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His head came up. She had never seen eyes as empty as his.

“Yeah,” he said softly, “that’s the problem, isn’t it? I forgot what old Dougie told me about you and your little games.”

“It isn’t true. I never—”

“Never played all your bedroom tricks on him? Do us both a favor, baby. Don’t bother lying. I know all about it.” His jaw tightened. “It’s too bad I didn’t remember sooner, but you’re good, I have to give you that.” He picked up the cuffs. The harsh light glinted off their bright silver surface. “Hands,” he barked.

She didn’t move. Matthew cursed, grabbed her left wrist, braceleted it with steel, brought it behind the bedpost and did the same to her right. The ratcheting sound of the cuffs closing was like a prison door slamming shut.

“Matthew.” Tears were streaming down Mia’s face. “Matthew, I swear—”

Grimly he pulled her hands over her head, looped the rope through the cuffs and secured it to the bedpost. He gave the rope a tug and nodded his approval.

“That’ll do it.”

The sensation of being tied, of having her arms fixed above her head, was terrifying. Mia began to weep as he went to the bedroom door and shut it.

“Matthew,” she sobbed as he strode toward her, “please, please, please!”

He stripped off his jeans. He was aroused and erect, and he didn’t give a damn if she saw it.

Hell, he wanted her to see it.

Let her fear him. Let her.

She shrank away as he climbed onto the bed beside her.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

“Don’t what?” he said coldly. “Don’t do this?”

Eyes locked to hers, he reached out, cupped her breast, let his hand drift down her torso, then slipped it between her thighs.

She moaned. Not as she’d moaned for him earlier. Not with desire. She moaned with fear.

That was fine with him.

“Keep quiet,” he said, hitting the light switch near the bed and plunging the room into darkness. “Or I’ll tape your mouth shut.”

Mia stared into the blackness. She could just make out his hulking shape. He would tape her mouth shut. He would.

She rolled her lips together. Pressed down hard on them to stifle the sobs mounting in her throat.

His shadowed shape moved. Flattened, and the mattress shifted.

He was lying down next to her.

A heartbeat later, she heard the soft chuff of his breath.

Her jailer was asleep.

Matthew slept exactly as he’d intended. Twenty minutes. Not a second more, not a second less. He woke as refreshed as if he’d slept the entire night.

It was something he’d learned to do when he was in Special Forces. Cam had been the first one to go in for eastern stuff. Breathing exercises. Tai chi of the mind, he called it, and Matthew and Alex had both laughed…

Until they saw that it worked.

Matthew had explored further and discovered a handful of ancient Zen techniques. One taught you to separate your mind from your body. It had helped him save his sanity in this very country when he and Alita had been tortured.