Her undies were stitched by the Sisters from the Carmelite order and were of the finest silk her father's ships carried back from China. She absolutely adored the way they caressed her fanny when she stood and walked about in full view of qualified males. Her corset was the most effective whalebone and with added muscle power from the waiting maids they soon had her less than hourglass figure fully contained.The glass slippers were a bit much but she wanted to show off her painted toenails that were done by an Italian artist with the most talented tongue who specialized in the painting of exquisite miniatures.The gown was actually her grandmother's and had been in the family for many years. It was said to carry some symbolic powers that cast a spell over any young man within sight. She personally didn't believe any of that muck but it made a good tale and the common folk seemed to eat it up like the gospel truth.The long-awaited dance ball was this very evening and she was ready to. It was the sweetest kiss they had ever shared. Sam would not object to him dropping her to the floor and taking her right there in the dining room. She wanted him to. More than she’d wanted the kiss.“Can I ask you something?” Her breathing was labored and her heart beat erratic. “Chicago and Waco. It wasn’t just stress from the job, right? You really wanted me?”“I want to marry you, Sam Dunbar.” Carefully removing a black satin pouch from his jacket pocket--a box would have been too obvious--he opened it to display a diamond engagement ring. “This isn’t a question, Sam. As your superior, I am ordering you to marry me.”Stunned and feeling every possible emotion at once, Sam stared at the ring, and then into Tim’s eyes. “We can’t! Regulations forbid marriage between agents. We’re not even allowed to have dinner together, much less have sex afterwards.” She blushed at the embarrassing admission. “One of us would have to quit, Tim.”“Or transfer out of station.”She blinked at him slowly..
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