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earlier distress had vanished, replaced by a dangerously
self-assured confidence. “You should tell me more about that dungeon of yours.”
    “No.” He released her and backed away. “What I should do is
put you in a cab and send you back to the hotel. And that’s what I’m going to
do right now.”

Chapter Three
     
    Melanie spent the next morning doing the spa thing with her
mother, stepmother and Jovanna. Her face tingled from the herbs in the European
scrub and her scalp ached from a vigorous massage. After the night she’d spent
tossing and turning, wanting Sam and trying to figure out why he didn’t want to
desire her, the morning’s grooming activities only exhausted her further.
    Snuggled into a fluffy white robe, she wiggled her toes in a
basin of hot, perfumed water. The whirlpool pedicure tub frothed bubbles around
her ankles while a small, silent woman massaged moisturizer into her right
hand. Neither the steam nor the acupressure did anything for her headache, and
she couldn’t block out the sound of maternal advice being pushed upon Jovanna.
    By some blessed stroke of luck, the motherly figures
finished their mani-pedis first and left to get started on the hot stone
massages they’d both decided upon.
    Jovanna groaned out loud once they were gone. “I am so glad
they live away from David. Far, far away.”
    Melanie closed her eyes. “Not as glad as I am. I don’t even
want to think about the ‘when are you going to get married’ harassment I’d
suffer if they were closer than email and phone calls. Bad enough that my dad
thinks I need a financial planner and a husband, or a financial planner as a
husband.”
    “What do you think you need?”
    “I dunno. An android to manage my bank account and my schedule
so I don’t have to.” She grimaced, reminded of the scheduling mess she had to
puzzle through when she returned to New York. She’d missed her chance to
register for a required class, and somehow had to convince somebody to add her
to the overfull roster. Maybe if she showed up with a photo of the litter of
dehydrated kittens that had sidetracked her on her way to the registrar’s
office, she’d win a little sympathy for her situation.
    A few minutes later, Jovanna spoke again. “Sorry about
dinner last night. David and I got distracted. Leaving you alone with Sam
wasn’t the plan.”
    Melanie’s pulse sped up and she tensed. Trying to keep her
tone neutral, she said, “It was fine. Everybody was finished eating anyway.”
    “Yeah.” Jovanna paused before asking, “What did you two do
after leaving the restaurant?”
    “We walked over to the Bellagio to see the fountain show.”
The nail technician sprayed Melanie’s hands with a drying agent and promised to
come back shortly to check the polish. Once they were alone, Melanie
half-turned in her chair to look at Jovanna. “Do you know him pretty well?”
    “Who, Sam?”
    Melanie nodded.
    Jovanna drummed her crimson-lacquered fingertips on the arms
of her chair, obviously trying to decide what to say in reply.
    Before the other woman could deflect or give a vague answer,
Melanie spoke again. “I know he’s, uh, kinky. So if you’re trying to figure out
a way around that, you don’t have to worry about preserving my pristine
innocence. I just want to know other stuff about him.”
    “Like what?” Jovanna asked warily.
    Melanie took a deep breath. “Like whether he has a contract
with anybody right now.”
    Jovanna cringed. “Oh my God. What do you know about
contracts? Have you slept with him?”
    “Um. There hasn’t been any sleeping, no.”
    At that moment, Jovanna’s phone chimed with an incoming
text. While she read and responded, Melanie slumped in the chair. She wished
she hadn’t opened the subject of Sam up for discussion.
    “I don’t know him well enough to have any details about his
personal life,” Jovanna said several minutes later. “I don’t think anybody
does. I’ve heard vague rumors that he’s