Josephine should have known it was all an act, and at first kept that in mind. But was Raoul such an actor? He had even her fooled; the tone of his voice made her wince. His words hurt, though she should have known they were all lies, every syllable that rolled off his tongue. But somewhere, hidden deep inside her, was the part of her that was like Alyxander; a part that was wary and unable to trust, having been taught outsiders were dangerous to her. That part of her was awake again, but she pushed it down. Head still hung, blue eyed gaze locked on the ground. 'He was never like his father, and he will never be.'