But now, Remy wanted to see what she’d created behind the double doors, and she was anxious to share her professional and personal aspirations with a man who already seemed to appreciate her business acumen and ingenuity.
She exhaled a deep breath, because this was the first man she’d ever allowed to see beyond these doors, except for her brothers, of course. And for some reason she couldn’t explain, his reaction, his approval mattered to her . . . and maybe she was hoping for something more, too. Because if he looked beyond the business concept, everything in this room also revealed the heart of who she was as a woman. Her sensuality. Her intimate thoughts. Her desire to please a man who would finally set free all the indecent fantasies and darker needs she kept locked away, because so far in her dating experience, no one had been worthy of that passionate side to her sexuality.
Remy might be the picture of a perfect gentleman as he followed her throughout her apartment, but over the years, she’d seen just enough of an underlying edge to him to make her suspect that he’d be able to satisfy those carnal hungers—if she could only get him to acknowledge and act upon their mutual attraction. Time to find out.
She placed her hand on the door but didn’t open it yet. Instead, she glanced back at Remy a bit nervously, though she kept her voice light and flirty. “So, this is where all the magic happens.”
The corner of his mouth quirked with a smile, giving her one of those rare glimpses of a playful Remy. “What kind of magic?”
The sexy rumble in his voice, intended or not, seemed to vibrate through her entire body, and she wasn’t surprised when her nipples furled tight against the silk material of her dress. “All the creativity for Wilder Passion.”
“Let me see,” he murmured, his interest clear in his eyes.
She slid the heavy panel open and walked inside the immense workspace, hearing Remy’s footsteps behind her on the hardwood floor. She took it all in, as she knew Remy was currently doing as he came to a stop beside her. In the far back of the room was an entire sewing area, with a cutting table, an ironing board to press fabric, drawers and cabinets for tools and supplies, and a few different sewing machines.
In this main area, she’d put in a long drafting table that was covered with her latest sketched designs in various stages of creation, along with other ideas that were pinned on the wall for future reference. There were even a few pairs of panties laid out on the surface, which she’d used for inspiration. On the opposite side were rows upon rows of bolts of fabric filling the many shelves Remy had built for her. All her fine silks, satins, and lace in dark, jewel-toned colors, and a few pastels mixed in for variety, all easily accessible while she was creating her pieces of lingerie.
“So, how does this whole subscription box process work?” he asked curiously.
“I design the lingerie, make the prototypes, then send it to a reputable manufacturer I have a contract with to make the pieces, which then go to a warehouse where I have employees who pack up the subscription boxes according to a person’s order.”
She followed his fascinated gaze to the three life-size female mannequins positioned side by side a few feet from where she and Remy were standing, each one wearing varying levels of intimate apparel that would eventually go into a future Wilder Passion subscription box.
She walked up to the first mannequin, which was wearing a dark purple full-coverage lace bra with a tiny embroidered butterfly between the two cups, and matching bikini panties. “So, every month there are three different lingerie sets to choose from, labeled as either sweet, sexy, or seductive,” she said, explaining her process. “The subscriber can pick one, or all three, depending on their taste and what they like to wear. This first bra and panty set is from the sweet collection, because it pretty much covers all the essentials but still makes a woman feel feminine and beautiful, which is the most important thing.”
“Very nice,” he said, the sound of his voice a bit rough.
He shifted on his feet and slid his hands into the front pockets of his pants, and Tempest wondered if talking about lingerie and female bodies was making him envision her in these creations. Oh, she hoped so. She moved on to the second mannequin, dressed in a red baby-doll nightie, with thin straps holding up the lace cups and a flowing, flirty hemline that barely covered the thong panties beneath.
“Then, we have the sexy collection,” she continued, determined to ruffle his feathers a bit, just to see if this man’s composure would crack under pressure. “These designs are meant to tempt and tease a lover.”
He cleared his throat. “Definitely sexy,” he agreed.
She bit back a smile and stood next to the last mannequin, smoothing her hand along the one-piece, all black, see-through lace teddy that molded to a woman’s curves and left very little to the imagination. “And here we have the seductive piece, which is always the most risqué lingerie for the month, for those women who like to be daring and feel confident in their sexuality. This one is designed so that a woman can wear it beneath her clothing to seduce her man when the time is right. It even has little snaps at the crotch for easy access. It’s currently one of my favorite pieces to wear beneath one of my business suits.”
He groaned, sounding like a dying man. “You’re deliberately trying to make me sweat, aren’t you?”
She laughed and sauntered over to the drafting table, the skirt of her gown swirling around her legs. “Maybe,” she admitted, and picked up a black satin G-string she’d recently sewn as a prototype and held it up for him to see. “I just designed and made this pair of panties. What do you think of them?”
His gaze dropped to the black fabric stretched between her hands, at the little triangle of material that would barely cover a woman’s mound, and all the many thin straps that crisscrossed over and around her hips yet left her ass completely bare.
He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “I can’t imagine that they’d cover much.”
She rolled her eyes playfully at him. “That’s the point, Remy.”
He shook his head, a confused frown furrowing his brow. “There are so many strappy things attached to that G-string. How does it even go on?”
“Would you like me to show you?” she asked, deliberately keeping her tone casual and oh so innocent.
His eyes darkened, and his jaw clenched, as if he’d just envisioned her in those skimpy panties. “Jesus Christ, Tempest. No.” His tone was brusque. Painfully so.
“I meant on the mannequin, Remy,” she said with a laugh, though she found his reaction enlightening and encouraging.
He swore beneath his breath and narrowed his gaze. “You are such a goddamn tease,” he said, his tone more exasperated than angry. “I never know what to expect from you.”
She liked keeping him on his toes and getting under his skin. “Keeps things interesting, don’t you think?”
He didn’t answer her and instead exhaled a harsh breath and changed the subject completely. “You said