Romantic Fiction for the Holidays

The Devil Who Tamed Her by Johanna Lindsey is the story of a man who wagers that he can tame a very badly-behaved young lady after she breaks off her engagement to his friend.

The title sounded promising, rather Taming of the Shrew-ish, so I quickly flipped through in search of threats of spanking and perhaps a little OTK action. There were the usual eye-catchers -- strapping young men, whipping hair, striking beauty -- but then I came across this little passage:

He tsked at her. "Your temper is showing, Phelia. This would be an excellent time to work on controlling it, don't you think?"

...She shot off the couch and began pacing, which completely distracted him from their conversation. Watching the swish of her skirt and how it moved on her backside...

"Who was that?" she asked, stopping to stare at the portrait above the mantel..

He reluctantly drew his eyes off her derrière to follow her gaze. "My grandmother Agatha."

At least we know he's a man who likes bottoms. Moving along to the next chapter, I found a bit of physical contact. I've omitted a good deal of non-essential description and kept the parts suggestive of spanking.

"She gasped and glared at him. "You really are two-faced, aren't you? You deceive and lull with your amusing jocularity only so you can sneak up from behind and go straight for the jugular. I can't believe I was lulled into forgetting that about you."

"No longer quite so tranquil?"

"No, damn you!"

"Good," he said, and dragged her across his lap...

Her anger reappeared with shocking speed. It was as if she'd been shielded by a curtain made thick by her own delusions that was abruptly opened, and there in the audience were all her bitter emotions applauding that she could no longer hide from them...

He leaned back on the sofa and without much ado positioned her so she was lying on top of him... The position gave him full access to her body...his hands were free to wander over her back and lower... He'd slowly been raising her skirt. When he suddenly changed their position, there was no cloth to hold him back... He fumbled with the clothes still between them. She heard a tear--her drawers... No sooner did it feel wonderfully pleasant than it started to hurt. She pressed back away from the pain, but it followed her, increased to where she started to cry out.

Almost like a spanking if you squint your eyes and use your imagination, right? I'm afraid there's not much else, besides some derrière clasping here and there in subsequent chapters.

Wait. There's more. This conversation between the two men who made the bet seems to clarify his non-spanking stance.

"Once you take the time to get to know her, she's quite wonderful."

Duncan started to laugh. "Now I know you're pulling my leg. What did you do, abduct her and beat her to meekness?"

"Something like that," Raphael said cryptically with an abashed grin. "But you'll be able to see for yourself that I'm not joking about this. Talk with her tonight, you'll be amazed. She might even apologize to you..."

"Very well, this I have to see. And I'd like to know how you managed this miracle without beating the shrewishness out of her."

"Well, there's beating, and there's browbeating, and there's simply opening her eyes for her to see how others perceive her actions."

So the man is no Petruccio. Perhaps I'll have better luck next time.