Sophia took a few steps into the room, whirling back to watch Ozymandias close the door. Feeling a touch disappointed by their loss of proximity, she had to resist the urge to stride right back and perhaps trap him against that door. But if nothing else, the art of performance taught her that there is a moment to act - and an equally important moment to pause and wait.

At the mention of gifts, a coquettish smile crossed her lips. For someone who said he could be persuaded, it certainly sounded like the current moved in the opposite direction. “Oh, no need for gifts,” she answered smoothly. “I much prefer to receive acts of service myself.”

Allowing his imagination to elaborate on the meaning, the ballerina took a seat on the edge of her chaise lounge.  Of course she loved gifts, and anticipated this man’s cheque book also served as his diary for a wide variety of sordid interests. But agreeing to take part in that was simply not the impression Sophia wished to give. She’d sooner crawl out of her own skin than associate with the profession of a prostitute... This being a fine line that rakish men did not often appreciate in their bumbling assumptions about the “lower class”. As if one’s desire to pursue love, dreams, and ambition had anything to do with their dignity. Such a suggestion would normally lead to a prompt dispatch at the hands of two burly stagemen, but then this situation was not normal, and Sophia did not feel offended. Ozy played his cards well, after all.

In return, Sophia did not feel the need to impress herself on Dempsey. This was her territory now, and in fact, she felt rather predatorial in anticipation. He would come to her when ready, she decided, using this opportunity to lean back one on arm and tilt her head. Best not scare away the kitten. “Ah, I have a penchant for spotting hidden talent,” she teased instead. “I’m pleased to hear that my instinct is not wrong.”

“I’m certain that I would quite appreciate your various talents,” she went on, her low demure tone belied by the direct appraisal of their terms. “Though I must confess that I prefer setting clear boundaries between my personal and, mm, professional life.” Sophia had a life outside of this. Quite an important one, one that involved setting examples for children, and having some bit of regard for the reputation of her better-stationed siblings. Still unsure if their paths may cross beyond this, Soph was not inclined to subject herself to what others had to say about what a woman can or can’t do while in mourning wear.

“Of course, that makes me no less passionate about my work. If anything, it makes me far better at what I do.” She schooled her expression to mirror his aloof demeanor, but she knew her lingering blush gave it away.

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