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  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not. You have a right to your own life. I’m not judging.” Mallory pushed the hair out of her eyes. Seeing how polished and perfect her sister looked made her self-conscious. She’d never be as flamboyant as Colleen, but she didn’t have to let her jealousy show. They walked until they got to the corner office. It was decorated with her sister’s erotic style. Mallory tried not to look at the well-hung marble statue in the corner, but … damn.

  At Colleen’s snort, Mallory tore her eyes away. “Sorry. I was being snotty. I’m on edge.”

  “I noticed.” Colleen closed the door behind them. “Have a seat.” She walked over to an antique armoire and opened it. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

  Mallory sank gratefully into a leather couch that faced the glass wall behind her sister’s massive desk. It was a picture-perfect Connecticut autumn. The leaves were just turning gold and fire red. “I never thought I would see the day that you would give up the big city.” At the clink of glasses, Mallory turned to see her sister was pouring two drinks. “Who has a bar in their office?” she said. “What kind of business are you running here?”

  “None of yours.” Colleen handed her a tumbler of whiskey. “This location is close enough to New York yet secluded from outsiders. I actually run several businesses from here.”

  Mallory took a deep pull of the whiskey before realizing it was only ten in the morning. “They’re all legit, right?” she asked meekly. “The sign outside said ‘Couture.’ You’re doing a clothing line with the money Alfie left you, right? This place looks more like a resort.”

  “I’m doing a lot of things with the money Alfie left me. But you didn’t come here to check out my work ethic. You drove in here like your ass was on fire. Why are you scared?” Colleen asked, sitting behind her desk. “And who gave you those bruises?”

  “You can see them through my shirt?” Mallory stared at her arms, but her white blouse looked opaque. Her other bruises had faded to an ugly yellow. Maybe in this light, though, they showed. She glanced back at Colleen, who was watching her with narrowed eyes. “How did you know?” Mallory sighed. Why couldn’t her sister be the blond bimbo stereotype?

  “I didn’t.”

  Mallory closed her eyes. “Damn it.” Apparently, the dumb blonde in the room was her.

  “It wasn’t hard to figure out. The fact that you came to me—of all people—was a big clue. You flinched when someone slammed a door, and you haven’t stopped biting your nails since you got here.”

  Mallory forced her hand down and sat on it. “I need a place to stay. Okay, that’s not the whole truth. I’ve run out of money and I need a place to hide until I can figure out what to do. And this is the last place David would look for me.”

  “Yes, yes, it would be,” Colleen said. “He hit you?”

  Mallory held up a hand to stop her sister’s outburst before it started. “I broke up with him for good this time. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

  “He always was a piece of shit.”

  “Colleen!”

  “When did he start smacking you around?”

  “He beat me up the first time when I told him I thought it was over between us.”

  “The first time?”

  Mallory flinched. “I’m trying to tell you the story.”

  Colleen tapped flawless red nails on her desk as she looked at her phone. “You know, I still have some contacts in Vegas. He can cease to be a problem to anyone.”

  “No,” Mallory said. “Jeeze, Colleen. I don’t want him dead. I just want him to go away.”

  “I can do that too,” she purred.

  “No. Look, let me just tell you the rest of it.”

  “There’s more?”

  Mallory closed her eyes and tried to find some inner strength. Every part of her just wanted to shrug this off, to joke it away. She didn’t want to be this scared person anymore. She wanted her life back, damn it. “I’ve been in a pretty bad place these past few months.”

  “I know. Joan called me.”

  “She did what?” Mallory stared in disbelief. “Mom said she wouldn’t call you.”

  “Joan lies.”

  Mallory rolled her eyes at Colleen’s inability to use the word “Mom.”

  “Now spill it before I put her on speakerphone.”

  Just say it. Just like you rehearsed.

