"What would you like? There's scotch, bourbon, gin, vodka, soft drinks, mineral water, sparkling water, tonic water or any combination of the above," I said as I looked in the mini bar for the first time.

We had made it back to the hotel and up to my room without too much tension. This wasn't meant to be anything more than a drink between friends. If only my nerves got that message.

Jane was looking out the windows of my suite, taken by the view of Paris.

"Whatever you are having," she said over her shoulder.

I couldn't help but look at her silhouette. The little black dress was striking on her.

I poured out two miniature bottles each of vodka and added tonic water. We may as well drink her preference given how often we drink scotch together.

Approaching her, I had the sudden desire to wrap my arms around her from behind. I shook my head and then realized she was watched my reflection in the glass. I handed her one of the glasses.

"It's truly stunning," Jane spoke.

"Yes…"

Who knew that a single word like 'yes' could be such an obvious tell? Okay, in fairness, Jane must have picked up on a tone because she turned and caught me taking in the vision of her in that dress and knew I wasn't talking about the city.

"Thank you," she blushed. "Maybe we should sit down."

I nodded and followed her to the suite's couch. We both stopped, looked at it and looked at one another before breaking into simultaneous grins.

"Yes, we are renowned for our self-control while sitting on a sofa together," I deadpanned.

I shook my head. There really had only been looks and the occasional hand holding…until Jane put her hand on my thigh that night at my loft. Regardless, we were grown women. We could have a conversation while seated on a damn sofa.

"Sit," I told her and she kicked off her shoes and did so. There was something undeniably sexy about her removing her heels and making herself comfortable—as comfortable as one can be in a little black dress. A tight little black dress.

Exchanging looks, sipping drinks and lost in our own thoughts, we didn't say anything.

"Can I ask you something? Work related, I promise," she turned to me.

"Jane, you can ask me anything and it doesn't have to be about work. You're in Paris and it's your night off."

"Why did you do it?" Jane asked. "Publish it, that is."

"It was actually something Andrew said," I began only to laugh when she nearly choked on her drink given this knowledge.

"There is no way in hell Andrew was advocating for me!"

"No," I chuckled. "Not long after I met with you in the lobby and told you no, he and I were sitting together in the lounge and he was telling me about RSVPs or the lack thereof for the party. I said the party better come off without a hitch and he said if I'm going out, I might as well go out swinging."

She nodded her understanding.

"After he left me alone, I made the decision and published."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she wondered. "Not that you had to and you were kind of busy. I found out from the Scarlet app."

"Honestly? I needed to know that I was doing it for the right reason. I was afraid if I talked to you immediately, I would have felt validation because it meant something to you and might make your life simpler. I had to know how I felt about it out in the world first."

"And? How do you feel about it?" she was clutching her glass tighter.

I leaned forward and took the glass from her to save her hands from the fate of shattered glass. After setting our glasses down on the side table, I took her hands in both of mine.

"It's an important piece that at any time in my career I would have published without hesitating. It's an important piece by an important voice. That's what matters. It is worth whatever may come," I felt her relax considerably. "And Jane? It's important to you. That isn't lost on me. I don't know if it will sway the powers that be. If it does, I hope it makes the decision you are trying to make a little bit easier."

She had tears in her eyes. Looking down at our hands and back up at me, she made her decision and moved in closer to envelope me in her petite arms. Jane's face was tucked into the crook of my neck where I felt her breath on my skin. My heart was racing before she pressed a kiss there. I was certain she could feel my pulse. My breathing was erratic before she slid a hand down my arm to tease my fingers. And then I lost all ability to think. Her hand was on my thigh. Much the same as that night when I rebuffed it.

"Jacqueline…?" she purred against my skin, pressing kisses along the entire jawline. "This has nothing to do with my article, just so we are clear."

With her mouth nearing my ear, she moved her hand a bit higher on my thigh. I felt my arousal building.

"We are clear," I stuttered.

"You said this," she squeezed my leg lightly to emphasize what she was referring to, "wasn't unwanted. Is that still the case?"

With her hand on my thigh, her breath on my ear and the lower register of her voice, I couldn't take anymore. I bunched one side of my dress in my hand and draped my leg freely over her, straddling her lap.

"Oh my god," she moaned as I settled myself against her thighs.

She adjusted our positions, moving her hands to my lower back and flattening her shoulders against the back of the couch. The look she gave me was equal parts fear and desire.

"Kiss me," I finally asked for something I had been wanting for months. And Jane more than obliged. Her fingers tangled in my stiff, slicked back hair. Her lips treated mine to torturously long kisses. I felt the fear leaving her body as viscerally as I felt control abandoning mine.

Kissing Jane Sloan was nothing like talking to the woman. She was confident and commanding. For whatever reason, she didn't doubt or second guess herself. Kissing Jane Sloan was nothing like kissing Ian or anyone else I had ever kissed. I didn't feel the need to control the pace of it any more than I felt the need to control the outcome.

My fingers were on her cheeks and her hands under my skirt on my lace-covered cheeks when the feeling of her fingernails caused me to grind my pelvis down into hers.

"Fuck…" she groaned.

Now was the moment when I, as her boss and the one of us with a spouse, had to confirm that this was okay. It didn't matter that she had been the one to make the first move, that her hands were under my dress or that she responded positively to the sensation.

"Jane…" I pulled back from the kiss. "Look at me."

She opened her eyes and I refrained from gasping when I saw the dark desire there.

"It's okay to stop now. It's okay to go no further. Whatever it is you want from here is going to be okay with me. But you have to decide. You have to be the one," I pressed a gentle kiss on her lips and continued to be taken by the look in her eyes. "If we go…further…and it isn't a one-time thing, which god knows I will take it if it is, I'll have to have someone else supervise you when we get back."

"And if I say yes to wanting it—you—now and in the future, will you stop being my editor, mentor and boss when I have my hands under your skirt?" she attempted to be coy, but her face told me how serious she was about going forward.

"Jane…" I sighed against her lips.

"Jacqueline," a hand found its way out from underneath my skirt to tilt my chin up so she could look at me. I opened my eyes and I knew her answer. "We both know we want this. We are also well aware of how messy, for a lack of a better word, each other's lives are right now. My eyes are wide open. And all I can see is you. All I ever saw was you."

Of course Jane Sloan knew the words to say.

To be continued…