Page 12 of One Hot Moment

Her sultry voice turns me on and sends all the blood rushing to my groin.

I need to shag her immediately.

Chapter Six

Tabitha

Spencer is the cutest. I know he's being serious and that he honestly prefers the traditional ways. But I can't help laughing---with affection, not as an insult. "You're kind of old-fashioned, aren't you? Most of the higher ups prefer to email information to their assistants."

"How is that easier? My assistant is right outside my office door. It's faster to pick up the phone. You might not receive my email right away."

"Yeah, I know. And honestly, I'm on your side in that debate." I wedge my desk phone on my shoulder, holding it in place with my head, and shuffle through the papers on my desk until I find what I need. On the other end of the line, I hear Spencer clucking his tongue softly in a clocklike rhythm. I grab a pen. "Okay, I've got my notepad. Tell me the names and why you'd like to speak to them. Then I will contact each team member."

"By phone? Or email?"

I can't stop myself from laughing again. "Actually, I will text most of them. It's the preferred method for a lot of the employees."

"I see. Blimey, I feel a thousand years old all of a sudden. Here are the names.." He rattles them off. "Have you got them?"

"Yes, boss, I have the names."

When he speaks again, I can hear the humor in his voice. "Your tone tells me you think I probably am a thousand years old. I prefer telephones to texting, and notepads to tablet computers. Does that make me antediluvian?"

If he could see me smiling, he'd realize just how much I like his outdated customs. To meet a man who doesn't have his nose glued to his cell phone... That's like hitting the jackpot at a casino.

"Maybe I should donate myself to a museum," Spencer says. "Watch the world's most out of touch man avoid technology for no good reason. Tickets are five pounds each."

I cluck my tongue. "Five dollars. You're in America, Spencer."

"Of course. How much is five pounds in American dollars?"

"Not sure." I'm about to do something naughty, just to tease my boss. As I rise from my chair and head for the office door, I wonder how quickly the security guards can get up to this floor to drag me out of the building. I'm sure to get fired. But I'm doing this anyway.

I knock on Spencer's door.

"Come in, Tabitha."

As I sashay up to his desk, I hold out a sticky note that's stuck to my index finger. "Thought you might want to receive your list of appointments the old-fashioned way."

Spencer cautiously accepts the sticky note and reads it. "This contains a list of the names and appointment times for the employees with whom I wanted to consult." He lifts his gaze to me. "You're a cheeky chit, aren't you?"

"If that means what I think it means, then yes. I'm a proud cheeky chit."

"That means you're a sarcastic woman." He rakes his gaze over me while licking his lips. "Fortunately, I've realized today that I like that in a woman."

"You can feel free to tease me too. I'm not uptight."

"I'm well aware of that fact." He smooths the note out, so it's glued to his desktop. "Next time I give you a list of names, could you bring them to me on a stone tablet?"

"Oh, sure. I'll drop by the stone quarry on my way home. Do you prefer eight-and-a-half by eleven size?"

"Is that inches or centimeters?"

I cock my hip and set one hand on it, then roll my eyes. "Inches, of course. This is America, where we know the metric system is only for stuck-up scientists."

Spencer smirks. "Do you treat all your executives this way?"

"Only the ones who can handle it." I set my bottom on the edge of his desk. "But you know I'm joking. I've never actually behaved this way with any of the other people who've had this office over the years. The company has a high turnover rate, especially with chief risk analysts."

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