Sway With Me(3)

“Portia dressed up as a clerk to defend Antonio against the loan shark, right?”

“You’ve read it?” The muscles around her brows twitched as though they would arch if they hadn’t already been yanked up by the tight bun in her hair.

“I took a class in college. My girlfriend convinced . . .”

She leaned in as if eager to hear. He wouldn’t ruin this moment by drudging up her or the past. Portia didn’t need to know that idealistic, naïve boy. That was the old Ryan, the one buried long ago. The one who didn’t know the true value of money.

He gripped the leather arm of his chair and slapped it lightly with his fingers. “I won’t bore you with tales of my college days. I take it your parents are fans of Shakespeare?” he asked, wanting to know more about her.

She uncrossed her legs and began pointing and flexing her feet. “My mother. She went through a phase where she was obsessed with everything Shakespeare. Unfortunately, my sister and I were born during those years.”

The stretching and coiling muscles of her feet had him riveted. He watched, mesmerized by the precision of her movements. A slight shiver of arousal passed through him as in his mind, he saw her naked beneath him, her other muscles tightening and straining for release. He’d never had any sort of predilection for feet, but he had a strong feeling that with her, he’d develop a foot fetish. Tearing his gaze from her erotic foot exercise, he focused on her face. “What’s your sister’s name?”



“Viola. She hates it and goes by Lola instead.” She grimaced. “I guess it could have been worse. We could have been born during my mother’s ‘Save the Whales’ years and been named Shamu and Willy.”

He laughed. A sense of humor, too? Screw the fates. He couldn’t let such a perfect woman slip through his fingers. “Listen, I know we just met, but can I get your phone number? I’d love to take you out to dinner.”

Shifting in her chair, she paled and her neck stiffened as if he’d offended her with his request.

And just like that, reality smacked him in the face, giving him a grim reminder. He’d obviously misread their connection. He should have known someone like her wouldn’t be single. Just because she didn’t wear a ring didn’t mean she didn’t have a boyfriend—or girlfriend come to think of it.

He gave her an extra wide smile showing her there were no hard feelings. After all, it was for the best. A woman would complicate his life, and the last thing he needed was another complication. He and Braden had agreed women were good for two things—serving as eye candy on their arm at fundraisers and scratching the occasional horny itch.

As a member of the notorious Stavros family, he didn’t have to work too hard at finding a date. On the contrary, he’d grown tired of women throwing themselves at him. Of course, once they discovered he wasn’t worth anything near his two younger brothers, they ran away faster than a starving greyhound chasing a mechanical rabbit. By that time, he’d have gotten everything he wanted from them anyway. And if by chance they stuck around, Braden would casually slip Ryan’s lack of funds into the conversation. Not once had a woman stayed with him after learning he was broke. No, he’d learned over and over that he could never trust a woman.



Why, then, did Portia’s rebuff feel like she’d kicked him in the gut with her sexy shoes then twisted his insides into a pretzel for good measure? He never should have broken one of his cardinal rules.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” He swept his fingers up and down the smooth leather arm of his chair.

She seemed mesmerized by his hands, staring at them before she gently shook her head and regarded him in the eye. “No. It’s not that. I’m just—”

The front door to the suite swung open and a short man with wispy black hair sticking out in all directions breezed through carrying a briefcase. “Sorry, sorry. I’m George Pappas, your uncle’s attorney.” He stuck out his sweaty palm for Ryan to shake before moving on to shake Portia’s hand. “I would have been here earlier except I was in a car accident. Darn teenager barely tall enough to see over the steering wheel rear-ended me as we were getting on the exit ramp. Why they give licenses to those cretins I’ll never understand.”

Ryan could barely suppress his laughter. This guy stood no taller than five-foot two by his estimate. Measuring a couple inches over six feet himself, and Portia about a half-foot shorter, they’d tower over the attorney who looked like a mad scientist who’d just come out of his lab for fresh air.