"Tell me the truth, Helena."
For a second, Vivienne wavered. The compulsion to answer him, to drop the mask and reveal the woman beneath, was terrifyingly strong. He was looking at her not as a conquest, but as a mystery he intended to solve.
But the game was too fun. The deception was too sweet. And the truth... the truth would end it all too soon.
She let a slow, wicked smile curve her lips, pushing the vulnerability down and pulling the mask back up.
"The truth?" She laughed, a fragile, brittle sound. "You're suspicious of me, aren't you? You're wondering why I'm here."
She stepped back, her hand slipping from his grasp.
"You're right to be suspicious. It doesn't make sense, does it? Why the loyal assistant, the cousin, the aunt to that spoiled brat... is standing here in your arms, cursing the very hand that feeds her?"
