***
 
 “You misbehaved exceptionally today.”
 
 York’s voice startles me awake.
 
 “The knickers display, letting Will bait you, drinking enough to be compromised . . .”
 
 I blink up at the shadow of him in the dark as he looms over me. “Misbehaved?” I croak.
 
 “And now I find you naked in my bed,” he continues, ignoring me like he so often does. “What if it wasn’t me who woke you up?”
 
 “I’d kill them.”
 
 “How?”
 
 I reach under the pillow but don’t find my gun, and he pulls it out from behind his back, the telltale silhouette unmistakable even in the darkness. Pushing my hair back from my face, I sit up and pull my knees to my chest, adjusting the blanket over me.
 
 “Little dove.” He tsks as he moves away from me.
 
 The gun gets set down, and he lifts what looks like a case from the pile of gear in the corner and wedges it under the door handle.
 
 What is he doing?
 
 Turning toward the gear, he moves slowly, deliberately, as he picks through the shadowy mound in the corner until he pulls out a coiled rope, and my heart skips a beat.
 
 “How are your wrists?” He throws the rope on the foot of the bed and pulls his shirt off.
 
 “Fine,” I barely get out as my voice cracks.
 
 The way he unties the coil and then pulls out several lengths in total silence is unnerving. “Give me your hands.”
 
 They shake slightly as I hold them out, and he takes one, pausing and then kissing my knuckles as he puts the rope around one wrist and then the other. My heartrate kicks up a notch.
 
 “I’ve been waiting hours to come back up here.” Another loop of rope goes around each wrist. “Hours pretending to listen because I was distracted by the thought of you in here, alone.”
 
 He makes a knot between my wrists and reaches over my head. The smell of his skin as his chest brushes against my cheek and the slight musk from his underarms triggers a feeling of euphoria, and my eyes close.
 
 Securing my wrists to the headboard, he leaves a few inches of play in the rope so my arms can move slightly to the sides. The blanket slips off, exposing me to the darkness as he peers down at my body like he can see it perfectly despite the shadows.
 
 “They’re drunk enough that they won’t hear what you sound like when you come for me tonight.” He moves back to the pile, finding a knife that he flicks open. “No one gets the pleasure of that but me.”
 
 He cuts the excess rope away from the headboard and slides the knife into his pocket. A warm, rough hand grazes my breastand runs down my stomach to my leg, gently pulling it away from the other. He’s laying it on too thick, and I squirm beneath his touch as he pulls my legs apart.
 
 “York,” I say breathlessly, pulling on my bonds.
 
 “Shh.”
 
 The nylon rope slips over my foot and tightens on my ankle as he ties a knot and then ties the rope down around the leg of the bed. Using the same meandering pace, he crosses the foot of the bed and takes my other ankle.
 
 When the last knot is tied, he unbuttons his pants and pushes them down over his hips. The silhouette of his hardened cock bobbing as he straightens out draws my eyes, and my mouth goes dry.
 
 “No more than one drink in the presence of anyone that is a stranger to you.” He strokes himself slowly and tilts his head. “Never accept a drink you didn’t make yourself unless it’s from me.”
 
 I nod absently as he climbs onto the bed and kneels between my legs.
 
 “Never remove your clothing in a room of men, no matter how many bullets you have.” A sharp sting flares through my breast when he flicks my nipple, and I hiss. “Do you understand?”
 
 “Yes,” I pant out.