Acting on Impulse by Vicki Lewis Thompson

Author:Vicki Lewis Thompson [Thompson, Vicki Lewis]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9781426861253
Google: vrBS5c51CbsC
Amazon: 0373790252
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2002-01-02T07:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 10

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A light snow drifted past Trudy's uncurtained windows, random flakes that reflected the light shining from other windows. Very little light came from hers. The only way she could imagine getting through the first few nerve-racking moments of Linc's arrival was to cloak her apartment in semidarkness.

She hadn't expected the French maid's outfit to be quite so skimpy, and she definitely hadn't expected to become sexually excited just by putting it on. But the ensemble was the most provocative thing she'd ever worn, and knowing that she was wearing something designed to incite a man to lust was doing the same for her. Her black lace panties were already damp.

The dress, what there was of it, was more like a lace-trimmed black bathing suit with a miniskirt attached. The salesclerk had raved about the underwired, fiberfill cups set into the bodice, and Trudy had to admit she suddenly had an impressive amount of cleavage. She could hold a wallet and a set of keys in there, no problem.

The outfit also included a frilly white apron, a lace cap and lace wristbands. The feather duster had been Meg's idea, and the salesclerk had suggested fishnet stockings. Trudy had bought those stockings in a New York minute, along with a garter belt. She'd waited her entire adult life for a chance to wear fishnet stockings.

Her final touch was a pair of five-inch black stilettos, bad-girl shoes she'd ordered from a catalog two years ago and never worn. There wasn't much call for five-inch heels in Virtue, but maybe she should have tried them out before in private. She hadn't realized how tough it was to walk in shoes that put the entire weight of her body on the balls of her feet. But she had to stick with the shoes. This was not the occasion for sensible little pumps.

Meg had advised her about the music. Smoky jazz was perfect for a guy like Linc, Meg had said, so Trudy had saxophones and clarinets going on in the background. She didn't want to meet Linc at the door, because he'd be lugging a big box with the folding table in it and balancing a pizza besides. She'd hate for him to drop everything in the hall and make a mess.

So she'd worked out her plan. She'd already unlocked the door, but she'd left the security chain in place. That could be moved without making any noise. Once he rang the doorbell, she'd check the peephole, a habit she was trying to get into, and then she'd carefully remove the security chain. But she wouldn't open the door.

After that she'd retreat halfway across the room and call to him, telling him to come on in. She'd have time before he opened the door to scurry around her bed and behind her new folding screen. While he set up the card table and chairs she could pretend to finish dressing while she talked to him. When she figured he'd accomplished that and had his hands free, she'd appear.

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