“So,” she said with a coy smile. “What can I do for you? That”—she pointed at the bill on the table—“will get you started, but you won’t go far.”

“Let’s see how far we can go,” he said. “Why don’t you start by stripping?”

She lifted an eyebrow, as if she found his request fascinating when really, wasn’t it the normal routine?

“All right,” she said, “but I don’t like to party alone.” Bending over, offering him more than a little glimpse of her cleavage, she slid off one red heel, then slowly, the other. If he wanted a striptease, she was going to make it worth his while. She probably should leave the shoes on—guys liked her in nothing but garters and stockings and mile-high heels—but she wasn’t going to make the mistake of wobbling while she undressed like she did last week when she fell. That john had laughed at her discomfiture, damn him. As for nylons and garters, she wasn’t into that unless a client specifically requested an outfit; then, of course, she’d accommodate him. And charge accordingly.

This one hadn’t asked for anything. Just an appointment.

She kicked off the heels and suddenly lost four inches so that now she was a good foot shorter than he. To be expected. Looking up at him, she noticed that he wasn’t just fit, but muscular as well. Strong. His black shirt, buttoned to his neck, seemed off somehow. Something odd about it. But it didn’t really matter.

Watching him, she slid out of the sheer blouse, let it fall to the floor, and then slowly wiggled out of the tiny skirt.

Was he getting off?

She couldn’t tell.

No bulge appeared in his black jeans, but whatever. He wasn’t complaining.

“Want to help?” she asked, fingering her bra.

“You do it.”

“Whatever you want.” She tamped down her boredom and tried to sound breathless, as if she were turning herself on. Though it was all an act, a routine she’d gone through a thousand times. “Why don’t you take off some of your clothes?”

One side of his mouth lifted. “Why don’t you help me?” he said.

That was more like it.

She looked up at him and offered a sexy smile along with what she hoped was a sparkle of excitement in her eyes. “Sure, baby,” she said, and sauntered closer to him. “Let’s start with these.” Reaching up, she tried to remove his glasses, but he caught her hand.

“They stay.” Firm. Almost angry. He jerked his head back.

“Sure . . . sure. Whatever you say.”