After eight hours of serving drinks, Carrie was exhausted. All she could think about was taking off her high-heeled shoes and getting into a hot bath. She knew, after the success of her first assignment, as a Galaxy Liaison spy, she was no longer required to work at the Space Bar. That job had been set up strictly as a way to meet her target, Alexander Petroff. Now she was waiting to hear from headquarters about her next mission. She didn’t want to sit around doing nothing, and working at the bar seemed as good as any other way to kill time.

Carrie let herself into her living quarters. She tossed her keys and purse onto the side table and went to her sleeping area. She turned on the lamp near the bed, and with a deep sigh, she kicked off her shoes.

She started toward the bathroom when she heard a voice say, “Don’t stop with just your shoes.”

She froze. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. Her gaze darted across the room. There in the corner chair, clouded in darkness, she could just make out a pair of legs.

“Ah, you found me,” the voice said. “Turn and face me. Don’t try anything stupid.”

It was a man, she assumed, by the sound of his voice and the size of his feet. His upper body was completely covered in darkness. Carrie couldn’t see a thing. She had no idea if he had a weapon pointed at her. She would have to do what he said…for now.

“Good girl. Now why don’t you take off your clothes?”

Carrie didn’t move. She just stood there, her mind racing, trying to think who he was. It didn’t sound like Petroff. Who else held a grudge against her? Maybe he had nothing to do with the Liaison; maybe he was just a random guy, someone from the bar? Lord knew she had her fair share of letches trying to grab her ass.

“Your clothes,” he reminded her. “All of them off…now.”

Seeing no other choice for the time being, Carrie lifted her T-shirt off and dropped it on the floor. She bent over, lowered her skirt over her hips and down her thighs. She stood up, hesitating.

“Don’t stop. I said everything.”

Carrie kicked the skirt aside. She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. She crossed her hands over her chest, hesitating.

“I’ve got all night,” said the voice.

She let her bra fall to the ground. Naked but for her lace panties, she looked to the dark corner, to what she hoped was in direct eye contact with the man, and jutted her chin out stubbornly.

The man laughed. “Feisty.”

Carrie slid her fingers into the waistband of her panties and lowered them to the ground. She stood up again.

“Drop your hands to your side. Ahh, nice,” he said. “Very nice. Now turn around…slowly.”

Carrie looked around the room to see if there was anything she could reach for and use as a weapon. She realized, as she turned, that she was more angry than scared. As a spy, trained to use sex as a weapon, being naked wasn’t awkward for her. She was angry at herself for not wearing her watch that also served as a radio and emergency alarm.

When she had turned completely around, he said, “Now, I want you to move to the foot of your bed and sit down.”

She did as she was told. A small bubble of panic rose in her belly. Lying on the bed next to her was a blindfold and straps secured to corners of the footboard. She jerked her head around and looked at the headboard. Straps were tied there as well.

The man let out another small laugh. “I see you discovered what comes next. Put the blindfold on.”