"Seraphina." His voice is hoarse, rough from the sedative. "What?—"
"What did I do?" I push off from where I'm leaning and move toward him slowly, letting my hips sway, letting the robe shift with each step. "I think you know what I did. The same thing you did to me."
I see him putting it together. The water bottle. The way I offered it back to him. The drug he was too thirsty to taste.
"How?" It's the same question he asked before he passed out, but now there's something else in his voice. Not just confusion.
Admiration.
I stop at the edge of the chaise, looking down at him. My husband. My predator. Myprey.
"You left your notebook out," I tell him. "I found your plans."
His eyes widen. "You've known this whole time?"
"I have." I trail one finger down his chest, feeling the muscles jump beneath my touch. "I knew about the vineyard. The chase. The cellar. All of it."
"The water bottles?—"
"I swapped them." I circle the chaise slowly, letting him track my movement.
He lets out a disbelieving laugh. "You planned a counter-ambush inside my ambush."
"I did." I stop at the foot of the chaise again, looking down at him with what I hope is the same predatory expression he's given me all night. "You hunted me. You caught me. You claimed me."
I lean down, bracing my hands on either side of his hips, bringing my masked face close to his.
"Now it's my turn."
CHAPTER 10
LUKE
"Now it's my turn."
The words hang in the air between us, and I can't do anything except stare at the woman standing over me. My wife. My sweet, submissive wife who has spent the last several hours trembling and moaning and begging me for more.
Except she wasn't submitting at all, was she? She was playing me.
The realization hits me like a bucket of cold water, cutting through the last of the sedative fog. Every moment of tonight replays in my head, reframed by this new information.
All of it was calculated. All of it was planned. She knew exactly what I was doing, and she played along anyway.
"You're insane," I say, and I'm not sure if it's an accusation or a compliment.
"Learned from the best." She straightens up, moving away from me, and I get my first real look at what she's done to herself.
The black silk robe skims her body like water, tied loosely at the waist so it gapes open with every movement. Beneath it, she's still naked—I can see glimpses of the skin I spenthours worshipping. The mask on her face is identical to mine, black and elegant, transforming her into someone I almost don't recognize.
Almost. But I'd know those lips anywhere. I'd know the curve of her jaw, the line of her throat, the way she holds herself when she's about to do something wicked.
My cock twitches against my thigh, roaring to life, and I curse my body for its predictable response. I'm tied up, drugged, and completely at her mercy—and I'm getting hard.
She notices. Of course she notices.
"Well." Her smile sharpens. "At least part of you is happy about this."
"Seraphina—"
