And yes, there can be no question, now, but that he wants her.

Her, her, her!

He is losing himself in her, drowning himself in her, giving himself to her completely.

He is, in a very physical, quite literal sense, hers.

She is the captor of his body and the queen of his soul, the object of his heart's desiring.

No question in her mind about this.

But she does not see inside his mind.

She does not see herself in black mesh stockings and high heels, hooded and corseted in black leather, bound hand and foot, helplessly spreadeagled in elaborate bindings of ropes and chains.

She does not see herself in mortal peril. She does not see in his (ticking of her the act of a powerful and fiendish villain, merely part of his extensive program of exquisite torture.

No, in her mind, she is free, free, free, more free than she has ever been.

Free of grinding poverty, of fruitless, unrewarding toil in the soil, of endless, hopeless, futile chores.

And she has won this freedom with her young, voluptuous body.

She has won it by capturing the heart of this tycoon.

And does not know, does not have a shadow of a suspicion that it is she who is the captive here, and not as one captivates a loved one, but as one corners, entraps a victim, with the attitude of a hunter toward game, of the carnivore toward its prey..

Yes, he has her, his powerful body ruling her, controlling her as she, terrified and helpless in his implacable clutches, screams in heart-stopping fright and begs hysterically for mercy.

And this, this open air and sunshine bout of lovemaking, this also is part of it, part of the plan.

Because he can be clever, subtle, deceptive, when he must, when it suits him.

And this girl?