Page 35 of The Sinner's Bargain

Vance seemed to accept this with a slow bob of his head as he slathered butter over his bread in slow, gliding motions. “Well, that’s quite unfortunate, isn’t it? Who was your friend?”

“He wasn’t my friend,” she retorted quick and sharp.

“Where did you meet him?”

She drew in a breath. “He was the friend of a friend.”

“A lover?” Vance pressed immediately.

I watched the deep crease in her brow and the annoyance bright in her eyes when she pursed her lips. “No.”

“Is there a lover we should keep an eye out for?” Vance plowed on. “A husband? Someone looking for you at this moment.”

It was there.

A flicker.

A sliver of hesitation that had me narrowing my eyes.

“No.” Whispered. Barely audible, but even less convincing.

So, that was it. A husband, maybe a boyfriend. Some fucking douchebag who hurt her. Someone she had literally abandoned her entire life to get away from.

My gaze went to the tightly coiled fists in her lap, and I knew she had reopened the wounds in her palms.

“Where were you headed?” Vance asked around a mouthful of toast.

“Can you stop interrogating the poor girl please?” Oliver interjected. “Let her eat.”

Vance set his toast down on his plate and dusted the crumbs from his fingers. “This is not an interrogation. I’m simply having a conversation with a woman who just showed up in the dead of night dressed like an escort.”

“Enough.” The word came out of my throat when I had no memory of thinking them.

It didn’t surprise me that Vance would know what she was wearing despite not having been there to see it. The whole manor would have been buzzing about it. The last woman to grace the halls of Lacroix House had been Penelope and that was over a year ago. This woman was an anomaly. A gorgeous one and in that dress, she was hard to forget.

But I would not allow him to disrespect her.

“She could be,” Vance pointed out. “She could be anything. A spy perhaps.”

“A spy?” she murmured as if the word was foreign.

“Yes, a spy,” Vance shot back. “There are many who would love to get access to Lacroix House. Sending a beautiful woman in distress is exactly what I would do.”

“I think there is a time and a place for this type of talk and it’s not at the breakfast table,” Oliver shot in. “She’s not going anywhere. You can wait.”

Vance responded, which had Oliver arguing back. The two continued in their usual fashion, but I was watching our guest. She hadn’t said a word but sat still and silent staring at her plate while an array of emotions deepened the delicate lines of her face. If she were a spy, she wasn’t a very good one. Her every thought was broadcasted in 3D across her face, ranging from confusion to finally settling on horror then fear. It was the fear that interested me.

Fear that she’d been caught?

Fear that the person she was running from might find her?

Fear of me?

It did make it much easier to decide on my own course of action. Oliver wasn’t going to like it, but our new houseguest just became a whole lot more dangerous.

She couldn’t be allowed to leave now.

I kept the thought to myself throughout breakfast. I watched her push a small pile of eggs not even enough for a child around her plate with the metal tongs of her fork but never actually bring any of it to her mouth. She made no sound, barely raised her head, but I didn’t miss the flicks of her eyes towards the windows like she wanted nothing more than to crawl out of them.

---