Harriette Taylor stretches across a floral quilt in Cute Comfort, her caramel-blonde ponytail fanning out behind her as she sinks into the pillows of a cosy wrought-iron bed. A white lace vest top rides up over her flat, tanned stomach, tiny white boy shorts hug the curve of her hips, and pink-and-white striped ankle socks complete a lazy-Sunday outfit so effortless it looks borrowed from a dream. Her olive skin glows against the cottage-white brick wall, a belly-button jewel glints in the lamplight, and the smile she sends over one shoulder is wide, warm, and entirely disarming. The Union Jack cushion and the bedside lamp set the scene, but Harriette is the only thing worth looking at.

She pulls the vest higher, inch by teasing inch, until it slips over her head and lands somewhere among the cushions. Lying back on the quilt with her arms stretched above her, Harriette beams at the camera, her firm, perky breasts catching the soft light, delicate script tattoos tracing her ribcage and the inside of her wrist. The striped socks stay on, the boy shorts ride low, and the overall effect is irresistible: a gorgeous woman completely at ease in her own skin, surrounded by nothing more exotic than a pretty bedspread and an inviting pillow. Cute Comfort delivers exactly what the name promises, with Harriette as the warmest thing in the room.