True to her word, Phryne didn't linger over her change of clothes. She took precisely long enough to give Jack time to pour them drinks and--she very much hoped--get a little more comfortable himself.

Not lingering didn't mean not mean not taking care, however. A quick wash-up, a brush through her hair, a spritz of eau du toilette, and terribly important, moisturizer for her legs, since they were now bare almost to the hip. She'd considered something with more of a plunging neckline, but she fully intended to end up in a compromising position of some sort this evening (really, it was long past time), and long, bare legs afforded a temptation even Jack wouldn't try so hard to resist. Surely.

A last look in the mirror to touch up her lipstick, and then Phryne glided out of her room to join him. On impulse, she stopped and posed very briefly at the door with one leg raised and foot against her calf, flashed him a teasing smile, and then came to settle on the couch.