As Circe stood there with the white linen outlining her soft curves, Ragnar felt a tightening in his breeches. With the way the outline of her breasts were visible through her shift, he was grateful, in that moment, that he had instructed the footman to remain outside the shop.
He had seen her countless times before, more intimately than this, and yet the sight of her never failed to stir something fierce and possessive within him. The awareness of her sent warmth coursing through his veins.
It was inconvenient, considering they were not alone.
His jaw flexed slightly as the seamstress stepped forward with her measuring tools. For a fleeting, reckless second, Ragnar contemplated asking the woman to wait outside her shop as well.
When the measurements were complete, arrangements were made. Ragnar assured the seamstress that a servant would collect the finished gowns.
