The Playboy In Pursuit. Miranda Lee

it was too late to change. Her intercom buzzer began ringing before she could take more than two steps back towards her bedroom.

      Lucille groaned, accepting ruefully that she would have to go to dinner as she was. Hopefully Val wouldn’t get the wrong idea about the way she looked. Not that she was all that provocatively dressed by modern standards. Val was probably used to his dates wearing a whole lot less. As long as she didn’t act provocatively, or flirtatiously, he would have no reason to get out of line.

      The dangly earrings could go, however, she decided sensibly, unhooking and tossing them on the hall table as she hurried past on her way to the intercom beside the front door. Now that she’d come to her senses she could hardly believe that her self-esteem had let her sink so low as to actually consider throwing herself at such a man.

      If she’d been able to politely get out of dinner, she would have. A bit hard, however, when he was right downstairs and she’d only spoken to him minutes before. All she could do was keep her defences in place and not let him get to her sexually a second time.

      ‘That you, Val?’ she said coolly, on flipping the switch.

      ‘The one and only. All dressed and raring to go?’

      ‘Just about.’ All she had to do was get her purse. ‘I won’t be more than a minute. You might as well wait down there.’

      ‘Fine.’

      Lucille contemplated changing her shoes, but that old rebellious streak won out and she didn’t. A mistake, possibly, she worried as she rode the lift down to the lobby. The black patent high heels gracing her feet tonight made today’s cream stilletos look sedate. Not because they were higher. That would have been impossible. But because of the amount of exposed foot. There was only one pencil-thin strap anchoring her foot to the sole and another wickedly sinful one snaking around her ankle. They were painful shoes to wear, but made her feet look gorgeous and her sleekly stockinged legs even better.