Vivienne turned toward the mirror and stopped.
Helena was right.
She was a mess.
Her hair hung loose, strands clinging to her flushed neck. Her blouse sat crooked, wrinkled where his hands had gripped. And her lips... swollen, bruised deep red... screamed exactly what had happened in that hallway.
She reached up, smoothing her hair back with sharp movements, straightening her collar, erasing the evidence.
'Did Helena suspect something?' The thought flickered through her mind, accompanied by a small flutter of anxiety.
Vivienne paused, studying her reflection.
Then she exhaled slowly, her shoulders relaxing.
'Let her know.'
She wasn't keeping it a secret anyway. Helena would find out eventually. Besides, it wasn't as if she'd done anything wrong. She'd simply... tested the merchandise before the official presentation.
Vivienne's lips curved into a small, private smile.
But as the adrenaline faded, a different sensation made itself known.
