The words burned against my brain, searing hot. Then another thought, more dangerous than the first. Tie her wrists, brand her, teach her. She was wearing a dress that was a size too small, and I knew immediately she didn’t have a boyfriend waiting for her at home, because no man would have let her out of the house in that. The dress was red. Short. A sweetheart neckline that was supposed to make her look innocent, but did nothing except push her full curves up and over the material. Her hair was dirty blond and long, tousled around her shoulders. She was sipping a glass of champagne and looking around nervously, her wide eyes flicking from person to person at the party, as if she were afraid she was going to get caught. What have you done, bad girl? Something you should be punished for? My palm burned as I imagined taking her over my knee, that short little dress pushed up, the place between her legs pulsing. The feeling of desire I had looking at her was like an electric shock to my soul. My instincts said to leave her alone, that this would end in nothing but tragedy. My instincts had always served me well in the past. But this time, I decided to ignore them. An innocent girl. A ruthless man. An inevitable, sordid devastation…