Maybe it's luck. Maybe God owed him one. The only thing Clint Adams knows is that suddenly he's the bodyguard-in-residence for six women purdy enough to stop a bar fight. All he did was rescue them from a bunch of bottom-feeding morons with guns. Nothing to it. Or is there? These young women are like a half-dozen Little Bo Peeps—wherever they go, trouble sure does follow. Seems they all shared the same profession once upon a time. The oldest profession. And their former "manager" will do anything to get them back. But the Gunsmith has a bigger problem. How does he resist the charms of six professional seductresses when all he wants to do is stay alive?