Dangerous game

After playing the piano, until her fingers were stiff and bruised, and her heart and soul had finally returned from the clouds to re-inhabit her body, Sephora trudged up to bed and collapsed onto the silken covers. Exhaustion dragging her to sleep, after her late night visit with Vince during the ungodly hours of the morning.

She woke up a few hours later, to glance at her bedside desk, her clock telling her that it was almost time for dinner. Sephora groaned and rolled onto her back, staring at the cream ceiling of her four-poster bed, reluctant at wanting to get up anytime soon.

She was still silently stressing about when to tell Ambrose what she'd been up to. After she'd quite deliberately gone behind his back, and did exactly what he'd told her not to do - which was play into Vince's hand, to get information. And although it made her a hypocrite, for not being honest with him, and it made her untrustworthy for disobeying him - she'd got the information they so desperately needed,