“Fine, Porter.” I said bitterly.

“As in, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“I’ll move $20,000 to the account to the Meridian tonight.”

“What about another $5,000?” I said meekly. Hating asking but knowing I needed it for mom’s surgery.

He set the glass down on the table. “Soon as you’re done moving in tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I squawked.

He nodded. Confirming. “Tomorrow.”

“That’s not even possible.”

“It is. I’ll help you.”

“How are you going to do that? Load boxes in your Spider?”

“I’ll borrow my brother’s truck. And my brothers.”

“Porter…”

“Kane.”

“Porter…” I said warily.

“Stop stalling, Love. Give up the game. I got you.”

He’s right.

I’ve no choice. I was going to move in with him. What did I think I was going to do? Get the money and stall him?

Looking at Porter’s hard features and the way he was commanding this club. Running it like a force of nature, I was quite sure that ‘accidentally’ forgetting to move in would never work.

He’d probably toss me over his shoulder screaming.

“This is partly because of Susan, isn’t it?”

“Yes. She’ll stop following me, if she thinks I’ve another woman.”

So much for only wanting the ‘presence’ of a woman.

However, wanting to use me as a human decoy to detour her seemed a far more logical reason he wanted me to move into his apartment in a supposedly platonic way.

It is going to be platonic. I told myself.

But there was a tiny voice asking if that was what I truly wanted as my eyes roved over the breadth of those shoulders, straying to the fine cut lines of his chest bared by the low buttons of that skin-tight black shirt.

I rose from the table and whirled around to go.

He caught my forearm in a light grip. “Off, so fast?”

“I…” I looked up at him. Wondering how he’d gotten on his feet so fast.

I was drowning in that expensive woodsy cologne.

Why does he have to smell so good?

It was a heady scent.

“I best let you get to work.”

He quirked his lips in a lopsided grin. “Got what you want, so you’re out now, huh?”

I frowned at him.

That’s how he sees me.

“Well, if I’m supposed to move my whole apartment tomorrow, I should probably get some sleep.”

“Ooh.” His lips pursed, though his eyes brightened with interest. “Throwing jabs already, are we?”

Yes.

“No.” I denied.

“The hell you’re not.”

I opened my mouth to object but he cut me off.

“It’s fine. I’ll play.” He said in a low voice. His eyes fixed on me like a cat looking at a mouse he intends to taste.

“You’re upset I have you cornered. That’s understandable.”

My gaze roved his face. Realizing that I was going to have to be very, very careful with him.

He’s like a hot grenade.

Pin pulled and I’ve the handle pinched. If I flinch once something atomic could happen.

“Nothing to say, now, Angel?” He queried. Almost taunting me.

Scratch that.

Flat out taunting me.

I needed to remember one very critical thing when dealing with him.

Do. Not. Underestimate. Kane Porter.

I shook my head slowly. Spinning around and heading for the doors.

“See you soon, Love.” He called after me.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

And my last thought as I pushed through the door?

So much for safe…

***

It was barely past midnight, at least that’s what it felt like, when there was banging on my door that surely indicated one of my neighbors had been murdered and cops wanted to question me.

I launched from my bed so blearily that the sheets tangled around my pretty painted toes and I fell flat on my face. Crawling on my knees to my bedroom door and finally through the dripping ceiling of my living room to rip open the door. Rearing back as I spotted Porter in my hall.

“How the Hell…”

“Good Morning, Sunshine.” He shoved a cup of coffee at me.

I reflexively took it as he pushed in past me while I was still trying to decide if I was having some awful nightmare. I peeled back the plastic lid to peek inside. Getting a look at the scalded black of it.

“What is this?” I lifted it. “Roofing tar?”

“Are you a coffee snob?” He asked over his shoulder as three other men wandered into my apartment behind him.

“Yes. As a matter-of-fact.”

“Hmm. Interesting.” He looked down at me.

I blinked one eye then the other to try to clear it of the sleep haze. “What time is it? O’ dark thirty?”

“Almost 6 am.” He said cheerfully.

The cup lowered in my hand as I stared at him. Asking flatly. “Are you Satan?”

He snorted. “Maybe.”

He wasn’t even looking at me. He was glancing around my Living Room in interest. Paying special attention to the bucket nearly overflowing beneath the leak.

That’s embarrassing.

The three other large men were wandering my apartment, picking things up and inspect them.

Who the hell are they?

Porter swung his head back toward me. “You going to throw on some clothes?”

I eyed him running his hand through the hair at the front to shove it back in wet, waving strands.

He’s already showered.

How long has he been awake?

I’d gotten home in the hired driver car at around 11:30 p.m.

And he was only just beginning his night.

“Don’t you sleep?” I asked sullenly.

“Rarely.”

“Clothes?” He asked.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I asked snottily. Then I glanced down.

And about shit myself.

One breast was all but creeping from the top of my worn, satin pajama top. It was pulled far enough to the side from me falling that one brown crest was visible in the corner of the neckline.

Gasping I tugged it up. Giving him a horrified look.

He grinned unabashedly. Chewing a piece of gum, he kicked off to the side to pinch between his teeth. “I did ask twice.”

He tried to tell me.

Horrified I ran to my room to change.