Turning away from her, he hurried through the master bedroom, pulling his knife from his pocket and wishing he’d strapped on his pistol at least.
He entered the main room and saw Lewis in the kitchen, pulling a water bottle out of the fridge. The man turned, and his gaze narrowed as he looked over Zeke with contempt. Zeke felt his own lip curl. Was it time to prove to this Brit who was in charge?
Soft fingertips touched the back of the hand that held his knife, and he inhaled lemon candy. It temporarily distracted him from wanting to take Lewis apart.
“Rambo,” Mia said softly. “We’re all on the same team, remember?” She met his gaze, silently asking him not to pummel Lewis. Why? He’d gotten the sense she didn’t like the guy, and she’d said it was her choice to stop dating him.
“Rambo?” Lewis sneered, then let out a derisive laugh. “You two getting all chummy in there?”
“It’s none of your never mind if we are,” Mia threw back at him before Zeke could decide if he should let the knife fly. He’d only graze the man’s arm. Teach him a lesson. “Now you back off. Zeke is in charge here, and you are to fulfill your duties. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Zeke forced himself to look at Lewis when he wanted to feast on how glorious Mia was with her brave sass and sparkling brown eyes. The man squeezed the plastic water bottle, the muscles in his neck and arms bulging.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on duty?” Zeke asked, keeping his voice deliberately calm and commanding at the same time. Mia’s hand was still on his, and he couldn’t deny her touch was the most pleasant sensation he’d ever felt. He wanted to think about it more. It was confusing him and making him want to beg her to keep touching him, but he had to focus on this guy right now.
“Mr. Delta relieved me,” Lewis snarled.
Which Mr. Delta? Zeke would love to go chat with any of the Deltas. Of course Lewis wouldn’t take the time to learn their names. He probably thought they were beneath him.
“Well, I hope you have a restful kip,” Mia said diplomatically. She ran her fingers along the back of Zeke’s hand and up to his wrist, encircling it.
Zeke almost dropped his knife. What was she doing? He glanced sharply at her. She tilted her head back toward the master suite. She obviously wanted to get away from this loser. Zeke didn’t want to back down, but he found his desire to be alone with Mia was stronger than his need to pummel Lewis. The fight would come … soon.
He let her turn him with gentle pressure and she rewarded him with a heart-stopping smile. He blinked at her. This woman had power he’d never witnessed before. He knew power—power to command and inspire men, power to win at any battle. He’d worked hard to possess that power. The power Mia had was gentle, influential, and wielded with a sweet smile and somehow without any force or coercion. He was doing her bidding because he wanted to.
“Enjoy your time with her, Captain America,” Lewis threw at his back.
Zeke stiffened. Mia’s eyes widened, and she silently begged him not to go lay the guy out.
“Lady Mia will never settle down with one man, let alone anAmerican.”
“You assume too much, Blaine,” Mia said calmly, her gaze never leaving Zeke’s. “And you’re bitter because you weren’t enough of a man for me.” Zeke wished he could see Lewis’s reaction to that, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from Mia’s brown eyes. “My Rambo is exactly the type of man who could settle me down.” She looked at Zeke with such longing his entire body tingled.
Was sheserious? Nah. She was just putting Lewis in his place.
“The duke would never allow you to be with the likes of him.”
“Thedukehas no control over me.”
“I’ll be sure to let him know you said that.”
“Be my guest.” Mia tugged at Zeke, and he found himself going willingly with her into the bedroom. She quickly shut the door behind them, released his arm, and stepped back.
Zeke closed his knife and put it in his pocket, flexing and extending his fingers, trying to stop the sensation of her touching him from spreading throughout his body like those tingles had with one look from her. How was he going to defend her from the Sneaky Stalker when he couldn’t keep his head from one look or touch?
What was happening to him, anyway? He abhorred someone touching him. Not her. In fact, he wanted her to touch him, and he desperately wanted to touch her. How would she act if he reciprocated the gentle touches she’d instigated so far? He couldn’t let himself think on that too long.
“Sorry,” she murmured, glancing up at him. “He’s such a prat.”
Sorry because of Lewis or sorry that she’d manhandled him? He found himself smiling. Nobody had manhandled him since …
His smile quickly disappeared.
“You handled him well,” he told her.
“Thanks. I’ve got a lot of experience with prats.” She smiled, and it lit up the room.
He was drawn to her smile, but he loathed the thought of her having “experience” with other men. What did that mean? Did she date and kiss all these men, or was she intimate with them? A possessiveness filled his chest that he had never experienced. He wanted Mia all to himself. He didn’t want her to look at, think about, date, or kiss other men.