Page 80 of Love In Hiding

Her mouth fell open. “Did you just make a sex joke? While you’re at work?”

“Seems that way,” he said, sounding far too pleased with himself. “Are you alone?”

“I am,” she said cautiously. “Are you? Or are you about to ask what I’m wearing under my pants?”

“No need to ask what I already know.”

Her pulse flipped. “Which means you were staring.”

A quiet second went by. “Isn’t that what you wanted when you walked into the conference room?”

Heat shot straight up her neck. Damn him.

Thiswas exactly the medicine she needed. Sexy, sharp-edged, and entirely off-limits. Proof that Spencer Jensen’s rigid exterior came with cracks she could pry her fingers into.

“Could be,” she said, letting the smile he couldn’t see slide slowly across her lips.

He exhaled softly, almost amused, and far too knowing. “Thought so.” Before she could formulate a comeback, he added, “You sounded off earlier. Was it just Noelle or something else?”

She froze. Spencer didn’t dofeelingsunless dragged out of him. Him offering one up voluntarily? That was… new.

“I was irritated,” she admitted, leaning back in her chair and kicking her heels against the floor. “Noelle got under my skin. Paris poked at me. And I’m tired.”

“Tired,” he repeated. “Or avoiding something?”

Her spine tightened. There was no way he could know she was out of sorts because they hadn’t talked in over twenty-four hours after she’d come on his hand. “I don’t avoid.”

“You absolutely avoid,” he said. “You just do it with confidence so people think it’s a strategy.”

Her mouth opened, then closed. Damn him again. “Fine. Maybe a tiny bit of avoidance. Happy?”

“No,” he said. “Not till you tell me why you texted me.”

“Because I didn’t want to be professional,” she blurted before she could think better of it. “I wanted… you. Or this. Or what I hoped this would be, but wasn’t sure you had it in you.”

Silence.

Heavy. Electric. And too dangerous.

Her heart thudded against her ribs.Too honest, London. Too much.She shouldn’t have confessed that.

“Good,” he mumbled, his voice dropping to a tone that slid right down her spine. “Because I wanted to talk, but didn’t know if you would listen to me.”

She swallowed, her hand tightening around the phone. “Spencer…”

“Relax. I’m not asking for anything else,” he said. “I just don’t like when you’re upset. Especially if I can fix it. I can handle anger, but sadness is hard to move around. And I just gave you something there.”

Her pulse tripped, because that was more intimate than anything they’d done in his condo.

She didn’t need a man to fix anything for her.

And maybe that was her problem in life. She always wanted to handle it all on her own.

But talking to him right now. She had to admit, “I’m not upset anymore. Not even irritated.”

“Good,” he murmured. “Because I’ve been thinking about Saturday. More than I should.”

Her breath caught. “You have?”