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I’m in my own bed, snuggled up. I might not remember what happened last night at the party, but it must have been more fun than I thought if I’m already back in bed.

It’s only a second before I realize that I’m wrong, though.

I’m not in my own bed, snuggled beneath my brand-new blanket. I’m not even in a bed. I can’t move my arms or my legs or...

“You’re awake.”

That voice.

Deep silk words wash over me.

It’s him.

It’s the man from the party.

Ian Salucci is here for some reason, and he’s talking to me. I know even without turning in the direction of his that he’s the one speaking.

Why is Ian here?

Did I even make it home last night?

The last thing I remember is talking to Ian. I had another drink after that, but then everything gets really, really hazy. I close my eyes, trying to remember everything that happened. I was dizzy. I sat down. Someone guided me away from the chaos. Was that him? Had he drugged me? Had he taken me away?

“Ian,” I whisper. I’m still lying down. I don’t see him, but I know he’s here.

“That’s Mr. Salucci to you, Rose. Try again.” I cry out as pain shoots through my body. He’s flicked my toes with something. Not his fingers. Did he slap them with something?

My toes curl up and I try to make my body as small as possible, but I can’t because I can barely move. I’m bound at the ankles, the knees, and the wrists. My arms are twisted behind me, so I can’t move at all. Now that I’m a little more awake, I realize that I’m lying on a carpet of some kind.

“Try again,” he says. His voice is firm. Patient.

“Mr. Salucci,” I whisper. I don’t want him to hurt me again. Shit. What the hell have I gotten myself into? Why am I here? And where ishere?

“Better,” he says. I open my eyes once more, and now I see him standing over me. He’s holding something. It’s some sort of implement or device. It’s the kind of thing people use for things like spanking or teasing. I know about these things. I read BDSM novels late at night. I always make sure to delete them off my Kindle in case anyone accidentally sees, but I still read them.

I know what he is, and I know that he’s in charge of me right now. He’s kidnapped me, hasn’t he? He’s abducted me and he’s going to make sure that I do whatever he wants. I get no say in this. I have no voice. The only way I’m going to get out of here in one piece is by listening very, very carefully.

“Did you kidnap me?” I whisper.

“You’re not a child.” His voice is firm. Decisive. “So, no, I did not kidnap you.”

Abducted. Abducted is the word I’m looking for.

“You abducted me,” I try again. I do my best to keep my voice quiet. I don’t want it to be too loud or explosive. If Ian is the kind of person who feels threatened, he’s going to hurt me even more, and I really, really don’t want him to hurt me.

“Now you’re catching on,” he agrees. I’m staring up at him, and he looks no less beautiful than he did last night. He’s still wearing his tuxedo, and as far as I can tell, I’m still wearing the dress from hell. It’s one my dad picked out. It’s too low cut and too high slit for my tastes. I don’t mind looking slutty, but at an event like the one last night, I always want to blend in.

Blending in, I’ve learned, is the key to survival. If you can blend, you can pretty much do anything.

Nobody’s going to bat an eye at you when you look like one of the other girls.

It’s when they start to think you stand out that you’re in trouble.

“Mr. Salucci,” I try again. I remember to be polite. Proper. “May I...may I ask why you have...um...brought me here?”

Whereverhereis.

It’s hard to speak, but not just because of the awkwardness and fear surrounding this situation.