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Acting instead of thinking, she pulled back the red curtain and ducked inside. Sure enough, her missing biker was suddenly found.
“Who the hell are you?” the nymph asked, hands under Doc’s shirt.
“The person who will send you to hell if you don’t get your grimy fingers off him,” Isa replied, stalking over and yanking on the blonde’s hair.
“Hey, watch it, bitch!” the nymph shrieked, but Isa didn’t give a damn.
She shoved the blonde to the floor. “If I catch you anywhere near Doc O’Brien, I’ll show you exactly how much of a bitch I can be.”
The nymph cowered slightly, then crawled out of sight. Shock suddenly hit her at what she’d just done. She’d never been in a catfight—or any fight, for that matter—but she’d managed to get herself into one tonight.
Turning on her toes, she met Doc’s eyes, which were alight with humor. He stood and gazed down at her. “What was that?”
Shame washed over her. “Damn, I should apologize to her. I was such a—”
“Jealous woman?” he finished for her, tilting her chin up.
“Yeah, that. I don’t know what came over me.”
His gaze flicked to her lips, then back to her eyes. “Why’d you come downstairs? Didn’t Brewer warn you about what you’d find?”
“Aye, but I had to find you.”
“Why?”
“Brewer’s my third cousin. Actually, I’m not sure that’s even right, but we’re related.”
He dropped his hold. “So?”
“So, I’m not interested in him. Like at all.”
“I know.”
“And even if we weren’t related—” She stopped, his words finally registering. “What do you mean, you know?”
He straightened his cut. “You were trying to make me jealous, weren’t you?”
“Not intentionally. It kind of happened.”
“You accidentally wore a shirt that showed off your gorgeous tits and jeans that make your ass squeezable?”
She noticed his small grin despite the dim lighting. “No. That was on purpose.”
He took a step closer as the thump of the rock song echoed in her ears. “And why would you wear something so sexy to dinner?”
“So you’d want me.”
Doc let out a strangled sigh. “Isa, I want you. You already know that. I’ve done everything possible to stop wanting you, but it always comes back to you. Hell, you could wear a donkey costume and I’d still want that ass.”
She rolled her eyes at his attempt at a joke. “Seriously?”
He pulled her against his chest. “What did I tell you about rolling your eyes?”
Her gaze locked with his, the pounding of her heart louder than the bass in the song surrounding them. “That you’d punish me.”
“But only if you want me to.”
“I want more than that.”
