Page 18 of Idaho

I blinked slowly, trying hard not to look down at his firm lips. How would they feel against mine? No. That wasn't what I should be thinking about. I forced my brain to comply, forming more appropriate words. "What does that mean?" I asked.

He straightened up, motioning toward the bed. "You can sleep there tonight."

Looking over my shoulder, I took in the rumpled blankets and sheets. "Is that your bed?"

"Yes."

"I'm not staying in here with you," I told him, folding my arms beneath my breasts.

His arched brow was a question and a dare mixed into one.

"It isn't proper," I told him. "I want my own room."

"Too bad, Duchess. You already had five men try to abduct you tonight. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"For how long?" I asked, outraged.

"As long as I deem necessary."

My jaw dropped. I wasn't sure where he got the audacity. "Who are you to-"

He took a step forward, making me swallow my words, and erasing the minuscule space between us. "I'm used to getting what I want, Duchess. You'll come to accept that soon enough." He moved past me, allowing the breath I'd sucked in to escape now that he wasn't staring me down.

Who was this guy? And why was he treating me like he was another one of my bodyguards? Had my father somehow gone against my wishes and hired more men to protect me? Nothing else made sense. Why else would this man be so hell bent on protecting me? Even when I didn't want it? My gaze landed on the door handle.

"Don't you dare fucking touch that handle, Duchess. If you think staying here with me tonight is improper, you won't like what happens if you keep testing my patience."

I turned my head and saw him, back to me, stripping out of his vest. He wasn't even looking at me. "Do you have eyes in the back of your head?" I muttered.

"No. I just know a brat when I see one. It's not hard to guess your next move."

Whipping around, I glared at his back. "I'm not a brat."

"Could've fooled me."

"And stop calling me Duchess," I demanded. "My name is Eva."

The knock on the door interrupted whatever he'd been about to say. He moved over and opened it, ignoring me. "Thanks."

"What's the plan here, Bro?" Static asked as he looked into the room at me. He handed over a familiar blue duffel bag.

"No plan."

Static shook his head. "You've been here a little over a week and you're already starting shit."

Idaho chuckled. "It's what I'm good at. How is he?"

"Rip and Hush are calming him down. He'll be fine. It wasn't like he was going to pitch them out on their asses, even after Thomas showed up."

I moved toward the door, but Idaho closed it until it was touching his shoulder, blocking my view of the other man. Huffing out a breath, I snatched my bag out of Idaho's hand and walked across the room. I wanted to stomp my feet, but didn't want to prove him right. Never in my life had I been called a brat. I probably was as a child, but no one would dare name me as such. Not with the way my father ran his household.

I looked over my shoulder and saw Idaho still talking to Static through the door. They were both speaking in hushed tones so I couldn't hear what they were saying. My temper flared. Who was he to do all this? His brother said we could stay here tonight. No one had mentioned being forced to stay in the same room with the man who'd rescued me. I went into the bathroom and changed into a comfortable pair of leggings and a cropped t-shirt. They were my pajamas. My father would have a coronary if he knew I was wearing these clothes in front of a man, but I had no other option. I wasn't going to sleep in my jeans, or the other business clothes I had inside the bag. Besides, the clothes I wore tonight smelled of alcohol and fear. I didn't want to be in them a moment longer than I had to. I'd probably burn them given the first opportunity, just to help rid myself of the memories.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I nearly swallowed my tongue. My eyes fell to Idaho's naked chest. He'd removed his shirt and was now standing there in nothing but his jeans. He folded his muscular arms over his chest as I stood there, frozen. All his muscles rippled as he moved, making me swallow hard. A black and white tattoo crawled down his right ribs and disappeared below his jeans. I wondered how far down it went. My eyes flashed up and met his. Amusement at my expense filled his face. Stupid smug face. I huffed out another breath and went over to the bed, stripping one of the blankets off the bed and grabbing a pillow.

"What are you doing?"

"Sleeping on the floor," I told him without turning around.