‘Hmph.’
‘Now hold your arms out like a good little girl.’The tone may have been taunting, but it shouldn’t have made her body tingle the way it did.
‘Why?’
Towering over her, still too damn smug, he pulled her arms open, leaving her no choice but to hold the blankets he’d dumped on her.
‘This way…’ Tugging her arm, he led them down the corridor.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Helping.’
Amara should’ve walked away.Her pulse was still simmering just below fight mode, enough to let Porter lead her down the corridor without resistance.She really must’ve been tired, to follow this easily.
‘How is this helping?’she muttered.
‘Since you won’t take a break, or admit you need sleep, I figured I’d lock you up for your own good.’Porter shot her a grin as he opened the far cell door and ushered her inside.The clang of the bars behind them echoed too loud in the dark corridor, the air suddenly thick.
‘Seriously?’She could’ve snapped back—should’ve.But the fight had drained out of her somewhere between the paperwork and the third cup of stale coffee.And damn it, the blankets looked inviting, too.
‘I don’t want you showing up at the Ironbark Ball looking like a zombie.I’ve got a reputation to uphold, you know.’
‘I’m not your date.It’s a fake date.Got it?’
He leaned in closer, his voice low, almost seductive.‘It could be a date, Montrose.’
Silence filled the air, as heavy as his eyes that trailed down her body.
It was a challenge to breathe.‘I don’t date.I can thank my ex-fiancé for that.’
‘Yeah, right?Sorry.’He raked nails through his hair, stepping away from her.
But the cool air was not what she wanted, when she wanted him closer to feel his body heat—which was all wrong!
‘Do yourself a favour and just take a catnap in here.’
‘In the cells?Are you crazy?’She tried to push past him, but he was solid.Warm and muscular.
‘In this station, we’ve all had power naps in here before.That’s why I gave you the good blankets, and you’re in the good cell.There are no cameras in here, which means no crims have ever been in here.’
‘Not gonna happen.And it’s not your concern what I do.’But she should talk to him about manners, shoe polish and cutlery for this ball, just not here, inside a cell.
‘I’m trying to take care of you, Montrose.Don’t you see that?’
She inhaled sharply as she stepped back.
‘You can be so one-track minded.Good for a cop, but not as a person.And you are more than just the job.’
‘I didn’t ask for you to take care of me, so save the lecture.’
‘Come on, Montrose, you know I’m not the type of guy who needs to be asked to give someone a hand.’
He was right.Porter just helped others.Even if it seemed like he was slacking off, he was proactive, and he cared for people.
It didn’t help that the low light defined the lines and angles of his handsome features.
Yet, time somehow stretched between them, as the intensity threatened to consume them both.She tried to force her attention away, yet all she saw was Porter.Taller.Bigger.Stronger.Porter.
