“Anyhow, since Wentworth was actually known to have a history with prostitutes that had been getting swept under the carpet for a while, he looked into it. After doing a little digging, it came to light that the whole kidnap and torture victim fetish was his particular kink. So, things added up in that respect, but there was still something weird going on.”

“How so?”

“Felicity,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone. “She started acting strange. It began with her acting…well…kind of…I guess the only delicate way to put it is sex starved. She was just plain insatiable. And, if that weren’t enough, she turned into a complete bitch.”

“Bitch?” Helen echoed. “That is certainly not a word I would have ever expected you to use in conjunction with your wife, Rowan.”

“Tell me about it, but that’s what happened. She would actually get herself aroused by berating me, or in some instances, by actually physically abusing me.”

“I believe I see a rather obvious connection with your nightmare now.”

“Yeah,” I grunted. “Kind of brings it all into focus, doesn’t it? Anyway, it was at about this time that I found out my dear, sweet wife actually has a history with the BDSM community.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?” I repeated, slightly puzzled. “You don’t seem particularly surprised by that.”

“Actually, I was already aware of it.”

Slight puzzlement became brow-furrowing confusion. “I’m sorry? I’m not sure I heard you correctly.”

“Remember, Rowan. Felicity has sought my counsel as well. She shared her proclivities with me quite some time ago.”

“Well, that’s interesting,” I said in a mild huff. “Because she never bothered to tell me.”

“Until now, obviously.”

“Well, yeah.”