  Shame flooded through Mallory and she couldn’t admit defeat in front of her sister. Mallory had always been the “perfect” one. Colleen had always been the “troublemaker.” She didn’t want to switch roles and she racked her brain to think of a way to shrug it off so she could appear to be normal. Knowing she had issues, Mallory shook her head. “I don’t know where to begin.” She took a sip of her drink. “This stuff is really good.”

  “It’s blue label.”

  “Do you know how much that costs?” Mallory said. She put the glass down on the desk before she dropped it. She was jittering her leg again and forced herself to stop.

  “What caused you to go into hiding for two months?” Colleen slid a woven coaster under the glass.

  Mallory blew out another sigh. “David is addicted to drugs.”

  “No shit,” Colleen said. “That asshole had so much coke up his nose, if he sneezed it would snow.”

  Mallory choked on her laughter. It had been so long since she’d found something funny that the laugh felt forced and rusty. She took another swig of the blue label. It made the rest of the story easier. She told Colleen everything.

  “Did you call the police?” Colleen’s voice was flat and as cold as her icy blue eyes.

  Mallory shook her head.

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because by the time I got my head on straight I thought it was too late.”

  “Can you put out a restraining order on him?”

  “Sure, but I’d have to go to the courthouse and see all his friends. I think he’ll just make it worse for me.” Mallory threw her arms out in exasperation, reaching up to grab her hair. But instead of pulling it out like she wanted to, she ran her fingers through it, trying to make it fall half as nice as Colleen’s.

  “He can try. But I guarantee that he’ll fail,” Colleen swore. “I’ll have him disbarred faster than you can say XTC.”

  “I just don’t want a confrontation right now,” Mallory said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I can’t take it.”

  “Okay,” Colleen said, leaning back in her desk chair. “I’ll back off. So why did you come here instead of Aruba or Paris or, heck, Bora-Bora?”

  “Joan—I mean Mom—threatened me. Besides, I’m broke. No job and maxed credit cards. I suppose I could have gone to a shelter. A battered women’s shelter.” Mallory cringed. “I just didn’t want to admit that I was one. You know?”

  Colleen reached across and held her hand. “I know this must be awful for you. Do you want me to loan you the cash?”

  “It’s not that easy. If I just needed money, I’d cash in my retirement account.”

  Colleen’s nose crinkled. “The penalties …”

  Mallory interrupted her before the lecture started. “I know. Look, I came here because I was afraid David would find me and I would be all alone when he did. I don’t want to be a burden. I’ll trade you my medical skills for room and board. The moment one of your fashion models twists her ankles in her high heels, I’ll have paid for myself.”

  “I have a medical team on staff. Dr. Parks heads it up. He was Alfie’s personal doctor. I liked him so much, I offered him a job.”

  “Oh.” Mallory had nothing else to offer.

  “You need to know something,” Colleen said, pouring them both more whiskey. “What I’m going to tell you cannot leave this room. Couture is not what you think it is.”

  Mallory went back to the whiskey and tried to emulate her sister’s eyebrow.

  “Do you have to sneeze?” Colleen pushed a box of tissues her way.

  “This isn’t … y
ou’re not doing the escort service thing again, are you?”

  Colleen smiled. “Not exactly.”

  “That’s not a no.”

  “None of my clients pay for sex.”

  “Oh,” Mallory breathed out. “That’s a relief.”

  “Some of them pay for sex instruction.”

  “What? The sign says Couture, not Coitus!”

  “Couture is many things to many people. To the movers and shakers in Paris, Milan, and of course New York, I’ve built a resort that’s a perpetual fashion convention, complete with a spa and nightlife. I am working on a line, but I’m just dabbling in it right now. My friend Anya just flew in to help me with it. She’s a model, but she really has an eye for fashion. Truthfully, I’d rather wear the clothes than design them.”

  Mallory nodded.

  “But the true purpose of Couture is catering to an exclusive client list that comes here to relax and rejuvenate their sex lives. Some come to explore new experiences that they’ve read about or have always dreamed about. We offer them hands-on workshops and demonstrations with professionals in the business. And yes, also a spa and nightlife.”

