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“Why is it good that I’m not doing your sister?”

Mallory coughed as the water went down the wrong way. “I don’t know,” she gasped. Clearing her throat, she gathered her thoughts. “I think it’s a relief, actually. She’s gorgeous and rich. Has her shit together, owns her own business. It just didn’t seem fair that she would have you too.”
Even though you’re a carb Nazi
. “As for me, I’m coming off a really bad breakup. I’m past the ‘all men suck’ phase, but I’m not out of rebound territory.”

“Colleen told me a bit. I’m sorry.”

Mallory shrugged. “Me too.”

“You should concentrate on relaxing and healing. Couture is going to be your haven. I know you’re not really a prospective member, but you should try and get the benefits out of it.”

“You mean sex?” she squawked.

“I wasn’t talking about sex, actually. Couture has massage therapy, a pool and sauna. Stuff like that. And if you’re into it, you can take some fashion courses. We’ve got everything from beginning sewing to 3D design programs.”

“Oh, I see.” Mortification flooded into her. It wasn’t his fault that he made her think of sex. Sex had been pretty much nonexistent for her lately. If she wasn’t working, David was too high to get it up. Whenever he was sober, she was too tired. No wonder they self-combusted. She should call him. Maybe if he got help … Mallory closed her eyes and shook her head. She knew better than to indulge in that fantasy. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“Absolutely.”

“Do you have a car?”

“Yes.” Max drew out the word and looked at her quizzically.

“I need to pick up stuff from my apartment. David is there. I’m going to call him and have him meet me at a restaurant somewhere far enough away that I can get in and out before he knows he’s been tricked.”

“Not a good idea,” Max said.

“I’m not actually going to meet him, but it will get him out of the apartment long enough so I can go in, grab my things, and get out.”

“How will you know he actually goes to the restaurant?”

“That’s where you come in.”

“I’m not tailing your ex.” Max folded his arms across his chest.

“No, we’ll drive to my apartment in your car and park a block or so away. I’ll call him, and when he leaves we can go in.”

“I’m going to have to clear it with Colleen.”

“Can we do it tonight?”

“Let me run it by her. Wait here.” He slid out of the booth.

Mallory flagged down the waiter to borrow a pen and started to make a list of the things she needed to pick up. With Max as a bodyguard, she wouldn’t feel uneasy about going back for the vintage Lancel purse that she had worked two jobs the summer of her sophomore year to afford. Plus it would make getting started up on her own that much easier if she had her own things. Mallory marveled at the changes inside her. It felt good to be heading back toward normal.

Max came back a few minutes later.

“That was quick.”

“She said no effing way.”

“But …” Mallory started to protest.

He held up his hand. “She said give her a list of the things you want and where they are and your house keys. She’ll send a security team in to get the items and deal with David if he’s there.”

Mallory blinked. That was a much better and safer idea. Leave it to her sister. Still, she felt a little deflated at having the situation so easily handled. “Colleen’s not going to the apartment herself, is she?”

“I got that impression.”

“David can’t stand her.”

“The feeling’s mutual from what I gathered. For what it’s worth, Istvahn is having her stay in the car if David is there.”

“Istvahn is the doorman?” Mallory asked.

“He’s the head of security.”

“What if David is there? I should call him and pretend I want to meet up with him.”

“I don’t think Colleen wants you to have any contact with him.”

Mallory chafed at Colleen telling her what to do. She wasn’t a kid. Besides, she felt safe to talk to David when she was in a gated community with a guardhouse. “What can he do to me over the phone? When are they leaving?”

“As soon as they get the list and your keys.”

“Let’s go, then. I’m sick of feeling like a victim. This might not solve my relationship problems, but I won’t feel like such a refugee.”

Max reached across the table and held her hand. “It can wait until after you’ve eaten.”

She blinked back tears. “I’m fine.” But she wasn’t really. She was shaking.

“You need to take time for yourself. I see a lot of doctors come through here that forget that they need to take care of themselves as well.”

He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles in what he probably thought was a soothing gesture. Little did he know that was the most erotic contact she’d had in months.

