She descended the stairs with her head held high in confidence, which was probably why she didn’t notice old Zeus perched on the step.
His mouth opened to sound a warning, but she moved too quickly and landed on Zeus. Crying, the cat jumped to his feet, throwing Portia off-balance. Her arms flailed and her feet slid down the next couple of stairs. Ryan raced to the bottom and caught her in his arms.
His hand came in contact with the warm skin of her back. He helped her to her feet and spun her around so he could inspect the backside of her shirt. A red strap ran under her shoulder blades, holding the shirt in place. The rest of her back was bare.
Again. Hell.
“You can’t go out like that. Go change.” The demanding tone of his voice surprised even him.
She twisted around and glared at him. “Excuse me? Why not?”
Because it was one thing to tempt him, but in that getup, he’d have to beat the guys off of her. Somehow, he knew that answer wouldn’t fly. “You’ll get cold.”
She laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I get all hot and sweaty when I dance.” She turned around and smiled at him with her red lipstick-stained lips. “Thanks for catching me and for looking out for me. Come on. You drive.” She picked up her purse hanging off the banister and slipped it over her shoulder.
He settled his palm on the small of her back, ushering her to the car, then opened her door. She wore some kind of perfume tonight, mixing the scent of lavender with her usual vanilla. As she slid into her seat, he maintained eye contact, eliciting a little gasp from her before she lowered her lashes and broke their magnetic connection.
Three hours. That’s how long he’d have to wait to get her into bed.
Hell.
They made it to her sister’s apartment managing to be only a few minutes late. He shut off the car’s engine and ran around to the other side to open her door, but she stepped out before he reached it. Damn, she had no idea this was a date, but he promised himself she would by the end of the evening.
The apartment building smelled of curry, so overpowering he couldn’t even smell Portia. They climbed the stairs to the third floor, Portia in front of him, thanks to some quick maneuvering on his part. At the top, they walked down the hall until she stopped and knocked on a door, laughs and low murmuring coming from behind it.
“It’s open,” someone yelled, presumably Viola.
Portia flicked him a glance then opened the door. Viola sat on a couch next to an older looking guy who had his arm resting on her shoulders. Another man, who appeared to be around Ryan’s age, sat on a loveseat. Both men stood as they entered the apartment.
For such a flamboyant woman, Viola’s place was actually plain. She didn’t have any pictures on the white walls and her couches were a dark brown fabric. She had a small table, also brown, right outside of the galley kitchen. A few boxes sat in the far corner of the room next to a flat-screen TV which leaned against the wall on the floor. Portia had mentioned her sister moved around a lot, and apparently, she wasn’t planning on making this place her permanent home any time soon.
For some reason, that fact bothered him. Portia had just moved here and she didn’t know a soul other than him and Viola. He also knew Portia hoped to reestablish a bond with her sister. Family was important to her. Didn’t Viola understand?
“I can’t believe you’re late,” Viola said as she hugged Portia.
Portia’s back grew rigid. “Only five minutes.”
“Relax.” Viola released her and laughed. “I was teasing you. You know I don’t care about things like that.” Her sister glanced up at Ryan. “Thanks for dropping her off. I’ll make sure she gets a ride home.”
“I invited Ryan to come with us,” Portia said quietly.
Viola’s jaw dropped and she stepped in closer to Portia. “I wish you wouldn’t have done that. This is supposed to be a double-date.”
“You never said anything about a double-date,” Portia hissed.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t think I had to spell it out for you. I explained Jon was bringing his nephew and we were supposed to show him a good time. What’d you think I meant?”
Ryan’s inner caveman demanded he mark his territory to let the other men know Portia belonged to him. He threw his arm around her waist and tugged her closer. “I take it Portia was supposed to be his good time?”
Viola’s eyebrows shot up as she caught his possessiveness. “No, not exactly, but if the two of them hit it off . . .”
“Everything okay, Pumpkin?” Viola’s boyfriend sidled up behind her and mirrored Ryan’s territorial marking.