Stupid, stupid, stupid woman.

"Do you remember my name this time?" he whispered.

She threw a fuming stare at him. "Get off me," she ground out between gritted teeth.

He didn't move. Like she'd expected him to? Not.

"I am called Blackie. Do you remember?" His eyes narrowed with concern as he studied her.

"I remember you. I wish I didn't."

There. That remark wiped away his concern.

He glared at her. "I own you now. You belong to me. I will do whatever I wish to you and you will accept this. You will accept me."

Arrogant, wasn't he?

"You don't own me and I will never accept you! I will escape the first chance I get."

"I enjoy your fire," he taunted and her gaze flew to the pink tip of his tongue as it peeked out from between his lips. Suddenly, she longed for him to kiss her again.

She was a total dunce for thinking such a thing.

She'd killed his friend. He wanted revenge. He was probably going to kill her. Okay, she needed to keep calm. Too bad they weren't role-playing. It might have been fun. Yes, by the l.u.s.ty glaze in his eyes, he certainly did enjoy this situation.

"You will be good in bed." The confident way he spoke made her cheeks flame.

"Get off me or I swear I will kill you."

At her comment, his dark eyes darkened even more-if that were possible.

"I must get off you? Why? Because the law forbids my being on top, female? Because you wish to be on top?"

The s.e.xual insinuation merely threw more fire onto her anger. But she forced herself to tamp it down.

Save your strength, Kinley. You'll need it to escape. Or to meet his every thrust as he f.u.c.ks you.

She blew out a frustrated breath. s.h.i.t! She wanted to escape, yet at the same time she wanted his fingers thrusting into her p.u.s.s.y again. Wanted the s.e.x again, but it could never be because he wanted her dead!

"You do not need to fear me. I did not know you were being attacked. I was away from the camp when he came. I am sorry I did not react quicker. I was shocked."

Join the club, buddy.

Okay, so he said he wouldn't hurt her, but could she believe him?

Naive thinking, girl.

The man saw her murder his friend. The man experienced her violence when she stabbed him.

He will hurt you if you try to hurt him again. It's called self-defense.

"Kinley." Her name rolled off his tongue like magical music and she liked the way he p.r.o.nounced it. "A beautiful name for my warrior woman."

Warrior woman? Oh for Pete's sake!

"Okay, listen to me, Mr. Blackie. I need to tell you straight up what is going on. I need for you to get me out of these woods and back to civilization."

So I can figure out who the h.e.l.l I am. And get away from this s.e.xual haze that captures me every time I'm with you or even look at you...despite you probably wanting me dead.

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. Had she insulted him in some way?

"I do not follow females' instructions anymore. Not ever," he snapped. "I have told you I will not hurt you. That does not mean I must submit to any commands of a female. I am a male of my word. But you are still my captive." His face had grown red with anger and Kinley shivered at the pure l.u.s.t splashing into his eyes.

"The Boys will make you see who is in charge now, female."

The Boys? To her surprise he produced a collar from somewhere beside him. Something wild and warm slithered through her. Instead of panicking, she felt totally opposite. Serene.

Within the blink of an eye he'd climbed off her and pulled her to sitting.

Now! Run!

She would have done it too, but he clamped a soft, black leather material around her throat and snapped it shut. A tiny beep echoed through the air.

Somewhere deep inside her a zing of peacefulness, or maybe it was surrender, zipped through her. He had her now. There would be no escape. Besides, the leash appeared electronic. Where the h.e.l.l kind of place was she when guys ran around almost naked, living like savages off the land, yet had an electronic-controlled collar? She had to be on some rich guy's secret island or something. This must be some BDSM game and she was the bait for this guy.

He held tight to a black leather leash and twisted the other end of it around his wrist. If she made a dash for it, she'd be taking him along for the ride...or he'd break her neck if he yanked hard enough.

"That's right, my warrior woman. Stay still and surrender to it."

