On the surface, Vicki knew it was all just a game to him - some twisted form of cat-and-mouse. Still, underneath it all, beneath the pretenses and the borderline-patronizing "thank you, Vicki"s as she politely handed him his coffee each morning (she told herself it was strictly manners. She was near the coffee pot anyway, why not help out a little?), Vicki couldn't help but think that it was somehow a test instead, and that maybe Roger Collins did have an ounce of unselfishness in his soul, and maybe he did care about her. Somewhere. Underneath it all.
It wasn't that Vicki expected him to marry her; she wasn't that naive. She just wished for a little bit of acknowledgment, a few less secrets stored inside the walls already busting at the seams with them - secrets of that sort and darker. She was never the sort of girl for secret affairs. She thought that was the stuff of romance novels, not reality. It was ridiculous; Vicki was a practical girl. Why was she bothering herself with this?
And then they would meet. They'd meet in the drawing room, generally, and Roger would come in for a nightcap, Vicki to check over David's schoolwork. Yet, they both knew that they were there for something more. It was a key part of their game. The conversation would be forced, the atmosphere undeniably charged. And Roger's glass of brandy would turn into another, and then another, and Vicki would grip her pen tightly and tell herself that it was nothing, but this was how it always was. She'd pretend to ignore it as long as she could, until she could feel his fingertips playing at her hair.
The time it took varied. He might kiss her, he might scarcely touch her at all, but sooner or later, the cat would figuratively pounce, and the mouse would literally scurry away. Scurry up the stairs and into her bedroom, locking the door behind her lest the cat be prowling the halls.
Vicki knew, on the surface, it was the anticipation and suspense that kept him hanging on. He enjoyed testing her limits, and she would keep him dangling as long as she could - in the spirit of the sport. And the game would begin again.