In the gaslit atelier on Rue de la Paix, Winnifred Ainsworth stands rigid under Valerie Trevelyan's commanding gaze, the corset lacing her curves a barrier she secretly wishes the rival would tear away. Each measurement session draws their hands nearer, the brush of fingers against fabric igniting the demure designer's hidden hunger for yielding to another woman's control.

Valerie's lithe form and sharp demeanor hide a fear of exposure, yet she presses closer under the deadline's weight, using seduction to draw Winnifred into surrender while guarding her own heart. The scandal of their sapphic affair looms if their touches cross the line in the workroom filled with pinned silk.

Winnifred has stopped counting the laces she lets Valerie take, and discovery in that workroom would ruin them both. Valerie has already set the hour for the next measurement.