The waiter interrupted the conversation and Mallory looked at the menu without seeing it as she tried to get back some of her equilibrium. Talking with Max was nice. She had forgotten how it was to actually have a conversation instead of screaming at someone across the table. It was starting to get easier to believe she was in a hedonistic paradise instead of hiding out, afraid for her life. Maybe she could unclench for a bit, enjoy a no-strings sex session. Mallory looked at Max from under her eyelashes. Maybe he’d be interested. She wished he would go back to stroking her hand.

Because she wasn’t paying attention, she ordered the same thing he did, tilapia wrapped
in parchment and the mixed vegetables instead of the baked potato. His approving look was almost worth missing out on the sour cream.

“The food is fantastic, too. Your sister stole a few chefs from some pretty prestigious places.”

“She usually gets what she wants.”

“Not always,” Max said and looked her in the eyes. “She didn’t get me.”

She wanted to drop her gaze from the heat she saw in them, but she was riveted. This was going to get interesting. “Why the hell would you turn her down?”

“She terrifies me.”

That surprised a laugh out of Mallory and he grinned in response.

“It wasn’t a real offer. She’d had a few and I was the nearest thing.”

“I think you’re underestimating yourself.”

“Not really; she found someone else to amuse herself with.”

“That must have been awkward.” Mallory rubbed the rim of her wineglass. If he had turned
her
down, she would have been mortified.

“It was at a social event.” Max cleared his throat. “One of the staff team-building parties. Just being there meant you were looking to get laid.”

“So it was a real offer?”

Max shrugged. “Seriously, banging the boss is never good for business, even at a masquerade ball.”

“Colleen wouldn’t abuse her authority. She’s not like that.”

“It’s not her. The other staff members get jealous. They think you’re getting preferential treatment and the next thing you know, you’re working at a soap opera instead of a resort.”

“Yeah, we had an instructor who was having an affair with one of her students. Funny, the student got a plum internship. We’ll never know if he earned it in the sack or by being the best.”

“Exactly.”

Even his eyes smiled when he talked. She wished he would hold her hand again. The wine steward broke up their comfortable silence by coming over with a bottle of chardonnay.

“Ms. Bryant sends this with her regards.”

“That’s sweet of her,” Mallory said.

After letting Max taste it and nod his appreciation, the steward filled up their glasses and left the bottle. She was happy to note that Max’s regiment included wine with dinner, but if he planned on talking her out of the chocolate cake for dessert, she’d stab him with a fork.

“So who did she wind up with?”

“A vampire. He worked in Accounting.”

“That sounds like Colleen.” Mallory looked down at her plate before forcing herself to meet his eyes. “Who did
you
wind up with?”

Max tugged at his collar, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I stepped out of my comfort zone that night.”

“I’m riveted.” Mallory leaned forward.

“The instructors here come and go. Most are free spirits who see Couture as just one stop on the journey of life.”

“You’re stalling.”

“You’re tenacious.” He grinned at her.

“I’m waiting.” The smile stretching across her face felt odd, as if she hadn’t smiled in a while. Maybe she hadn’t.

“Her name was Shigeku. She was a Kinbaku expert.”

Mallory nodded, although she had no idea what that was.

“She was dressed in rope.” He shrugged. “I was a boy scout. The knots were too much to pass up.”

She laughed with him, because it felt good.

“What did you go as?” Mallory said, thinking she needed to discreetly look a few things up on the Internet.

“I went as Ryu from Street Fighter.”

Mallory smiled and nodded.
Still no clue
.

“I know. It’s not much of a stretch. But I got to wear my comfortable gi.”

“So what martial arts do you teach?”

“I have black belts in Shotokan and Tae Kwon Do.”

Well, so much for stabbing him with a fork if he took away her dessert. Maybe she could distract him with her witty conversation.

“I took belly dancing for a couple of years,” Mallory heard herself say, then inwardly groaned because that was totally not comparable to a black belt.

“That’s a hard workout,” he surprised her by saying. “You’ve got to be pretty flexible and coordinated to do some of the advanced dances. And it builds up stamina. Why did you stop?”