  “How hands-on? What type of pros?”

  “It depends on the instructor. My clients are carefully screened and vetted before they’re accepted onto Couture’s very private list.”

  “Why hide it? Why not say ‘Sex Instructor: First Lesson Free’ or something?”

  “If I wanted my marketing to sound like a T-shirt slogan, I would have a man with facial hair walk around with signs that say ‘Free Mustache Rides.’ ” Colleen rolled her eyes. “Look, no one pickets an organization devoted to haute couture and the fashion industry. Like our website says, we’re a creative outlet and a think tank for everyone from the budding fashion designer all the way up to the giants of Fashion Week.”

  “So where does the kinky stuff come in?”

  “That’s what I really wanted to do. But if I opened an educational society that caters to fulfilling fantasies and learning how to better your sex life? Well, my little blue-law-loving neighbors don’t want that kind of element in their area. But if I front a Project Runway wet dream with exclusive events where celebrities go to mix and mingle? Everyone wants that.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “What’s to say? Consenting adults are paying me money to show them a good time. And it’s all perfectly legal, Polly Prissy Pants.”

  “I’m not …” Mallory drained her drink. “I’m not judging.” Leave it to Colleen to get my mind off David.

  “But you want to,” Colleen said in a singsong voice.

  “If the sexy part is so private, why do you have penis bushes on your front lawn?”

  “What?”

  Mallory got up and went to the window. She pointed. “Hah!”

  “That’s a dolphin, you pervert.”

  “What?” Mallory cocked her head. “It looks like …”

  “A cigar?”

  “Up yours, Freud. I know a penis when I see one.”

  “Apparently not, because that’s a dolphin.”

  “Why do you have a dolphin on your front lawn?” Mallory looked up and saw Colleen’s smile. “You’re putting me on.”

  “I’m a Miami Dolphins fan.”

  “Didn’t that idiot Chase play for them?”

  Colleen frowned. “I don’t remember. I just remember the parties.”

  “You live a crazy life. You always have. After that shit-heel dumped you for those football whores, I worried that you’d go too far.”

  Colleen looked at her nails. “For the record, I dumped him.”

  “Yeah, well, when you married Alfie, I thought, ‘Finally, she found a nice, mature man to settle down with.’ ”

  “That’s kind. Everyone else thought I was a gold digger.”

  “I met him. I saw how crazy he was for you. And you loved him too in your own way.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Colleen said, putting her hands on her hips.

  “It means he wasn’t the love of your life.”

  “Oh, and David was the love of yours?”

  “Until he started shooting his paycheck in his arm. Until he thought it was okay for me to be a punching bag.” Mallory’s throat closed and she shut her eyes. “Can I stay here or what?”

  “Do you still want to? Now that you know people are having orgasms all around you?”

  Mallory opened her eyes. “How many orgasms?”

  “Multiple!”

  The two sisters grinned at each other and burst into laughter.

  “Yes, I want to stay. But I don’t want to see you in a dominatrix outfit.”

  “Honey, you couldn’t afford it.”

  Chapter Three

  Colleen led her to a room in what she called the vanilla wing. Somehow, Mallory didn’t think she was talking about the ice-cream flavor. Still, the room was tastefully decorated and if she didn’t know better, she would have thought it was an upscale hotel room. In fact, the only thing that was a little off was the bedside table with a package of flavored condoms and a new, unopened, vibrator.

  I guess the fashion side of Couture gets a little kinky too.

  After she unpacked what little she’d managed to stuff in her duffel bag, Mallory fidgeted around the room. There were so many things she’d left behind. She couldn’t find her doctor’s bag, and that bothered her because of the prescription drugs in it. It was a locked case, but if someone—oh, say David—wanted to get in there it wouldn’t stop him for long. Plus she didn’t have her phone. She couldn’t take work calls or field David’s calls.

