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Page 201

| Before Sasha could even think to raise the rifle to defend herself, Stanford had grabbed it from her hand and had tossed it aside. She was too suddenly in his tight armstoo suddenly assaulted by his wet, cold lipsto even get a grip on her senses! |

| When he began shoving her to the ground, a fierce panic seized her, and all that she could think of was Ashton! |

| Where was Ashton? |

| Or would Ashton even care that she was being attacked by this vile man? |

| Would he laugh at her and tell her that she had asked for itthat she deserved whatever happened to her? |

| A clicking noise from somewhere close by made the hair at Stanford's neck rise and his gropings stop. He knew the sound well. Someone had just cocked a gun. He stiffened when he saw a tall shadow suddenly fall over him and Sasha. He flinched when the hard steel of a shotgun's barrel was thrust between his shoulder blades. |

| "I think that's enough, unless you want a hole blasted into your back large enough for me to run my fist through," Ashton warned, his voice filled with a cold threat. "Get up, Sidwell. Get away from Sasha. And if you value your life at all, you'll start running until you're off my land." |

| Sasha's breathing was shallow. She peered up at Ashton, weak with relief. Then she looked up into the leering face of Stanford and screamed when he suddenly flipped over and grabbed the shotgun from Ashton, causing Ashton to fall awkwardly to the ground. |

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