Miranda was distracted.

Nigel's latest vision had taken them to the grounds of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. It was dull, bleak even, but that was the brilliance of it; the colours would stand out. And standing out they were, beautifully. The shoot was a success, even by Miranda's high standards, but she found herself disconcerted.

"Where is Andrea?"

"She should be here any minute Miranda; she said she would meet us at the shoot."

Miranda knew that she should be more subtle about her need to have the brunette so close but Andrea was due to arrive at ten, it was five minutes to the hour, which in Miranda's book meant she was late. This was unacceptable.

She could see that Emily was puzzled. It was a strange and unlikely occurrence that The Dragon would allow any member of staff the morning off to attend a doctor's appointment; and it was stranger still that Miranda would be so desperate to have this particular member of staff back at her side. Not that she had to explain herself, Miranda Priestly did not explain, and no one would dare question her anyway.

Puzzled or not, Emily would not guess that the reason for Miranda's uneasiness was due to a not-so-recent and ever-growing attraction to the doe-eyed second assistant. It was a struggle to concentrate when Andrea was in her immediate vicinity, but it was down-right impossible when she was absent; as she was now.

The steady thrum of a fast approaching engine interrupted Miranda's thoughts.

All heads turned to witness a sleek black motorbike cruise towards the wide open bay where the models had situated their trailers, not ten yards away from the shoot itself. As the bike skidded to a halt a lithe figure gracefully slid from atop the structure, landing to one side of the machine and propping it up.

Miranda fought the urge to drop her jaw. The figure, clearly feminine, was adorned in leather from head to toe which clung to every mouth-watering curve. The jacket was extremely well fitted, highlighting the bust of the female beneath, whilst the leather pants…

No, not pants, boots. Thigh high, heeled, leather boots. Chanel, thigh high, heeled, leather boots.

'Oh, good God!'

In one swift motion the bikers helmet was removed to reveal pale skin, full lips, flowing chocolate tresses and doe-eyes. Miranda had always been aware of Andrea's beauty, but what currently had the older woman subtly squirming in her chair was her second assistant's raw sensuality, previously unnoticed. It was a much welcomed revelation.

In the time it took Miranda to gather herself, Andrea was by her side with a contagious smile.

"Good morning Miranda."

"You're late." The white haired woman inwardly cringed at the huskiness of her voice.

"Sorry, traffic."

Miranda quelled a smile and simply nodded. The brunette had quickly learned that the shorter her explanations were the more likely Miranda was to accept them without throwing a barb or two her way.

An hour later and the shoot was drawing to a close. Miranda rose and began making her way out of the warehouse grounds, assistants in tow.

"Emily, call Roy."

The red-head had already been connected.

"What on earth do you mean twenty minutes? She has a meeting with Lacroix for Christ's sake!"


"I'm so sorry Miranda but Roy is stuck in traffic. There's been an accident in the city."

The older woman refused to reply and so simply levelled a stare at the Brit before turning over her other shoulder to address Andrea, who was not there.

Miranda quickly zeroed in on the brunette standing next to her bike and changed her direction.

"Andrea, it would seem that Emily is simply too incompetent to secure timely transport. I trust that you are able to drive this contraption without injuring the occupants."

It was all the editor could do not to laugh outright at the girl's wide-eyed expression.

"You want me to drive you back to Elias-Clarke?"

"You have a better idea?"

Andrea seemed to consider and then settle.

"Alright, but if you get on this bike you are wearing both the jacket and the helmet."

The fashion maven raised an eyebrow. Andrea smirked.

"Those are the conditions, take it or leave it Priestly."

'Cheeky girl.'

As Miranda straddled the bike and wrapped her arms around Andrea's waist she felt a vibration settle deep between her thighs long before the brunette started the engine. Watching the wind whip through chocolate strands she decided that a different type of straddling would have to take place sooner rather than later, and that Andrea would still be wearing the Chanel boots.