When she finished the questions, she took the papers and went to the kitchen. Two plates had already been set along with salad bowls and wine glasses. One of the servants unobtrusively filled the plates and bowls. Dinner was Caesar salad, chicken Parmesan with risotto, and some red wine. Leo drank wine with practically every meal and seemed keen to break her of her orange juice habit.

Faith ate while he looked over her answers. Occasionally he said “hmmm” in between bites. She tried to stay focused on her food. She just wanted to get through the meal and then go hide again. When they were finished, she started to get up to go back to her room, but Leo stopped her.

“No. We have less than a week before they get here. We have to practice. Come with me.”

He left their papers on the table and led her down the hallway to a sitting room. The absence of the questionnaires left no doubt as to what they would be practicing. She tried not to have a panic attack as she trailed behind him.

He’d left her alone for three days. He hadn’t tried anything. He hadn’t killed her. Nobody had done anything to hurt her. But the threat of the dungeon loomed large. If she pulled away from him too many times, would he lock her up? She couldn’t help how his intensity frightened her. She was used to less intimidating guys, guys who let her take the lead, though she didn’t like that much. Were there no happy mediums with men? A man who would take some control but not be so overbearing and terrifying?

She tried to imagine how she’d survive being kept tied up in the dark for a week if Leo got fed up. Would someone feed her? They’d have to. At least give her water or she’d die. Would he care if she did? She wanted to believe he wasn’t a monster, but she couldn’t bring herself to let her guard down to trust even something so basic. Not when their worlds were so different.

Leo sat on a brown leather sofa at one end of the room. “Come sit beside me, Faith.”

It was odd that she should have been given such a name when she’d never had much faith in anyone or anything. Even religion had been something that had inspired little more than doubt. Each time her name was spoken, it mocked her and her inability to trust.

She sat at the other end of the couch, and he quirked an eyebrow. “Really? This is how an engaged couple sits? As if they are afraid of spreading a contagion? Sit next to me.” He patted the cushion beside him and reluctantly she scooted closer.

When she was within reach, he pulled her to him so her thigh pressed against his. His arm went around her and she was forced to lean against him.

“Relax,” he soothed, his fingers trailing through her hair.