“Check my underwear drawer for a look and a sniff, no doubt.”
My eyes are blazing at him but inside I am melting away, all power seeping.
“Or I might simply slide back the wardrobe door. I imagine I would see all sorts of things to swell my pervert heart, not least pair after pair of the most fabulous stiletto-heeled shoes, all neatly placed in rows, so adored by the owner, so alluring for the viewer. I would notice the gold handbag apparently idly thrown onto them. It would seem a little out of place against the neatness of the shoes but I would think nothing more of it, distracted as I am.”
“Well, that shows how wrong you can be,” I crow back at him, glad of his mistake, “I don’t own a gold handbag, Inspector Columbo. Do I look like the kind of woman who does?”
“Then I would meet yo
