When Mick and Ralph said the passport would take a few days to make, Boone thought his head was going to explode. But there was no other alternative: the Strip was heavily guarded and there was no way Boone could come up with the entrance fee in time. So he would just have to hang around the workshop until the fake passport was finished. And hang around he would—watching over their shoulders with a rifle the entire time.

He had already lost one woman to slavers, and once he got Dahlia back, he swore he would never let her out of his sights again.

… … …

Dahlia had no idea how long she had been tied up in this room. Omerta's men kept the fire going, and there were no windows. They were getting bolder in their harassment too. She had been called innumerable names, kicked a few times and spit on. She couldn't wait to stab them in the back with a letter opener (if she ever got her hands on one, that is.) But there was one who was different. He was well-shaved and dressed better than the rest in a sweater vest, and never seemed to have a reason to be there like the others. When he came in, he would just sit in a chair nearby and stare at her, looking like he wanted to say something but couldn't.

The first few times, Dahlia ignored him. But after what seemed like forever without any real human contact, she decided to speak to him. When she asked his name, he bolted out of the chair and left the room. She wanted to ask someone to bring her food and water, but she couldn't bring herself to ask the ones who would kick her around and call her a dirty little whore. Nero would come back sooner or later, and if he didn't want his new pet to die, surely he would bring her some food.

But he didn't come and he didn't come, and the courier felt as though her stomach was turning inside out. Her lips were parched and dry as she struggled to form the words, "Nero, get me Nero…"

… … …

"She's askin' for you, boss."

Finally. Much longer and Nero would have had to force feed the courier to keep her from suffering any real damage. He put away his paper work and told his secretary to finish the stack. How much he would relish having her eat out of the palm of his hand like a sick child. Everyone has a breaking point, and he couldn't wait to witness the courier at hers. It would be beautiful.

… … …

It made her sick to say his name like that, pleading for her life. It hadn't taken long for the hunger and thirst and boredom to get to her—but she hadn't given up hope just yet. She just needed to keep her energy up, and voluntarily starving herself because of her pride was just stupid. If rescue ever came, she wanted to be ready to fight her way out of this place.

She almost changed her mind when she saw Nero's smug face come through the door. He was holding a glass of ice water and a small loaf of bread. "Well, well. Has the poor little pup had enough?"

It took everything Dahlia had not to spit on his shoes again. Shaking with an anger she hoped he mistook for weakness, she whispered, "Please, I'm so thirsty…"

"Come now, let's get you comfortable." Nero sat down the glass and bread and gingerly picked her up and placed her on the bed. She hated to admit it, but after what seemed like days of lying on a wooden floor, the pillows and blankets of the bed felt incredible. She let out an accidental coo of approval.

"I had no idea you were so eager to go to bed with me. However, you must eat and get your strength back first," he chuckled, holding the glass up to her lips. Thirst overtook her—she drank down the glass in a matter of seconds and asked for more.

"Ah-ah. Too much too soon will make you sick. Now here, try to eat a little bread." Nero tore off a small piece of the loaf and fed it to her, enjoying the power he held over her. She ate eagerly from his hands, and when the food was gone and she'd had another glass of water, the look of compliance in her eyes was unmistakable.

"You've done well, my pet. But you still must earn my trust. If I remove these restraints, do you promise to behave yourself? Keeping in mind that any disobedience will be severely punished." It was obvious to Dahlia that he completely believed her good dog act. If she could just keep it up long enough to gain a chance at freedom…

"It hurts, Nero…please, take them off. I will be good, I promise." She put on her best puppy dog eyes and managed a whimper. Damn, this guy was gullible.

Nero moved from the bed and opened a door that led to a large bathroom. She heard faucets turn and running water. He returned carrying a washcloth and a small water basin. "These wounds need to be washed properly or the blisters may cause an infection. I'm going to remove your restraints, but one wrong move and my men will be here within seconds. And my trust is harder to earn the second time around, Ms. Reed."

Slowly, Nero undid all of her restraints and re-arranged her body on the bed. "Stay still."

Every muscle in her body screamed to move, to fight, to free herself…but she held her breath and bit her lip, knowing that now was not the time. Stay still, stay quiet. Stay still, stay quiet.

First, he lifted each arm and gently washed from shoulder to fingertips, the cold but soft washrag making slow circles across her dirty skin. The amount of dirt on the rag embarrassed her a little when he had to switch to a new one every few minutes. Then, he worked his way from her toes to just above her knees where the dress fell. She would never admit it, but all this attention was beginning to turn her on, even if it was from her heartless captor.

With extreme gentleness, he washed her face, neck and leaned her against his arm to wash her back. But her self-control was really tested as he slipped the straps of her dress from her shoulder and began sliding the material down her body, revealing her skin inch by inch. When she felt the material snag on her now hard nipples, she was unable to control the knee jerk reaction of putting her hands up to cover herself.

Nero just laughed and firmly moved her hands to her side. Dahlia had to turn her head away as he ran the cold cloth over each breast, taking care to lightly pinch and pull at her dark nipples. Stay still, stay quiet…the words rolled about in her head like a mantra, barely keeping her hand from reaching up to strangle him as the dress was pulled all the way off. He washed her stomach and thighs before his fingertips came to rest just above her panty line.

"That's a good girl," he whispered as he hooked his talons into the sides of her panties and leaned over to take a nipple in his mouth. That was all Dahlia could take. Next thing he knew, there was a knee to his groin and he was sprawled across the floor, unable to see out of his right eye. Dahlia raced for the door, but as her hand reached for the knob, the door swung open and a flood of men knocked her to the ground.

A few men helped Nero to his feet. He held one bleeding eye in his hand and glared death at her with the other. "You'll regret that, bitch!" Then, to the other men surrounding her, "Bind and gag her. I will deal with her later." With that, a couple of his men helped him from the room and the others set on her with a vengeance.

Holy shit, why couldn't I just grin and bear it? Now I'll never get out of this goddamned place…