Mallory was still focused on his mouth. The way he said “flexible” and “stamina” dropped her into an erotic haze. The long, sexually charged pause had her clearing her throat. “My job can be all-consuming. I would get off shift and not want to do anything but face-plant into the couch. I think sometimes that’s how it started going wrong with my ex.”

“I hope you’re not blaming yourself for his drug abuse. Colleen filled me in so I could tailor your self-defense.”

“No, not really. I mean, I can’t help but play the ‘what if?’ game. What if I had been home most nights? What if I had a normal nine-to-five job in an office so when I did come home I wasn’t mentally and physically exhausted?”

“What if he got help for his addiction? What if he never took the drugs to begin with?”

“I know.” Mallory smiled. “It’s not me. It’s him. Still, I loved him once.”

“Do you still love him?”

Mallory leaned back in the booth with her glass of wine. “I still loved him the first time he punched me in the face.” She watched shadows darken Max’s face. “I still loved him when I realized he wasn’t going to stop using drugs.” She took another long swallow of wine. “I stopped loving him when I realized the David I agreed to marry wasn’t coming back. I didn’t want the new David, his addictions, his violence. But there were times when we were apart that I thought maybe it was only temporary and my David would be coming back, you know?”

Max looked down into his wineglass and nodded.

“But he never did. And the last fight …” Mallory swallowed hard. She couldn’t go there right now. “Well, that was the final nail in the coffin. Our relationship is dead.”
Maybe if I keep saying that, it will eventually sink in
.

“I’m sorry,” Max said.

“Me too. So, unless you want to order another bottle of wine, we’ve got to change the subject. I’m sick of talking about me. Tell me more about this place. I want to hear the good stuff, though, not what I can read in the brochure in my room.”

“I’ve seen some things,” Max admitted. “You’ve got to have a pretty open mind to work here. You get desensitized to the nudity after a while. Before it was like, ‘Whoa! That chick is naked.’ Now it’s like, ‘Oh they moved the orgy to the main ballroom. I hope the staff can clean it up before the breakfast lecture.’ Things like that.”

“Orgies?”

“My favorites are the Roman ones. Complete with togas and grapes. Housekeeping always has a fit because they lose about half their sheets when the party’s over.”

“Are you a participant?”

“I like to watch,” he said, giving her another smoldering look.

Oh my
. Mallory’s temperature went up a few degrees and she resisted the urge to fan herself with the napkin. “Do you like working here?”

“It’s a good gig. I kill in tips.”

“Do you do other things than teach martial arts?”

“I’m one of Club Inferno’s Doms.”

Did he say
Don
? Like Corleone?
Mallory decided to ask for clarification on this one. “What’s a Dom do?”

“Club Inferno is Couture’s dungeon. We set up scenes for the submissives, and work with them to bring out their inner fantasies.”

“Like what kind of fantasies?”

“The standard BDSM stuff.”

Mallory wasn’t sure what was standard. “So they pay Couture for you to have sex with them?”

“I’m not a gigolo.” His voice was even, but firm.

Mallory choked on her wine. “I wasn’t asking … I was not implying that. I’m so sorry.” She coughed a little.

Max shrugged. “I figured I’d come out with it. A lot of people assume that I can be bought for a night, even if it’s against company policy. But Colleen is very strict about walking the narrow line of the law. If we cross it, we’re out. She can’t afford a prostitution scandal.”

“Yeah, that does ruin one’s day.”
Ask me how I know
.

“I’m not saying it doesn’t happen. Most times, though, I don’t think money changes hands. I run some scenes that get pretty hot. The heat of the moment gets to you. But I only have sex for fun. You know?”

I’d like to
.

Surprised at the thought, she could only nod.

“All the instructors pull double duty. I run the self-defense workshop as an exercise track for the fashion side. And for the kinkier side outside of the dungeon, I also do a creative visualization session that’s meant to soothe nerves and lower inhibitions. I’m not a therapist or anything, but I do know what feels good.”

I bet you do
.

“Whether it’s hitting a punching bag or relaxing through guided meditation.”

“You’re a man of many talents. Do you get propositioned a lot?”