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system. Same with his ankles. “Is this your idea of kinky or something? If it is, I’ve got to tell you, I usually prefer to be on the other side.”
    “Kinky?” Color rushed to her fair face. “No. I mean, I guess people do that, but I’ve never—” She shook her head, as if to clear it. “No, and I’m really, really sorry.”
    Okay, so this wasn’t this her idea of kinky, which was a good thing . . . except that her voice sounded weirdly familiar and something about her apology signaled that her agenda wasn’t sexual. Even her stolen glances seemed more curious than lusty. That sucked because having Kerry completely, watching her pale face flush to orgasm—once his colossal headache abated—sounded mighty fine. And this time, damn it, he’d remember.
    “Want to give me my clothes, untie me, and tell me why you’re sorry?”
    “I can’t do the first two.” She bit her lip, gaze brushing over his morning erection again before leaping back to his face, eyes wide.
    Rafe finally registered her very real skittishness and reached for the sheet to cover the essentials. He’d already guessed that Kerry wasn’t a wild, booty call kind of girl.Today, she seemed downright shy, despite the fact they weren’t sexual strangers. Kerry sure as hell never had spent any time as a “hostess.” So why the ruse?
    “Because . . . ?”
    “I abducted you,” she blurted.
    He couldn’t possibly have heard that right. “As in kidnapped ?” At her nod, incredulity jolted him. “You kidnapped me?”
    “Yes.”
    Had he landed in some alternate universe? Was he hallucinating? “Seriously?”
    Kerry winced. “I’m afraid so. I really tried to talk to you, make you understand, but you—”
    Her identity—the familiar voice—snapped into place. His jaw dropped. “You! The ditz on the phone!”
    “Ditz?” She anchored her hands on her luscious hips and glared at him. “Maybe I was a little emotional that day. And nervous. Okay, a lot emotional and a lot nervous. But you have a lousy phone demeanor. You don’t listen. At all. I realized that to get you to actually hear me, I had to kidnap you.”
    Kidnap. The word sank in, as did her attitude. She was serious. Why? Given her phone calls, he was sure he didn’t want to know. How long did she plan to keep him leashed like a yard dog? What did she want, a kidney to sell on the black market? No, that was an urban legend.
    “Damn you!” he lunged at her.
    She backed away, nearly out of the room, green eyes wide. Her pulse pounded at her throat. The little twit ought to be scared. When he got his hands on her . . .
    Rafe raked his hands through his hair, cursing at the retracting restraints around his wrists. He had a job on the table. If he didn’t show up soon, Standard National might withdraw their very lucrative offer and tell him to screw himself. If that happened, he would fail to make five million by age thirty, fail to trump his bastard of a father. His business could suffer. Reputation was everything, and the economy was still recovering. What if he lost all he’d worked for?
    He refused to be set back all those years. He refused to fail, since he knew too well where that path led. Failures crawled into a bottle of gin and pissed everything away.
    His anger spiked like Mount Saint Helens. Where the hell was he, anyway? And why? Suddenly, nausea annoyed him like a bad case of the flu, and his bladder kicked in again.
    This just got worse and worse.
    Rafe shifted his weight and stared at his captor. Captress? Was there such a word? Either way, he should have suspected something fishy from Kerry’s behavior last night. He’d known her voice wasn’t real, but he’d been too distracted to give her subterfuge much thought. A “hostess,” was she? First night on the job? Yeah, right. No wonder she had seemed nervous in the limo. She’d been breaking the law!
    Slowly, Kerry edged toward him again. “If you’ll just let me explain—”
    Snarling, he