She smirked when he asked what truth had left her lips. It was true her voice could be sharp and her words unkind, but she was merely a reflection of how she was treated. If anyone called her something she didn't like, she would call them something bad in return. She didn't like being called a whore, he didn't like being called an idiot. As long as none of the words were spoken, they could both be happy. She knew that one day her simple philosophy might get her into trouble, but it had worked so far.
"I am sorry, my dear Lord Whitemoore," she smiled. "I apologise, if you promise to do the same. I tend to have a sharp tongue when I am met with words I do not like..."
She had to admit he could be quite charming, especially when he changed his strategy to the soft, lingering touch. If he had touched her like this all the time she might even have fallen for him. But she knew better than to tell him that....
A soft gasp escaped her lips when he allowed a soft and warm tongue to run down the length of her neck, and she had to suppress a soft moan. She felt a strange craving inside her, a yearning for his touch - but she had a feeling that he would like this too much if she told him.
She blushed when he said she was enjoying these touches. She could not deny it, as her nipples had hardened by his light caresses, and it could be seen through the light materials of her exquisite dress.
A light squeeze towards her neck caused her to faint, and when she woke up, she was back in the ballroom, without any memories of what had happened only moments before. She opened her eyes and looked around her with confusion. Then she met Lord Acheron's eyes and smiled a bit embarrassed.
"I must have fainted," she said quietly. "I am sorry for causing such trouble..."