"What's the matter darling? You said you'd let me draw on you." Holding the blade against her back, Vincent offered Isabel a handsome, cruel smile. Her complacency never ceased to amaze him.
Turning his attention away from Isabel's face, Vincent moved the scalpel across the skin of her shoulder in a sharp curve, smiling as a fresh smear of blood sprang up from the wound. She was such a foolish, foolish thing.