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glared at the culprit who ordered them to do so. “Wouldn’t it have been easier for me to return my car and get my own things?”
    “Would you’ve come straight here without me sending someone?” He crossed his arms.
    She ignored the question. He knew the answer to that. It was no. If she had gotten scared, the storm shelter Jimmy had built next to the house would be the perfect place to hide out.
    Without waiting for a reply, he said with a self-satisfied grin, “That’s what I thought. You’re safer with me here.”
    She wanted to stay angry at him, but the man knew how to play that smile. He was gorgeous. Not the pretty-boy kind, but the kind who would bite and then have a person asking for more. Playfully dangerous.
    “So how long do you think I need to stay with you?”
    His gaze traveled down her body. Heat swirled along the path. She twisted her fingers in the halves of her skirt. The way he studied every inch tightened her skin and weakened her knees. With a certainty, she knew he imagined running those big rough hands up her legs and between her thighs, even to the moisture waiting for his touch. No one had ever looked at her that way. She liked it.
    His chest heaved and then he pointed toward steps running alongside one wall of the room and instructed the men, “Take her bags upstairs and put them in my room.”
    Her attention remained on his face. It gave no clue as to his intentions. Did he expect sex in exchange for protection?
    Though she was still a virgin, she’d grown up on a commune and had seen a lot of nature taking its course, so she had no sexual hang-ups. But strangely, she was old-fashioned enough that she knew she wouldn’t practice “free love” with just anybody. She’d want to get to know the person.
    She found Storm interesting, fascinating actually. His looks attracted her, but there were aspects of his personality she needed to examine first. Like the gloves. She knew lots of bikers used them for long-distance rides, but except for his time in the interrogation room, he had worn them all day and night. Why?
    After Storm had ridden off, her lawyer had said that he’d been stripped and every piece of clothing examined for blood. He was a prideful man. It would’ve ruffled his feathers good. That helped her to understand his earlier attitude. She would’ve been pissed at the world too.
    She halted in place. “Shouldn’t we talk terms first?”
    The intense sexual look he gave her had her taking a step back. The man did have the power to say a lot without speaking a word.
    “Terms of the protection.” She said each word in a clear tone.
    He grinned, one corner of his mouth a little higher than the other.
    “We’ll talk in the morning. I’ve got a few things to do. I’ll feel better knowing you’re secure in the one room. No one will enter without my permission.”
    That didn’t bode well for her. If no one dared to enter, then if she screamed who would save her from Storm? Looking around, she decided she could protest and they would only laugh.
    Storm had been rude a couple, well, a few times, but she never felt threatened bodily by him. Damn. She wished he would quit giving her that crooked grin. It was so freaking sexy.
    “Okay. One night. Then we talk and come to an understanding. But we’re not sleeping in the same bed. You can sleep on the couch down here.”
    He gave an evil chuckle and waved her toward the steps.
    When she reached the hallway above, she was pleasantly surprised by how normal it looked. Pictures of motorcycles and people lined up behind banners proclaiming different runs and chapters of the Brothers of Mayhem covered the walls. There were four closed doors.
    Storm opened the one at the end. The room had a sitting area with oversized recliners and another large-screen TV, an old pinball machine, and several large pictures of motorcycles hung over an unmade king-size bed at the opposite end next to a long dresser without a mirror. With an archway