  He’d probably pawn her jewelry. That gorgeous emerald necklace Colleen had bought her for graduating med school was probably in a pawnbroker’s window right now. The Cartier watch that her parents got her was fair game too. Mallory clenched her teeth. Maybe she could call him to meet her at a restaurant and then while he was there waiting for her to show up, she could sneak into the apartment and out again.

  She turned on the television to settle her nerves and found another way the room differed from one in a normal hotel. The porn channels were free. She watched for a few moments and eyed the vibrator before shutting off the TV. It all seemed like too much work. After two months of hiding and feeling lower than dirt, Mallory couldn’t see herself getting lost in passion. Although she’d like to. She picked up the vibrator box and looked at it. Man, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d let go. Laughing with Colleen this afternoon was the first time in a long while that she’d felt normal. It gave her a little hope that maybe the old Mallory would replace this new Mallory that was beaten down and afraid of her own shadow.

  The knock on her door made her bobble the vibrator. So much for that thought. Her nerves were shot. Maybe she’d go hunt down that bottle of blue label and take the vibrator out for a spin after all. Putting it back on the night table, she walked over to the door. After peering through the peephole, she opened the door for her sister.

  “How are you settling in?” Colleen pushed her way inside, followed by a dreamboat of a man. He was tall and powerfully built, filling out a pair of jeans and a Couture T-shirt quite nicely. His black hair was slicked back into a ponytail and he had a goatee. Mallory had always hated goatees until she saw Robert Downey Jr. in Iron Man, and then she became a fan. This guy made Iron Man look like a weakling. He had dark, kind eyes and he was looking at her appreciatively.

  “Good,” Mallory said, clenching her hands so she wouldn’t bite her nails. She was hyperaware of the condoms and vibrator just sitting there on the table. What was her sister up to now?

  “This is Max Spencer. He’s my martial arts trainer.”

  Mallory tried to think of something witty to say, but nothing came to mind. So she shook his hand and tried not to wonder if he was her sister’s lover.

  “Max is going to show you around the place.”

  “What!” Mallory said, and then lowered the volume when they both winced.
“I mean, I’m not here for the sex. That is, I’m not a prude,” she said to Max.

  “Yes, she is.” Colleen laid her hand on Max’s bulging bicep and gave him a knowing look.

  “I am not.” Mallory refused to stamp her foot, so she glared daggers at her sister and her smug expression.

  “Say ‘dildo.’ ”

  “What?” Mallory adjusted her tone again. “Why would I need to say that?”

  “See,” Colleen said. “She can’t do it.”

  “Yes, I can. I’m just choosing not to.” Mallory considered smacking Colleen upside her perfectly styled head.

  “Do you even hear what you sound like?”

  “Ladies,” Max said, stepping between them. He had a voice that sounded like a Harley’s engine and her insides quivered at the bass. “This isn’t necessary.”

  “I can say it,” Mallory spat, but she shrank back at the full force of Max’s hazel eyes. He smelled good, too. Part of her wanted to bury her nose in his T-shirt and breathe him in. Too bad he probably thought she was an idiot the way she was acting. When he turned away to look at Colleen, Mallory mouthed “dildo” at her sister.

  “Doesn’t count,” Colleen said. “Anyway, before the flying nun over here had a conniption, I was going to tell her that only VIP members of Couture can access the special classes. Nonmembers or prospective members are only allowed on the main levels. To them, we are exactly what our marketing says we are: a resort retreat for the fashion conscious. We also give kick-ass parties on the weekend that everyone is invited to. So fortunately, you’ll get to mingle. Your cover story …”

  “I need a cover story? I’m your sister.”

  “Yes, but we don’t want word of that getting out in case David has friends in high places.”

  “I didn’t think of that.” Mallory bit her lip.

  “You’re a prospective member enjoying your time with us. In the meantime, Max is going to give you some lessons.”

  Mallory was trying not to shriek again, so she cleared her throat instead. “What type of lessons are we talking about?”