"I look like a little girl playing dress-up!" she murmured. "Except that little girls don't dress up to be streetwalkers!"
The clear-eyed, smooth-skinned face with its halo of naturally wavy honey-blonde hair was indeed more like that of a sixteen year old than a nineteen year old. An expression of virginal naivete lingered in her soft brown eyes and rather full lips even after a whole year of marriage, and it was quite true that her voluptuous, though svelte, figure was in striking contrast even without the apricot-hued lingerie. Cindy had been raised in a home where cosmetics, hair dye, and other sophisticated beauty aids were anathema, and since she still retained traces of guilt for breaking certain strict rules her Methodist preacher-father had enforced in his household, she'd never
