She got nowhere with the ropes, so she lifted her head and as best she could, looked around the room. It seemed unreal, like a stage set.

To the right side of the bed were two closed windows, hung with gauzy curtains. There was a table beneath the windows loaded with lit candles of all heights and colors, and there were tropical flowers.

Birds of paradise and ginger – very masculine to her eyes, sexual really – stood erect in a vase beside the bed.

Another look around, and she took in cameras, two of them. Professional grade, mounted on tripods on either side of her.

She saw lights on stands and a sound boom she hadn't noticed at first, positioned above her head.

She became aware of the roar of surf, loud, as if the waves were crashing against the walls. And there she was, pinned like a butterfly at the center of it all.

Kim took in a deep breath, and screamed, “HELP MEEEEEE.”

When her scream faded, a man's voice came from behind her head. “Hey, hey. Kim. No one can hear you.”

Kim turned her head harder to the left, stretched her neck with tremendous effort, and saw a man sitting in a chair. He was wearing earphones, and he pulled them down from his head so that they were resting on his collarbones.

Her first look at the man who'd taken her.

She didn't know him.

He had medium-length hair, was maybe in his late thirties. He had regular features that could almost be called handsome. He was muscular, wearing form-fitting, expensive-looking clothes, a gold watch she'd seen in Vanity Fair. Patek Philippe. The man in the chair looked to her like the actor who played the lead in the latest James Bond movie, Daniel Craig.

He put the earphones back on and closed his eyes as he listened. He was ignoring her.