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just because her mother thought they were appropriate. It didn’t matter what they had to offer. They’d never hold a candle to Nicolai.
    “Where ya headed?” the cabbie drawled.
    Her heart began to pound inside her chest. “I need to go to Brookline, and then I want you to take me to a place called Jack’s in Back Bay.”
    * * * *
    Desiree locked her door and flopped down onto her bed. She needed to find the perfect ensemble to wear to Jack’s, but first she had to get out of her uncomfortable evening clothes. She kicked off her heels and listened to them thump on the plush carpet. The sound was reminiscent of her impromptu date with Harmon Wilhelm. It’d been mercifully short, but there’d been a lot of that “other shoe-dropping” going on.
    Rolling to her back, she stared at the textured ceiling. He wasn’t an awful guy. He was nice. He was a perfect gentleman. He was smart. He had plenty of money. He was also as boring as the day was long. The man had the emotional range of a turnip.
    Jumping up, she stripped out of her skirt and top, leaving them and her stockings wadded up on the floor. She stalked into the closet and pushed aside a rack of cocktail dresses she never wore. Hiding in the very back was a selection of clothing she’d purchased after Chelsea had invited her to the upscale sex club she’d visited the night before. While the club had been a total disappointment, there was no need to let all that clothing go to waste.
    She pulled out a dress that pushed most of her comfort zones to the max. The white knit one-shoulder dress draped low on top, barely hiding her trusty strapless bra. The skirt was short and tight. Checking her reflection in the full-length mirror, Desiree made a mental note not to bend over for anything. Not only would she show her ass to whoever happened to be behind her, but her boobs would tumble right out of the top.
    Next came the necessary cosmetics. She didn’t believe for one second that Nicolai preferred a woman with plenty of makeup, but her heavy-lidded eyes and red lips went with the overall image she was trying to project. She twirled her hair into a messy knot and secured it with a rhinestone clip that matched the shoulder strap of her dress. If he thought she was a one-night-stand kind of girl, she’d call his bluff and masquerade as just that.
    Clutching her tiny purse in one hand and her stilettos in the other, she quietly opened her bedroom door. Entering the house a half hour ago had been no big deal. It was a little like prison that way. She could only hope the cabdriver was still waiting like she’d asked him to.
    The wide hallway was utterly silent. Tiptoeing to the top of the stairs, Desiree held her breath. If her mother happened to be downstairs, her plans would come to dust. Nothing short of Armageddon would save her from the lecture this outfit would bring about.
    The foyer was dark and still. Even the housekeeping staff had retired for the night. She felt like a teenager sneaking out, which was ridiculous. She was thirty-six years old. Of course, it was also ridiculous for a thirty-six-year-old woman to live at home so she could keep tabs on her mother and grown sister. Sometimes life made no sense.
    The marble floor was cool beneath her bare feet. The double doors studded with etched glass loomed ahead. Sliding the dead bolt, she tried to control the hammering of her heart. The door opened without a creak, thanks to diligent oiling. Stepping onto the front porch, she almost danced with glee as she pulled the door closed behind her.
    The sudden shriek of the alarm system set her teeth on edge. Of all the things to forget, she’d walked right past the keypad without entering the code.
    “Fuck me.”
    Desperation hit Desiree hard, and she bolted. Running for all she was worth, she dashed between the colonnades and onto the front lawn. By the time she covered the short distance to the street, she was laughing. Silly did not even cover this behavior.