Trust Me

all of his powers of logic and rational thinking to the problem of obtaining one. But somehow, something always went wrong.
    Desdemona had been right when she had guessed that she would be an experiment for him. She definitely did not fit his profile of a suitable wife. But he wanted her with a sense of deep, restless urgency that was startlingly new and excruciatingly intense.
    Stark promised himself that he would not go into the relationship with the notion of making it permanent. That way lay disaster. For once in his life, he would allow the whims of fortune and fate to carry him where they wished.
    It was a disturbing but strangely exciting thought.
    Stark gazed at the glowing screen, aware that his whole body was already stirring in anticipation of Thursday night.
    It occurred to him that his rationalization of an affair with Desdemona might simply be the by-product of another extended period of celibacy. The truth was, it had been a long time since he had gotten laid.
    Pamela had been too busy for sex for at least two months before the wedding date. And things hadn’t been what one would call lively between them before that.
    Looking back on the string of excuses he’d heard during those last weeks before the wedding, Stark glumly acknowledged that he should have had a clue that something was amiss. But, as usual, he hadn’t figured out that something had gone wrong in the relationship until he had found himself standing alone at the altar.

    Thursday morning Desdemona was hunched over her computer when Henry and Kirsten swept through the doorway of her office.
    “Be with you in a second.” Desdemona nibbled anxiously on her lower lip as she hit the enter key to store the latest version of a luncheon menu featuring spinach and feta cheese in phyllo pastry. “Oh, damn.”
    “What’s wrong?” Kirsten asked.
    “I think I just lost the earlier version of this menu. I wanted to save it, too, in case I change my mind.” Desdemona glared at the screen. “I wish Tony were here. He’s the only one who actually understands this stupid machine.”
    “Forget the computer,” Kirsten said cheerfully. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
    Desdemona’s attention was still on the menu. She was not overly fond of computers. The only reason she had one in her office was because Tony had talked her into it. Tony was fascinated by high-tech hardware. Whenever he was around, he was forever fiddling with her software. “My birthday isn’t until next week.”
    “This isn’t a birthday present,” Henry informed her grandly. “It’s a thank-you gift.”
    Desdemona glanced up from her work and saw that Kirsten held a large box in her arms.
    Kirsten and Henry were both grinning from ear to ear. That was nothing new. They had been wearing similar expressions since Desdemona had agreed to cosign the loan papers for Exotica Erotica two weeks earlier.
    “A gift? For me?” Distracted at last, Desdemona studied the box with interest. “That was very thoughtful of you. But you really shouldn’t have. You ought to be putting all of your money into Exotica Erotica.”
    “This stuff didn’t cost much,” Kirsten assured her.
    “Free samples, for the most part,” Henry explained as he opened the box.
    “Free samples of what?” Desdemona asked.
    “The products I’m going to stock in Exotica Erotica.” Kirsten reached into the box and lifted out a black leather garter belt trimmed with steel studs. “There’s a matching brassiere in here somewhere. Also a darling mask and a red and black harness.”
    Desdemona stared at the garter belt. “Oh, dear.”
    “Two different sizes of battery-powered personal vibrators.” Henry produced the small, anatomically correct implements with a flourish. “And a selection of massage balms and oils.”
    Desdemona felt herself turn very pink. “I don’t know what to say.”
    “I threw in some feathers, some little velvet whips, and one of these things.” Kirsten held up a device that consisted of two small balls linked by a string. A tag dangled from it. “Instructions are attached, as you can see. There’s also a supply of condoms in assorted colors and some strawberry-flavored lubricant in here somewhere.”
    Desdemona was speechless. She gazed helplessly at the items in the box. “Uh…”
    “Don’t say a word,” Kirsten said warmly. “I want you to have these things.”
    Desdemona cleared her throat and finally found her voice. “Won’t you need this stuff as