Page 36 of Vicious Seduction

“Oran,” she said quietly after she’d finished her cake. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why do you think?” I asked back with a good amount of genuine curiosity.

Lina shrugged a shoulder. “Hurting Lawrence would make the most sense, though being here is hardly necessary for that, and stealing me away from him is bound to hurt your business relationship.”

“Maybe I enjoy torturing you.”

Her gaze raked over me. “Possibly.”

“Or I could just be succumbing to family pressures to marry.”

She smirked. “You’re such a good catch you had to blackmail a girl into it, huh?”

I shrugged. “Fewer emotions involved that way. A lot less complicated.”

“True, but you had me agree to a temporary engagement, not a marriage. That’s hardly going to satisfy a Catholic grandma.” She sipped on her drink, eyes roving around the room. I, on the other hand, couldn’t tear my eyes away from her.

“There’s always the possibility I’m doing it for you,” I said evenly.

She looked back at me and chuckled. “This is all for my benefit, is it?”

“I suppose that’s one way to interpret it.” If only she knew.

Her head cocked to the side. “Do you get off on being cryptic? I’d love to have just one straight answer from you. Just once.”

“I tell you what, we get one question each, but only one. Agreed?” It was dangerous but too tempting to pass up.

Her eyes flared. She nodded.

“I’ll start. Why do you live with a roommate?” The roommate question was informative while not overly invasive. I didn’t go for one of the more burning questions I had because I wanted her to tell me herself. I wanted her to volunteer the information.

You want her to trust you.

The realization sat heavily on my chest. It seemed I was doomed to repeat the same damn mistakes I’d made in the past. Only this time, it was worse because I was doing it with my eyes wide open.

Lina stared at me as if she’d misheard. “You can ask me anything, and you want to know about my roommate?”

“Not about her.Whyher. You come from money, Lina. You don’t need to live in an old building with a roommate.”

“You’re right. Icamefrom money. That’s not my money; it’s my mother’s money, and I want nothing to do with it.”

“But if you don’t use their money, how do you afford to wear designer clothes?”

Her chin lifted, but her gaze dropped to her hands. “They aren’t designer—not exactly. They’re mine. I made them. That’s what I do.”

I thought back to the sewing station in her apartment. I knew she was in the design business, but it hadn’t occurred to me that she made the clothes she wore.

Jesus, she was talented.

“The blue gown last night?”

A nod.

I looked down at her perfectly tailored dress.

“Yes, this one, too,” she confirmed. “I put myself through design school, then started a company with a classmate. It took a while to make a name for ourselves, but the business has recently taken off. I’d planned to move into my own place at the beginning of the year, but…” She paused, her teeth raking over her bottom lip. “Things came up, and I was too busy to mess with a move.”

“What things?”

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