Billie smiled, but slowly drew back from Debra’s touch. “Next time,” she said, as if there was no doubt and no question atall, “we’ll take our time and find every part of you that you’ve forgotten exists.”
Debra inhaled a shaky breath, and for the first time in a long time, it didn’t hurt to breathe.
She was wanted, and she was far from done.
“Right,” Billie went on, rising to her feet with her suit immaculate and her gaze still burning, “we can go ahead and take those measurements now, or you can relax for a while in our lounge with champagne.”
Debra wasn’t sure she could concentrate on fabric and measurements right now. Champagne absolutely seemed like the right idea. After all, she should be celebrating what had happened here today. “I think champagne sounds wonderful.”
Billie offered her a single nod. “Champagne it is. I’ll direct you to our lounge once you’re feeling…a little more steady on your feet.”
Chapter Four
As Debra settledonto the couch, the evening wrapping around the city, her body still remembered the day she’d had. The dull ache in her thighs and the pulse in her neck that hadn’t quite settled. She’d showered when she’d got home, letting the water run until it turned tepid, but it still felt as though traces of Billie’s presence remained on her skin.
She glanced out of the window. London was doing what it always did—moving forward, indifferent and alive—but for once, she didn’t feel like she was watching it from a distance. She felt as though she was a part of it, even from the comfort of her new home, a glass of wine in hand and her robe cinched at her waist.
She’d tried to read, but the words had blurred into a mess the moment she’d picked up her novel. Every time she blinked, fragments of memory resurfaced. The feel of Billie’s breath against her, the way she’d spoken…never commanding, just certain.
She wasn’t sure she’d ever met anyone so composed, or so sure of their own stillness. Billie moved through the world like someone who’d made peace with every version of herself. Still, there was nothing arrogant about her.
Debra smiled to herself. Billie made a living dressing others, yet somehow, she’d stripped Debra bare in more ways than she could count.
Her phone rang, vibrating against the coffee table. Maeve’s name flashed on the screen.
Debra paused before picking up. “Hey.”
“Well?” Maeve’s voice burst through the receiver. “Did you look up the link? Have you booked in yet?”
“I…yes.”
“When? You’ll have to tell me all about it.”
Debra winced. Maeve would hit the roof when she found out the fitting had already happened. Her best friend loved a good pep talk. “My appointment…was today.”
A dramatic gasp followed. “And? Was it everything I promised and more?”
“More,” Debra said, shaking her head as her face reddened. “So much more, Maeve.”
“I knew it! I told you that woman had something special. Tell me what she’s like in person? Is she really as divine as they say?”
Debra thought about Billie standing there in that impossibly sharp suit, and the way she filled the silence without crowding it. God, she was just a striking masculine goddess. “Divine isn’t the right word. She’s…grounding more than anything. She’s excellent at what she does.”
“Well, blimey,” Maeve laughed. “If that isn’t the beginning of a midlife romance, I don’t know what is.”
“Don’t start.”
“I’m just saying,” Maeve went on, “you sound different. Lighter.Happier.”
Debra traced a finger around the rim of her glass. “I feel it.”
“Oh, Deb. I can’t remember the last time you sounded like that.”
Debra leaned back on the couch. “It’s strange. I went in for a suit, and I came out feeling like I’d reclaimed something.”
“Did she flirt with you?”
Embarrassed by the heat that settled on her cheeks, Debra sighed. “She doesn’t need to. She has this way of looking at you. Not like she’s undressing you, but like she’s…understanding you.”
