Jonah gave her a half-grin. “I thought it was nice illustration of your love of roses.”
Vera opened her mouth slightly, and Jonah knew he'd scored more points. Still batting a thousand.
“So did you really get paid in roses when you first became a stage actress?” he asked her.
“Oh yeah,” snorted Vera. “I didn't make that up. I played Guinevere a couple times when I was seventeen. The guy in charge gave me three dozen of them just for 'being the fairest.' ”
They laughed, but Vera sobered quickly.
“Of course,” she ran her thumb along her jaw line, as if by reflex, “I didn't have the scars back then.”
Jonah looked at her intently. “Are the ones on your jaw and your upper arm the only ones?”
Vera sipped some wine. “No. I have a few scars on my thighs, several on my back, and some on my s