She bit back a sharp retort about him calling her a warrior and remained silent. No use arguing. He held the reins, so to speak. He looked down beside him and she followed his gaze. Her breath backed up in her lungs. Not because the collar around her neck was too tight. What surprised her was the arrangement of items he'd laid out at the foot of her fern bed while she'd slept.

Despite the arrow of panic searing into her, sensual shivers whipped through her at the sight of the chains and the clamps.

d.a.m.n her. Had she gone s.e.x-crazy? Some hot stranger-who until moments ago she thought meant to kill her-had her in a collar and leash and, from the gear he'd spread out, had every intention of making her his s.e.x slave.

And she was aroused?

Maybe her arousal had to do with something in the air she was breathing. This is not Earth. And how did she know this was not Earth?

Kinley shook those thoughts aside as a calming voice from somewhere at the back of her mind told her if he'd planned on killing her, he would have done it by now. Wouldn't he?

Yes, she had to keep that thought in her head. Based on what she had recently recalled, her memory was going to come back slowly. In the meantime, she needed to stay as calm as possible and escape the brute the minute she had the opportunity.

"I know being captive frightens you, but you will get used to it. I will enjoy pleasuring you and I will teach you how to pleasure me."

"Never," she replied coolly, avoiding his gaze and the slave gear on the ground. "Obviously this is what the creep meant when he said you were training me."

"He was correct. I will train you to crave s.e.x from whichever male demands it from you. Life is easier for females after the training."

Great. Just f.u.c.king great.

"I said never, buddy. And I mean N-E-V-E-R."

"I've heard many of the females say this word 'never' after they arrived in Death Valley. But the Boys have been trained all their lives to pleasure and please. They know the weaknesses of a female's body and now they use them quite expressively against their females. I will find your weaknesses."

Who the h.e.l.l were these Boys? d.a.m.n. The collar was her weakness. The surrender, the submissiveness sliding through her bloodstream the instant that collar had snapped around her neck attested to that fact.

He smiled at her silence.

"Good, you know when to hold your tongue. Now hold out your hands."

"No," she spat and hid her hands behind her back so he couldn't get them. She knew what he wanted to do. She'd seen the leather wrist cuffs and other things.

Her p.u.s.s.y creamed. Oh G.o.d, she was nuts!

"If you don't wish me to cuff your hands, then I a.s.sume you wish to do what needs to be done."

d.a.m.n him!

"I'll do it," she muttered. If she did what he wanted, she had at least some semblance of momentary control.

He swooped over to grab something from the ground and she couldn't help but notice the crisscrossed scars lacing his body. Thick slabs of marred flesh twisted across his tanned back and shoulders, dipping lower to disappear below the breechclout slung oh so low on his hips. No wonder he hadn't reacted to her punching his wounded arm. He'd experienced much more violence than what she'd dished out.

The thought of slamming her fists down on his neck in an effort to escape came too late. He straightened in record time and held up the items.

They were beautiful, she had to admit. Slave chains-delicate, silver chains that were interlaced with glittering, ruby-red gemstones. She tried hard not to look at the clamps and loops attached, but for some insane, inexplicable reason, her gaze latched on to the items and her p.u.s.s.y creamed some more.

Oh G.o.d! This couldn't be turning her on!

"By the way you watch the training gear, I see you are impressed. I made it myself. Made it with you in mind, days ago when I thought you were the woman in Death Valley with Jarod. But the lack of a scar on that woman's belly made me realize I had the wrong female. She was someone who looked exactly like you, but she was not you."

Someone who looked like her? Something fluttered in the blank depths of Kinley's brain. Something just out of reach. And then it was gone. Anger reared through her again, replacing the submissiveness. She needed to escape him and she needed to escape now!

He easily caught her wrists as she prepared to attack him.

"You b.a.s.t.a.r.d, let me go!" she screamed, wanting to gouge out his eyes.

