I lie on the bed of soft flower petals, staring up at Wiley’s earnest but playfully wicked face.

“This part of the garden has rare plants I imported that don’t like a lot of direct sunlight,” he says, light-hearted. “I’ll show them all to you, but first, we’ll eat.”

Did he create this beautiful little sanctuary? How could someone so thoughtful ever be cruel?

“Are you going to feed me?”

He grins. “Why, milady, I thought you’d never ...