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but Damon moved quickly. He spun Shara and tripped her so that she fell to the soft sand, with the dress knotted around her legs. She struggled to get up, but all that silky black fabric conspired against her. Meanwhile Damon decked Jared, who fell backward. Jared raised one hand to his bleeding nose, obviously incredulous.
    “Mine,” Damon said with thrilling finality even as she struggled. “You can’t escape me now,” he murmured, then a soft cloth was pressed to her face.
    It smelled sweet and she took a breath, realizing immediately it was making her dizzy.
    “Just one breath,” he said and removed the cloth. Shara was woozy and unable to fight him anymore. Her eyes drifted closed, even as she struggled to keep them open.
    “That’s not fair!” Jared protested.
    “Funny. I didn’t get a copy of any rules. Don’t blame me for your own failure to plan.” There was a pause, as if the men were staring each other down, then Damon swung Shara into his arms. It felt good to be in his embrace, safe and stable when everything was swimming around her. He strode down the beach, probably heading back to the resort.
    “Hey!” Jared shouted behind them, but Damon didn’t even acknowledge his cry. “Hey!” he called again, but his voice had already faded.
    “What are you going to do to me?” Shara had to ask, though she hated how slurred her words sounded. He’d done a perfect job of ensuring she had enough of the drug to be unable to fight him, but not enough that she was unconscious. She was pliant and just as helpless as if she’d been trussed from head to toe.
    He’d done this before.
    His voice was low and dark, his words enough to fill her with both anticipation and dread. “Anything I want.” She heard his tone change to amusement. “Isn’t that the point of capturing the prize?” She felt his mouth graze hers, a kiss that managed to make her blood simmer in her current state. “Don’t worry, Shara. It’ll wear off within moments. I want you to enjoy this night as much as I will.”
    Her heart stopped, then raced again.
    He was going to ensure she didn’t sleep.
    And she had a feeling she wasn’t going to regret that one bit.
    * * *
    It was going to kill Damon to keep from taking Shara.
    But satisfaction wasn’t the point of the exercise.
    The tease was. And it was a double-edged sword, because the tease would torment him every bit as much as it did Shara.
    Maybe more.
    He had her stripped and bound to the leather massage table in his suite before she shook off the sedative. She fought it hard, and struggled to come out of it, which he admired, but he’d planned the dose perfectly. In fact, it was exciting that she’d had exactly the right amount to be aware of her situation, and she fought him as well as she could.
    When he was done, Shara was naked on her stomach, her wrists stretched above her head and bound with black shackles secured to the table. Her ankles were similarly shackled, her legs spread and bound. The dress and mask were on a chair in the corner, along with her shoes. Damon was securing her waist to the table with a wide leather belt when she finally was able to struggle with vigor.
    “Too late,” he whispered, running a fingertip down her spine. Her skin looked as pale as moonlight against the black leather, softer than down.
    “You planned it that way,” she accused, her eyes flashing.
    “Of course. I plan everything.”
    “I knew it. I knew it as soon as I saw your picture.” She struggled against her bonds, but he knew she had to verify that she was helpless.
    “So, why did you choose me?” He asked because he was curious how he ended up participating in the fantasy of the woman who was his fantasy. It still seemed too good to be true—even if it had been his hope. He’d seen Shara with an envelope from The Phoenix back in California, checked it out and applied himself. When he’d realized how big the club was, he’d assumed they’d never be connected.
    Then