He yanked her wrists around until he held her with one hand. He slapped on first one cuff and then the other. Each time the lock hit home it beeped, signaling it was secure. She was effectively cuffed and only a couple of inches of leather hung between her wrists.

He pulled her against him and his entire upper body pressed intimately to hers.

Heat. Masculine heat and hard flesh melted along her curves.

She swallowed as his strength dominated her.

"You belong to me, female," he breathed. "At least for now. By the time we reach the Boys I am to have you properly trained. They will know you killed the leader and they will be both angry at you for killing him and aroused at your bravery for doing so. They will want to mount you. You need to be craving the s.e.x, regardless if they are not tender."

The serious tone in his voice and the firm coolness blazing in his eyes reeled in her anger.

"Where is she?" Kinley asked through gritted teeth. "Where is this woman who looks like me? Where does she come from?" Maybe it was her he'd seen? Maybe she belonged with the guy named Jarod.

"Her name is Piper."

Kinley fought back the unexpected tears welling up in her eyes as the familiar name slammed into her. His face blurred. Piper was the name of that unconscious female, not a plane.

"After he took her, I helped them escape."

He took her? Who took Piper? Her tummy rolled with nausea. What did Blackie mean?

Her imagination suddenly ran wild. Visions of naked flesh. Grunts in the darkness. A heavy body lying on top of her. Her legs spread-eagle. She'd been unable to move. Unable to fight them off. Oh G.o.d. Panic. No, don't do this to me!

The tender pad of his thumbs wiping away her tears made Kinley return to the present. She blinked, her heart beating faster, unable to understand what that ugly memory meant. One thing she knew for certain, it didn't pertain to the event that had led her to kill a man. This was something altogether different.

She tried to quell her anguish from the flashback she'd just experienced.

"The one who looks like you will be kept safely by Jarod. He is big and strong as I am. He is also gentler. She appears to enjoy his lovemaking."

She? Piper? Okay, concentrate.

Piper was the unconscious woman in that swamp. Kinley remembered another woman. She'd told Kinley to stay with the unconscious one. And Kinley had...until she'd left to go find food and, when she had returned, Piper was gone. Yes, she remembered now.

That meant Piper was alive and this guy had helped her escape. He had empathy. He would help her too. Obviously he'd found her in the swamp and taken care of her. He couldn't be totally bad if he was so concerned about her memory either. Despite needing to remember more, she couldn't think of anything but having this guy's big body pressed against hers. Her earlier panic-then again in that flashback-was gone. Suddenly, with this guy, she felt...safe.

"Up, on your feet," he commanded. He didn't wait for her to react before he grabbed her wrists and easily pulled her to standing.

"Stand still. This will be over quickly," he whispered, almost tenderly.

With his free hand he lifted one part of the chain. It had a clip. "This will attach to the middle loop of your collar."

He brought her away from his body and she kept her stance defiant as he hooked the chain to the loop at her throat. The gentle brush of his knuckles against her chin made her inhale strongly at the electrical intensity of his touch. The tinkle of the chains was musical and soothed her rattled nerves.

"These," he held up a couple of smaller, more delicate chains, which were attached to another part of the main chain, "are clamps. They will go on your nipples."

Her p.u.s.s.y creamed at the thought of his hands on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Oh boy! Was she perhaps in another sleep fantasy?

"Put them on your own nipples," she muttered.

To her surprise, he laughed. "You learn fast. When I feel you are ready, I will let you put them on me. In the meantime, I will outfit you."

His free hand brushed against her clothed right breast. She stiffened at the touch. Not because she didn't like it, but because she did.

s.h.i.t, what was wrong with her? He could kill her if he chose, yet she wasn't afraid. He held her freedom in his hands. Was she in shock? Perhaps, but if she was in shock, would she be so alert to the next move of him clamping her nipples?

She had no other choice but to submit. To give up all her control...or at least make him think she was giving up all control. He would become complacent and then she would run.

"Turn around," he instructed.