I took a deep breath as I prepared to lie through my teeth.
The police station loomed ahead, its stern concrete facade a perfect backdrop for what I was about to do. Liam stood beside me, his hand resting possessively on my lower back. I allowed myself to enjoy his touch for a moment before focusing on the task at hand.
"Remember," I whispered to him, "I'm doing this as a favor. That bitch Daphne tried to steal from the charity fund at the gala. Her brother owes me."
Liam nodded, his expression hardening. "Just give your statement and we're done. We have better things to do than help the Beaumonts."
I adjusted my designer blouse and practiced my concerned face one more time. The bruise I'd carefully applied with makeup this morning looked almost real—just enough to suggest I'd witnessed something traumatic.
