Chapter 1
Mallory tried to swallow down the panic that was rising in her throat. How could Celeste possibly have a tape of Jake a Mallory together? Had someone been spying on them in Venice? Celeste was still grinning at her, a sharp edge to her sweet smile.
“Of course I know about Jake’s tendencies,” she gloated. “I do have first-hand experience.”
Jake slept with this bitch? Mallory was outraged. And hurt.
Celeste looked at her appraisingly, disdainfully. “Although I have no idea what appeal you hold for him. How did you convince him to take you to Venice? For three nights, no less; he hasn’t been with any of the others for more than one night since my dear friend Jennifer got dumped.” Her face twisted into a frown, as though she had something sour in her mouth. “Maybe he likes the whole hired help thing, like the French maid fetish. That would certainly make sense, seeing as he loves making you serve him.” She shot Mallory a contemptuous look.
Her cheeks flamed red. Maybe Celeste was lying about the tape. After all, she said she knew about Jake’s kinks. Maybe she was inventing it. Mallory had a nasty taste in her mouth just thinking about them together.
“And how do I know that you’re telling the truth?” She asked challengingly, clinging to mad hope.
Celeste’s eyes glinted. “‘I need you, Sir.’ ” She said in a mocking tone. “God, what a cold bitch you are, you gold-digging whore. How dare you manipulate him like that?”
Mallory was appalled. And furious. She wanted to vindicate herself, to rail at Celeste that she wasn’t a gold-digger and that her feelings for Jake were real. But she knew that her arguments would be falling on deaf ears. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at the leering blonde. “If you think that intimidating me will get Jake to fall for you, you’re mistaken, bitch. I’m not going anywhere. When I tell him about this, you are going to be in deep shit.”
Celeste’s smile never wavered. “But you’re not going to tell him. If you do, I’ll release the tape so fast you won’t even see your world crumbling down around you until it’s in ashes.” Her eyes flashed menacingly. “And believe me, I’ll know if you tell him.”
Mallory felt as though Celeste had wrapped her well-manicured claws around her throat, squeezing, cutting off her air. How could she possibly know? But she knew the intimate details of her couplings with Jake. If she knew that, surely she would be privy to anything that Mallory said to him.
Celeste leaned in as though to kiss her on the cheek. “Leave now,” she whispered, her voice a purr, “and save him and yourself. If you don’t, I will ruin you both.”
And with that, she turned from Mallory, sauntering back into the crowd with a smirk on her face.
Mallory stood there for a moment, frozen in horror. Pull it together, she ordered herself. Get out now. As much as she hated herself for doing it, she knew that she had to do what Celeste had ordered. Her dreams of being a teacher could be crushed for good if that tape came out. Not to mention the shame it would bring on Jake. Mallory thought of his mother, who had been so kind to her. In her mind, Susan’s easy smile turned to a furious scowl, hatred and contempt for Mallory etched into the lines of her face.
Bile was rising in Mallory’s throat, but she forced her feet to move, her knees to bend. Scanning the ballroom, she saw that Jake was deep in conversation with an elegantly dressed couple in the far corner of the room. If she could just get out without him seeing her…
She walked to the exit as though in a drunken haze, the edges of her vision blurring as she fought back tears. Her fingers were trembling in shock and rage.
She paused in the corridor that would lead her out of the house and away from Jake. But she couldn’t just leave him without saying anything. Gathering up her resolve, she turned to the stairs that lead up to Jake’s office, treading up them as quickly as she could; she had to get this over with as soon as possible before Jake found her and confronted her. She knew that she couldn’t bear to see him without breaking down.
When she entered his office, memories assailed her; memories that had once been pleasant but now they caused her nothing but pain. She couldn’t help pausing to run her fingers over the spines of the books that lined the walls, the ones that had been knocked to the floor when Jake had first thrown her up against them, pulling her in with his demanding kiss. Swiping angrily at the tears streaming down her face, she turned sharply towards the enormous desk in the corner.
With shaking fingers, she undid the clasp of the gorgeous necklace that Jake had given her. There was no way that she could keep it given what she was about to do; keeping his gift would make it seem like she still cared.
After carefully laying the necklace on the desk, she began ripping open drawers, searching frantically for pen and paper. When she had what she needed, she sank down in Jake’s chair in order to write her goodbye. As she did so, his masculine scent mingled with that of the leather, inundating her mind with memories of their time in his dungeon, when the same smells pervaded the room, blending with her own musky arousal.
Shaking herself, she forced pen to paper. Her usually neat handwriting was an untidy scrawl; she could hardly see what she was writing through her tears.
Jake,
I can’t do this anymore. We don’t belong to the same world. Please forgive me.
She could think of nothing else to say, and she had to get going. Not knowing what formality to end with - “sincerely” was too cold, but “love” would never do – she simply signed her name and then bolted from the room before she could tear the note to pieces.
She fled down the stairs and darted down the corridor leading out of the house. She was almost at the door when a strong hand on her upper arm stopped her short.
“Mallory.” She heard his voice and couldn’t hold back a sob. There was no way she could handle this. Without looking his way, she tugged at her arm, trying to jerk it out of his grip. But he held her firmly, his fingers tightening to an almost bruising force.
“Mallory?” His tone was colored with alarm. “What’s wrong?”