Chapter 4
The night was over. We’d danced until the club closed, and Portia’s Manhattan and my vodka tonic had become too watered from the melted ice to drink.
I thanked the band and the bartender, helped Portia on with her coat and handed her her purse, and we left, walking arm in arm to where my car was waiting in the Casa del Vitello’s parking lot. And although the lot was empty, I stayed vigilant. I wanted nothing to happen to this lovely woman.
I opened the passenger door, and she lowered herself to the front seat. For a moment I caught a glimpse of stockinged thigh, and then she tugged her skirt down and arranged her legs decorously to the side.
I swallowed, desiring her more than any woman I’d ever encountered. Fortunately, the loose cut of my trousers concealed my arousal.
She
