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  With a wicked grin, she said, “I know…sir.”

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  If you enjoyed “Spanking Stacia,” please continue reading for an excerpt of “Silk Scarf Seduction,” also by Tina Parker.

  Against her better judgment, Tasha accepts a mysterious date with a stranger. They're both wearing masks, and he proceeds to seduce her with the aid of sensual silk scarves. When Tasha finds out the identity of her seducer, she turns the tables on him and puts him at her mercy.

  The dress arrived with a cryptic note. Tasha opened the door at the first knock, after the broken doorbell gave a strident peal that faded into a torturous shriek. A UPS driver, wearing a dark brown uniform, handed her a clipboard. “Delivery for T. Greenfield.”

  “That's me.”

  “Sign in the electronic box.” He indicated the laser pen attached to the clipboard, and Tasha scrawled her name.

  She took the large box from him, and he left, whistling Old Susannah off-key. Tasha brought the box in the house and closed the door behind her.

  After she set the box on the threadbare couch, Tasha searched for a pair of scissors or a box cutter. She settled for a kitchen knife and returned to the box. She carefully opened the tape. She expected to find the wallpaper and carpet samples Linden-Ashby Interiors had promised to send by mid-week. It was already Friday.

  Tasha removed the tissue paper and gasped at what lay beneath it. It was a garment of some kind, made of emerald green velvet and satin. Tasha lifted the lid of the box to verify the address.

  T. Greenfield

  624 Bluegate Rd., Rt. 2

  Jackson, Washington

  It was supposed to be her package, but she knew it couldn't actually be hers.

  Even though she was positive it was a mistake, Tasha lifted out the material. It fell to the floor with a soft whisper, as the velvet slid through her fingers. It was an elegant evening dress, reminiscent of a ball gown from more than a century ago, minus the bustle.

  The fitted bodice plunged daringly, and was trimmed with shiny satin in the same shade of green as the dress. The sleeves were tiny caps of wispy lawn, in a paler shade of green. The skirt flared out at the waist, and the hemline was piped with satin. When she turned the dress, Tasha found a discreet zipper at the back.

  Very gently, Tasha laid the dress across the worn couch and looked into the box. She hoped to find an explanation. Instead, she found a pair of emerald green kid slippers—just her size, a seven narrow—a long black cloak, and a mask. She lifted the mask from the paper to admire its beauty. It was plain green satin, with tiny seed pearls stitched at the corners of the eyes to imitate feathers. It was a half-mask, meant to cover only from her eyebrows to the bridge of her nose. Satin ribbons extended from the sides, to fasten the mask around her face.

  She gave into temptation and lifted the mask over her face before she walked to the cracked mirror in the hallway that had hung there since long before she was born. The mask brightened the hint of green in her brown eyes and minimized her blunt nose. Her mouth appeared full and lush, and the color of the mask was very complimentary with her russet curls.

  With a sigh, Tasha removed the mask and laid it beside the dress and slippers, before she delved back into the box. When she found a small cream card, at first she assumed it would have the owner's name listed. Instead, in bold, slashed letters, the note read:

  A car will arrive for you at eight this evening, and will wait exactly five minutes. If you don’t come out, or if you aren’t alone, the car will drive off. The dress and accessories are yours with my compliments, regardless of your decision, Tasha.

  There was no signature or clue as to who had sent the note. The sight of her name in the black scrawl sent a frisson of excitement darting through her. The UPS driver had not accidentally delivered this box to her. Clearly, the sender had intended she receive it.

  It was probably Kita. Her best friend was notorious for strange gifts and games of intrigue, and Tasha didn’t imagine the four hundred miles that now separated her from Portland would keep Kita from her fun. Tasha put the card and dress back in the box, then haphazardly tossed the shoes and mask atop it, before she covered it all with the cloak.

  It was a shame the dress would go to waste, but she didn’t believe in taking chances. Both times she had done so, it had cost her too dearly. First a broken heart, followed by a ruined career years later.

  She returned to the kitchen where she had been cleaning. Tasha replaced the rubber gloves she had removed in her haste to open the door and attacked the years of gunk left on the stove by her disinterested father. She had been at it less than five minutes when she impatiently ripped off the gloves and tossed them aside.

  She muttered to herself as she stomped into the living room. Tasha tripped on a hole in the carpet and barely regained her balance. She kicked the spot before she returned to the couch and gently lifted the dress, shoes, and mask from the box. With an impatient sigh, she walked up the creaking stairs and hung the dress in the closet of the room she was using.

  Whoever had bought it had obviously spent a large sum, and she didn’t want it wrinkled beyond recognition. Tasha wanted to return it in good shape, as soon as she figured out whom to return it to.

  Satisfied, Tasha left the master bedroom, which had stood unused for over a year before she moved back to the house. She returned to her chores in the kitchen, but the dress beckoned to her.

  If it was a prank by Kita, there was no harm in indulging her friend. She couldn’t think of anyone else who would do such a thing, and the thought of wearing the dress was tempting.

  Be reasonable, she chided herself. If the person who sent the dress wasn’t her friend, they could have any number of motives. It was better to be safe than sorry.

  But would she be sorry if she played it safe?

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