Page 32 of One Hot Moment

"Oh, Spence, you always make me smile." I finger the pendant. "If I'm the tabby, that means you're the black cat. But your hair is brown."

He slings his arms around my waist to tug me closer. "I prefer to think of that cat as dark brown."

"I don't care what color it is. I love my surprise."

"We should probably get to work. It's after eight o'clock."

"One thing first." I straddle his lap, which makes my dress ride up, and wrap myself around him. He slings his arms around me too, and a second later, our lips collide. Our tongues tangle. If we don't stop soon, we'll wind up screwing on his desk again, so I peel my lips away from his. "Mm, I love kissing you, Spence. But it's time to get to work, like you said."

I slide off his lap and tug my dress down.

Spencer watches while I sashay out of his office.

As I shut the door, I blow him a kiss.

Maybe we are acting like teenagers, but I don't care. We both spend all day doing serious work, so we deserve a little silly downtime now and then. And I honestly do love my necklace. It's cheap, tacky, and adorable. But best of all, Spencer gave it to me.

Half an hour later, Spencer emerges from his office and stops at my desk. "It's time to make a trip to the human resources office."

"Are you firing me already?"

"No, love. We need to declare our personal relationship in a formal document."

"Oh. I forgot all about that."

We head down to the fifth floor and sign our declarations. It feels almost like we've gotten married, or at least engaged. But it's nothing as romantic as that. Afterward, we go back to work as usual.

The rest of the week flashes by like a tornado. I don't have much time to think about what Spencer's charming and sweet gift might mean for our relationship. We're swamped with attending meetings and making preparations for meetings. I swear most of any company's business involves talking about the business.

On Friday afternoon at five o'clock sharp, Spencer emerges from his office. "Tabitha, it's time to go home."

"I know. I was just about to shut down my computer."

He comes around behind my desk, resting his hip on the corner. "Tonight, I need to make love to you."

"Oh." Every hair on my body just snapped to attention, and my skin feels sensitized, as if the barest touch might set me off. And it's all because a sexy British man told me he wants to make love to me. "Will there be dinner first? Or is this wham, bam, see you on Monday?"

He leans toward me and cups my face in one hand. "I said I need to make love to you. That means it will be slow, sensual, and the prelude to a weekend of eating and shagging."

That sounds incredible. Of course I want to spend the weekend with him. But my mouth seems to have gotten glued shut. I can't manage to speak the words "please take me home with you right this minute."

He brushes his lips over mine. "Just nod your head if you want to come with me to my apartment."

I nod.

Spencer snatches up my raincoat, stands up, and holds the coat open while I rise and slide my arms into the sleeves. There had been a chance of rain all day, but we only got sprinkles now and then. Tonight, thunderstorms are expected. That kind of weather always turns me on. Maybe it's the vibrations from the thunder. I'm hardly an expert on weather.

I finally notice that Spencer had propped an umbrella up on the other side of my desk before he walked around to my side. He thinks of everything.

All the way down to the parking level, I can't stop thinking about what slow, sensual sex with Spencer might be like. He's playful, I know that. He can be commanding too. He's always respectful and opens doors for every woman he meets. But with me, he's become protective. The umbrella he brought and the way he helped me get my raincoat on attest to that instinct.

Spencer opens the car door for me and offers me his hand as I climb into the backseat. Then he sits down beside me, draping one arm across the seat behind me.

"Where are we going tonight, Spencer?" Duane asks.

"Call me Spence. Tabitha and I are going to my apartment." He looks at me. "Or would you rather we go to your place?"

"I'm sure your apartment is much bigger and nicer. Let's go there."

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