Page 24 of Idaho

He looked up as he pulled a bottle of pills out of the nightstand drawer. "It's what we call a meeting with our club," he explained.

"Oh." I held my hand out for him to shake two pills into it.

"Those will help your headache."

"How did you know I had one?"

"I can see the pain in your eyes." He stepped forward and brushed some of the hair back from my face. "You have very expressive eyes," he murmured.

My mind went blank at his touch. It was as though every fiber of my being was focused where his fingertips were brushing against my skin. I'd never felt this way around a man before. And other than my family, and our bodyguards, I'd never felt so safe. What was it about him that made me feel as though nothing bad would happen? I mean, he'd promised me that, but he was a stranger. I wasn't in the habit of trusting people I didn't know.

I broke eye contact, fighting to control my own body as it went haywire from being so near to him. I couldn't believe I'd slept in his arms all night. That had been incredibly inappropriate. My father was going to be livid when he found out. He would demand I come home immediately if he heard about everything that had happened last night. "Where's Thomas?"

A muscle in Idaho's jaw flexed at my question. "You need to eat something," he said, ignoring my question.

"Idaho," I sighed, "I need to speak with Thomas."

"Who is he to you?"

Narrowing my eyes on him, I put the pills into my mouth, opened the water bottle and took a drink. "I told you-"

"Stop lying to me."

It was hard to hold back my anger. He was pushy, and arrogant, and I wasn't sure why he affected me so much. He bothered me, in more ways than one. "It's none of your business. I need to speak with him." He crossed his arms over his chest and I couldn't help but notice the way his biceps strained the sleeves of his shirt. Why couldn't I think when he was close by?

"If you want to see him, you're going to have to tell me the truth first."

"What truth?" I muttered, glaring at him.

"Who is he to you? Why were those men following you last night? I'm sure I'll think of more once you start talking."

My mouth dropped open. "I don't know why they were following us," I exclaimed. "Other than they were jerks." I searched his face, concern growing inside me. "You think they were following us for a specific reason." It wasn't a question.

Both his brows shot upward. "You're perceptive."

I'd been working with my father for over ten years. I'd learned to read facial expressions and body language to help piece together some of the things that often weren't said out loud in his negotiations. Which led me back to last night. Idaho suspected those men hadn't only followed me because I'd refused to dance with them. I stumbled backward a few steps and sat heavily on the bed. What was going on? I'd gotten the feeling that the interaction last night was off as well. I'd been willing to chalk it up to not knowing how things in America worked, but if he suspected foul play as well, I had to take that seriously.

"I really need to speak to Thomas," I said, voice soft as the realization that Father could have been right about the dangers of me coming here hit. "Please."

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. Louder, he said, "Wait here."

I just stared at the floor, trying not to cry. If this was some kind of nefarious plan by some unknown person to get to my father through me, I was going to have to go home. I didn't want to. I wanted to stay here, complete my degree, get away from the oppressing overprotectiveness of my father. But how could I, if someone was after me?

The door opened again and I swallowed hard as I looked up at Thomas. The plan had been for us to live here for a few months, and then I'd speak to Father about him sending Thomas's wife and children over here to live as well. I didn't want to be responsible for splitting up his family for years.

"Lady Desmet," he said, tone formal as always. "How are you?"

I shook my head, stealing a glance at the doorway where Idaho was standing. "Could we have a moment?" It was obvious he was reluctant, but he stepped backward and shut the door, so I was alone with my bodyguard. "Thomas, I'm so sorry."

He frowned. "What for?"

"I think the attack last night may have been more than just men being jerks."

Thomas sighed and nodded. "I thought the same."

"You didn't call my father, did you?" I asked, standing quickly in desperation. I wrung my hands together as I waited for him to speak.

"No, but I should have." He shot me an apologetic look. "Your father agreed to only send me with you because we thought it would be safe. If someone is targeting you, I'm afraid I won't be able to keep you from harm. We have to call him."