Sway With Me(22)

He didn’t see what was so funny about dirty little creatures with beady eyes that carried diseases like the plague. “Mice. Rats. Whatever you want to call them. They all disgust me.” His toes curled as the creepy-crawly sensation of something furry tickled up and down his legs.

The moon cast a glow on Portia’s creamy skin and ebony hair falling softly down her breasts as she gazed at his chest. He glanced down at his shirtless torso then back at her face. “I know you didn’t want to share a bed, but I can’t sleep on the floor with Mickey on the loose. And I know it’s not masculine of me to cower in fear, but it’s a phobia, and I have no desire to try aversion therapy or hypnosis because frankly, I think my fear of the buggers is rational, so if you want to laugh, laugh, but I’ll tell you I have jumped out of planes, climbed mountains, skied down mountains, scuba-dived with sharks—”



A soft, warm hand settled on his shoulder. “Breathe, Ryan.” She inhaled and exhaled loudly. “Like this. Match my breaths.”

He stared at her chest and harmonized his respirations. The scratching and scurrying noises disappeared, so the only sound in the room was of them breathing as one. Her scent wrapped around him and he was suddenly tempted to bury his nose in her hair. His pulse slowed and his toes uncurled.

She gave his shoulder a light squeeze and rubbed it. “Better?”

Well, after that anxiety attack, he’d just killed any shot he’d had of having sex with her. She wouldn’t see him as a threat anymore if they shared a bed. Meanwhile, he wanted her more and more, every moment spent in her presence. He rested his hand on hers. “Yes. Thank you.”

She smiled, lifted her hand from his shoulder, and smoothed out the blanket in front of her. “You can take the bed.”



“I can’t ask you to sleep on the flo—” A hand suddenly covered his mouth and he fought the urge to lick it.

“I’m not sleeping on the floor. You’re right. We’re both adults. I think we can control ourselves for one evening. I’ll stay under these covers and you can sleep on top with the duvet. At this point, I’m too tired to care about the impropriety.” She yawned. “Not that we’re living in Victorian England anyway. I mean, my old roommates said people of the opposite sex platonically share beds all the time in college. I didn’t go to college, so I’ll take their word for it.”



In college, the only reason a guy and girl slept in the same bed without having sex was because one or both were gay, or the girl refused. No heterosexual guy would fail to make a move on any girl in his bed, attracted to her or not. That’s why he’d avoided getting into that particular spot. He didn’t want to be one of those guys who took advantage of the situation and give the girl the wrong idea. Not like Braden did.

“I promise I won’t make a move on you.” He climbed off the bed, scooped up the bedding. As Portia watched him, licking her lips, and running her fingers through her hair, he arranged a space for himself on the left side of the bed.

She fell back onto her pillow. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

Was that disappointment in her voice?

“Goodnight, Ryan,” she whispered.

He drew the blanket over his shoulders and turned to face the wall. “Goodnight, Portia.” For the first time in his life, he was going to sleep next to a woman and not touch her. And he’d never wanted a woman more.





Chapter 7

In terms of choice I am not solely led

By nice direction of a maiden’s eyes.

William Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice, act 2, scene 1

Light streamed in the room, waking Portia from her restless sleep. Yawning, she reluctantly opened her eyes. How could it be morning? She couldn’t have fallen asleep more than a couple of hours ago.

Now she understood why she’d never slept with a guy. Ryan had conked out ten minutes after getting into bed, squashing any belief she might have had that he might be attracted to her. On the other hand, she’d lain awake all night, listening to the sounds of crickets chirping, wondering if the scurrying noises were getting any closer.

There was a reason she didn’t take the floor when Ryan came to bed. She wasn’t fond of anything resembling a mouse either. But she didn’t want to admit it, preferring to have something to hold over his head. Now that she’d found a weakness in his perfect veneer, she’d extort it for all it was worth.

As she lay there, she began to make a list of all the items they’d need to get to today. First thing, they’d have to call the power company. The next order of business was to buy a bed. She didn’t think she could handle another sleepless night beside Ryan . . . unless she had a more enjoyable reason for the lack of rest.