Mark smiled and moved to a chair exactly adjacent to where Christina was sitting. “Now it’s your turn,” he said. “I’ve shown you mine. You show me yours.” Christina bit her lip. He was right. For men, it often seemed like their appeal was

based on their purchasing power instead of themselves. She couldn’t blame him for being a little nervous when she was the type of girl to sell herself for a hundred dollars an hour, which made her too expensive for his blood.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a mirror, which she propped on the coffee table between them and tilted toward her face. Then...