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She moves with a grace that most women, even those double or triple her age, never possess. She's sensual, composed, and within the focused glare of her stormy blue eyes is clear determination.

"What are you wearing under your dress?" She stops mere inches behind Cicely, her hands darting to her hips.

I move closer, intrigued by the challenge in her tone. Cicely whips around on her heel, her arms jumping to cross over her chest. She's at least four inches taller than Isla but their body language leaves little doubt about who is the prey. "Why would you ask me something like that? It's none of your business."

I'm standing next to them now, soaking in the view of them both. Isla is self-assured and calm, raking her eyes over Cicely's plain frame. Her lips part slightly before she tilts her head to the left, eyeing her manager's strappy heels. "You're not wearing Liore lingerie, are you?"

Cicely's hands impulsively jump to the waist of her dress, tugging on the thin brown leather belt. "You're out of line, Isla. My

underwear isn't relevant."

"Is it Liore or not?" Isla moves her foot slightly, which reveals a glimpse of her toned, tanned leg.

"I'm not answering that." Cicely's gaze falls to the floor. "I don't have to answer that."

"You just answered it," Isla says softly before she moves to walk around Cicely. "I knew it when I first met you."

"Knew what? You don't know anything about me."

"You're wrong." Isla picks up one of the garter slips, holding it in the air between them. "I know that you buy your panties at a department store. I'd guess they're white cotton. You get them in a package of three or four and while you're there you take a bra off the rack without trying it on. You're a 32B, aren't you?"

Cicely's hand grazes across her chest. "Yes, but…"

"How can you judge these if you've never worn one?" Isla holds the slip in front of her. "The lace is brittle and rough. It's going to scratch."

I tuck my hands into the front pockets of my pants, intrigued by the exchange taking place right in front of me. I know I should step in and save Cicely from the lesson in lingerie but I'm too immersed in watching Isla to interfere.

"The fasteners are awkward and hard to reach." Isla flips the garment over. "You'd have to ask someone to help you put it on. That defeats the purpose."

"What purpose?" Cicely asks with what sounds like innocent ease.

Isla dips her chin as a sly smile flows over her lips. "A lot of our customer base comes in to the boutique to buy something for a special occasion."

Cicely shrugs her shoulder. "I don't get it."

"When I put on something like this," Isla begins as holds the garter slip against the front of her dress. "The last time I put on something like this, I did it myself so the first time my boyfriend saw it was at the end of our date, at the exact moment I wanted him to."

Boyfriend.

The word catches my breath in my throat as a tight knot forms in my gut. Naturally she'd have a boyfriend. Any man with a brain in his head would claim her for his own the first chance he had. It's more than likely some college kid with a perpetual hard-on, who doesn't give a shit about anything other than blowing his own load. Whoever he is, I doubt like hell he is giving her everything she needs or wants. If he was, she wouldn't have offered to come to my office this afternoon.

Jesus. What am I doing to myself? She works for me. She has a fucking boyfriend.

"You know that you're entitled to three hundred dollars of free lingerie a month, right?" Isla pushes the slip into Cicely's hands. "You should be wearing the products if you're selling them."

"We're not allowed to just take merchandise off the shelf." Cicely sighs. "Isla have you been taking things? Are you wearing Liore lingerie now?"

"I'm wearing a push up bra. It's that one from the Charming collection, in nude lace, and I have on the matching V-string panty."

I turn in an effort to hide my body's response to that. I feel a rush of heat race through me when my pulse quickens. My cock is aching, literally aching, inside the restraint of my pants.

I've headed this division for months now. I've seen some of the world's most beautiful women in the lingerie brand that I helped launch and yet, I've never had a reaction like this. It's visceral, intense and wholly unwelcome in this moment.

"It's in the employee handbook," Isla says quietly. "I asked Wallis when I started at the boutique and she showed me the paperwork that I have to fill out each month."

It's just another reason why I asked Wallis Clarkson to take the reins at the boutique. I'd brought her up from another division to oversee the opening of the store. She was insistent that Cicely was perfect for the manager position. It's why she stepped in as a consultant temporarily. Cicely's strength is in keeping the store organized, beyond that I'm seriously beginning to doubt how much value she's bringing.

"She's correct, Cicely," I interrupt, needing this meeting to end soon. In fact, now would not be fast enough. "Part of your benefit package is free merchandise. You should be taking advantage of that."


Tags: Deborah Bladon The Fosters of New York Romance