Over the next few days, I tried to inconspicuously appraise Andrea, my eyes raking her body every chance they got. My mind became obsessed with the idea of a bulge in Andrea's pants and its possible origin. However much I tried to not draw any untoward conclusions before I had some real information, my mind kept coming back to one conclusion which it seemed to find particularly intriguing.

Unfortunately for me, Andrea insisted on wearing only skirts and dresses those days, covering perfectly though nicely what I wanted to have a look at. My frustration grew exponentially as time went by.

"Andrea," I called her.

"Yes, Miranda?" our little spiel went.

"You are to come with to Donna Morgan in twenty minutes, see that you change into that Armani you have been wearing the other day. That's all." I told her. There was only so much a woman could take, wasn't there?

Andrea nodded and turned to leave my office.

Her eyes blew wide as she saw me after having changed her clothes.

"Miranda," she stammered. I quirked my eyebrow.

"Yes, Andrea?" I reversed our roles. "Anything you need?"

Andrea kept staring at me with, if I was not mistaken, a blush rising on her cheeks. Lovely.

"Come on, we don't have all day, coat, bag." I ordered to bring her out of her trance.

"Yes, Miranda," she accepted her role back. Cheeky girl.

You may have guessed already, but I had also changed while Andrea was gone. Out of my conservative choice of the day into a rather daring little number which would go over well with Donna and maybe inspire her to a more daring new collection. One can always hope! New designers…

I made Andrea ride the elevator with me that day, no need to let her off the hook and miss the information I was seeking.

"Raise the privacy screen," I told Roy as soon as we stepped foot into the car. I needed to be able to watch Andrea's reactions without distraction and most definitely without a witness to my actions.

I turned to face her. "Tell me," I began, "what do you appreciate about the suit you are wearing?" I let my gaze travel her body up and down, lingering maybe a moment longer on the area I was so curious about.

She cleared her throat. "Wha," she stammered, "what do you mean?" Interesting, usually my presence no longer intimidated Andrea. Her stammering, fidgeting and babbling had stopped long ago.

"I would like to know what made you choose this piece last week over the other suits we have in the closet." I knew my question was unfair, what was Andrea to say? But I wanted to make the girl squirm and anything was fair game to reach my goal. I tried to connect our eyes but she kept looking away. I leaned over to her.

"Was it the tissue?" As I asked, I ran my fingers along her lapel, "the cut perhaps? Or the color?" my fingers trailed the lapel down to the first button. I intended to help the girl out with my questions, I did not want to torture Andrea, after all, I only wanted information. Particular information, special information.

She turned to face me as well and this time I could tell she blushed. Me leaning over must have pulled my shirt even lower, showing my generous cleavage and probably more. Low blow Priestly, low blow.

The poor woman's eyes never left my breasts. "Y.., yes, all of that," she told them. It was her turn to lick her lips.

Heat suffused me. Whatever this was between us was not one-sided it appeared. I swallowed.

"Andrea," my voice sounded breathy even to me.

She lifted her head to look me in the eyes and the moment our gazes met, we were done for. I reached for her while I think she reached for me, our lips met forcefully in a passionate, searing kiss. I knew it was unprofessional to kiss my employee but, sue me, I am only human. This gentle, intelligent woman intrigued me so much for such a long time and our recent flirting had added to my feelings for her.

Only one word adequately described her lips on mine: divine. We both let our hands roam over the other's body, touching as much as we could with clothes on. Unable to help myself, I moaned into our kiss. I needed more and tried to open my mouth to her. She immediately understood, her tongue meeting mine and I tasted her for the first time. Please don't ask me what she tasted like that day, I can't tell you. My senses were on overload, taste, touch and smell, she smelled wonderful! I wanted her to kiss me for the rest of that day and wanted nothing more than to do the same to her.

Unfortunately, a persistent knock on the divider roused us from our frenzy. We had arrived. Suffice to say, I gave Donna Morgan more infinitesimal smiles for her collection during the showing than any other upcoming designer in a long, long time. Such was my distraction...

Afterwards, as we were back in the car, I faced Andrea and pulled her towards me. I placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "We need to talk," I told her. "We have to address this, whatever this is." I waved between us.

She nodded, her eyes riveted on my mouth. I let a smile play on my lips. "This what you want?" I teased her.

"Oh yes," she nodded. I let her kiss me again but pulled away before we could get in too deep.

"Good," was all I answered.

"What's next?" she asked me.

"I am not sure, it's not like I planned any of this."

"Liar." she said.

My eyes widened, "Excuse me?" I spat. Even after sharing kisses, how dare she respect me so little?

"Liar," she repeated. Before I could even catch a breath to rip her a new one, she put her finger over my lips. "Hear me out."

Reluctantly, I nodded.

"I believe, I have supporting evidence that you set this up. Maybe not consciously, but none-the-same." Her doe eyes fixed me. "Evidence one: the screen is up, which it never is. Evidence two: without reason, you made me change into something you liked to see me in. No, no, I'm not done, keep hearing me out," she said as I was about to interrupt in my defense. "Evidence three: you also changed into this sexy little number before we left, like you wanted to give me something I like to see you in. Am I about right?" She looked me straight in the eyes.

My heart thundered in my chest. I told you she was intelligent, didn't I? How was I to answer her little prosecutor speech?

"Am I right?" she reached her hand out to lace her fingers with mine. "You set this up." Heat spread over me and I felt my cheeks redden. I nodded, what else could I do? Guilty as charged, your honor.

"Good," she said. "Let me ask again: what would you like to happen now?" Her fingers played with mine.

How much was I willing to tell her? Reveal of myself? How much did I trust her?

A few minutes passed by while I was thinking, Andrea patiently playing with my fingers, giving me time. I was the one who asked her to talk, and yet, I was the one sitting next to her mute.

"I am married," I ended up blurting out.

"As I am well aware," she answered. "Hence the question."

I took a deep breath. "I like kissing you and I would like it if we could kiss again."

"Absolutely," Andrea nodded and moved in.

Our lips met in a soft, rather exploratory kiss, causing my heart to hammer away in my chest. This woman made me feel alive in a way I had not felt in a very, very long time.