My Desperado by Lois Greiman

Patterson," he said, shaking her slightly. "Admit it! It wasn't you. You're not that kind of woman."
    All her life she'd been told what kind of person she was. What she should be. What she should do, and suddenly she ached to shock them all.
    "I am." She stared at him, her body stiff, wanting for once to be accepted, shortcomings and all. "And yes, I was."
    "No one would believe that," he gritted. "No one. Not with the way you speak. Like a polished lady. And the way you dress." He scowled down at her gown, and she returned his expression.
    "What's wrong with the way I dress?" she questioned evenly.
    He shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to find his discipline. "It's hardly the kind of thing a woman wears to seduce—"
    "So you think I can't be seductive? Is that it?" She drew away stiffly, burning with an emotion she failed to identify.
    He stared at her, thinking her the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. But her wrath offered some safety—from himself, from his need. "Yeah." He nodded bluntly. "That's what I think."
    "Well, you're wrong." She said the words evenly, her back straight as a board, her face hot. "Others do find me attractive. You think I'm not that kind, but you're wrong." She shook her head, her mouth pursed. "You don't know how wrong you are."
    "Katherine." He'd pushed her too far and reached for her now. "I didn't mean—"
    She slapped at his hand. "Oh, yes, you did. You think I'm an old dried-up prune. But not everyone shares your esteemed opinion." She lifted her nose, and turned, heading for the door. "Don't expect me here tonight."
    His hand caught hers in a hard grip, turning her quickly toward him. "Don't say that. Do you hear me? Don't say it."
    She gasped, staring in shock, then laughed, perversely pleased that she had upset him. "Why? Because you don't want to be proven wrong?" She leaned nearer, eyes narrowed as she tugged her arm from his grasp. "Well you are wrong. How do you think I pay for this food? This bed?"
    She paused, breathing hard. "Sleep well," she said, and twisted toward the door. "I'll be busy tonight."
    "Over my dead body," he growled, grabbing her arm. "Goddamn it! We're leaving. And we're leaving now!"
    "No!" she yelled and struggled against him.
    Travis would never quite figure how it happened. But suddenly there were women everywhere, half-clad women draped by pairs on his arms, legs, and back. And not gentle, refined women, but strong, uninhibited women who yanked him away from Katherine.
    "Get him down."
    "Over there."
    "On the bed."
    He tried to get free. But every time he got a grip on something, there was an outraged shriek and numerous fists beating on his person. Confusion smothered him. Fleshy bodies buried him.
    The long strips of bandages appeared seemingly from nowhere and suddenly he found himself tied, bound to the bed's headboard like a rabid beast.
    "What's all this?"
    Noise subsided. Half-naked bodies moved aside as Lacy MacTaggart stepped through the mayhem, her brows lifting as her gaze fell on Travis's strapped body.
    "Having a wee bit of fun, are we, lasses?"
    Daisy stepped from the bevy, her wild hair scattered like a disrupted bee's hive. "'E was botherin' Miss Katherine."
    Lacy's gaze skimmed silently over Travis, starting at his eyes and floating down over his short cropped and painfully revealing britches. "What kind of bothering?" Her voice was flat and threatening.
    Travis pulled his bonds taut and snarled.
    "'E's a dangerous one," Daisy whispered shakily.
    "He pulled my hair," complained Garnet.
    "I broke a nail," whimpered Julia.
    "Quiet!" Lacy warned. A hush fell. She turned slowly, her gaze falling on Katherine's pale face near the door. "Speak, Katy, love or I'll give him to the girls for amusement."
    Katherine wrung her hands. Travis Ryland lay stretched and tied on the bed, his eyes burning her face. "He tried to leave," she explained weakly.
    Lacy's brows lifted dubiously. "And?"
    Katherine wasn't sure how all this had come about.