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spanking. There was something about signing a contract stating she couldn't refuse his touch that made the contact all the more exciting. Even if her butt did still hurt, her pussy hadn't forgotten the waves of pleasure he'd invoked. She laid the pen carefully on his desk, sure he'd order her to take off the dress. He hadn't gotten off, after all.
    "It hailed the other day, so I have some chores to do around the place. I'll take you on a tour of the land you think I need to get rid of. After we rustle up some breakfast." He grinned at her. "And by 'we', I mean you."
    His unexpected statement made her laugh. He confused her, but deep down Cynda was sure this man was no different than any other man she'd ever known, unless he was perhaps more honest.
    She was a bit startled when he used some clothespins to pin the back of her dress up so he could look at her ass. She made fried eggs and toast on his big stove while he sat at the table and drank coffee, but she was beginning to enjoy this game.

Chapter Five
     
    She started toward his truck. "Where are you going?" Dan asked, reaching out to grab her hand. He'd kept quiet during breakfast, studying her. To his relief, Cynda hadn't said a word. He still hadn't figured out why he was letting her stay, unless it was to prove why he deserved to be alone. She had to know he had no intention of selling Brian Case his land. It pissed him off to think the dodgy realtor might've told her otherwise. Either way, she'd signed her body over to him for two weeks for nothing. He was still sure she'd bolt before long, but at least he had proof she'd volunteered for what might happen between them.
    "You said you were going to show me your land, right?"
    "You'll see it better from the tractor. Besides, I have to do a couple of things up at the camp." He tugged at her hand, leading her toward the barn. She pulled up short and yelped.
    He saw right away what'd happened. Entranced by the way her dark skin showed through the thin cotton dress, he'd forgotten she was barefoot. She'd stepped on a rock. Now that he'd finally gotten his mind off his cock, he didn't want to take her back in the house to hunt a pair of shoes. He leaned down, dropping the bag he'd packed so he could slide his arm under her legs. Her arms went around his neck.
    Maybe getting shoes would've been a better idea. She smelled like sex and bacon. Under that, the natural scent of her body seemed musky and wild to him, unlike any other woman's. The enticing fragrance went straight to his cock.
    I should've jacked off upstairs when I went to the damn attic , he thought in frustration. He wasn't ready to fuck her. Sitting her on the big metal fender over the rear tractor wheel, Dan lifted her foot. The small rock still clung to the pink skin, embedded in her heel. "Little rocks are the worst," he stated with authority, having stepped on many. He brushed it off, massaging the spot while thinking how badly he hated the polish on her toes. She looked like an angel in that chemise or nightgown or whatever it was called, but the garish enamel spoiled the effect.
    "Be right back," he muttered.
    The barn held his workbench. Dan grabbed a rag and the can of acetone he used to clean paintbrushes. Back under the lean-to, he doused the rag with the chemical. "I'm taking this God-awful polish off your nails." He started with her toes, scrubbing energetically at the offensive paint.
    He thought she might have called him an opinionated motherfucker under her breath, but he didn't give a damn. When he poured more fluid on the rag, she snatched the skirt out of the way. "Careful, don't splash that stuff on it."
    Dan looked at her in surprise. "You like it?"
    She ran her hands over the bodice, looking at the fancy stitching rather than at him. "Yes, Daniel."
    Unsure why that pleased him so, he concentrated on scrubbing her toes. The acetone dissolved the polish rapidly, to his satisfaction.
    "What's that sound?" she asked.
    Dan raised his head, still