Taming the Lone Wolff(44)

                She dozed off without meaning to, and when she jerked awake and glanced at the clock in a panic, she had just twenty-five minutes to prepare. Her hair was a challenge on the best of days. And of all times, this evening she wanted to appear chic and poised. A tall order for someone with her lack of height and a headful of frizzy curls.

                She brushed out as many of the kinks as she could manage and then used a flatiron to tame the rest. With more luck than dexterity, she captured the unruly mass at the back of her head and secured it in a simple French twist. The diamond teardrop earrings she slipped into her earlobes were small enough for a family evening at home…given that the family in question was the Wolffs.

                Standing in a recently purchased demi bra and panties, she surveyed the dresses she had brought with her. First impressions were important. And there were several ways she could go. Self-important heiress. Quiet outsider. Neutral onlooker.

                Unfortunately, fashion was not always so easily labeled, so in the end, she decided to go with I-need-to-look-good-and-be-comfortable-’cause-I’m-gonna-be-on-display. The dress she chose was red, but that was the only flashy thing about it. The fabric was a silk blend that felt sensuous against her skin. The sleeves ended just below the elbow. A narrow sash cinched her waist, and there was enough fullness in the skirt to swish nicely as she walked.

                Although the back of the dress zipped to the top of her spine, the front dipped in what was for Winnie a daring V. She had always been embarrassed by her generous breasts. And it wasn’t that they were abnormally large, but the rest of her was so small, they stood out. Her habit was to downplay them as much as possible.

                Even now, the cleavage revealed was practically chaste. But as Winnie gazed at herself in the mirror critically, she could almost feel the heat of Larkin’s gaze. The curves revealed by the dress would draw his eyes inevitably. Would he assume she had dressed to please him?

                Tugging the bodice a bit higher, she sighed and went in search of shoes. Black patent-leather heels to be exact. She’d packed sling backs with pointed toes and stiletto heels. The shoes made a statement.

                Her legs were as white as the rest of her, but she couldn’t abide panty hose. And she didn’t have the nerve to deck herself out in a garter belt and stockings. One hurdle at a time. Surely it was enough that she had bought new underwear. Which Larkin might or might not get to see.

                With eight minutes left for makeup, she relaxed. Long ago she had given up trying to cover her freckles. Lip gloss and a dash of eye shadow were enough to transform her usual ultracasual self into a fashionable, though lightly gilded lily.

                When the knock sounded at her door, she sucked in a breath. Showtime. She flattened her hand on her stomach, seeking in vain to calm the riotous butterflies. Taking her time, she crossed the room and threw wide the door. “I’m ready,” she said.

                * * *

                Larkin couldn’t have been more surprised if she had greeted him stark naked. He swallowed hard, caught unawares by the sheer sexuality she exuded. He tried not to stare at her breasts. Never would he be so rude or gauche with another woman of his acquaintance.

                With his throat dry and his jaw tight, he focused on a spot somewhere over her shoulder. “You look very nice,” he said as he ushered her out into the hall and shut her door.

                Winnie punched him lightly on the shoulder. “I believe that’s called damning with faint praise. I was hoping for better.”

                He debated kissing her. Too damn risky. “Would you rather I told you you’re so hot in that dress I want to take you up against the wall with my hands under your skirt squeezing your ass?”