He snapped his fingers with a smile. “Earplugs it is.”
She growled. The man was insufferable. “This room is about to lose its murder-free status because I’m going to kill you in your sleep.”
“Careful, making threats like that is a felony. I’d hate to have to arrest you. Although, you sitting in jail would definitely be a safe place. But I can’t promise that the accommodations are superior to what we have right here.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Princess, you’ll find that I dare much. Keep pushing and you’ll find out just how far I’m willing to go.”
There was something about the way he held her gaze that sent a dangerous thrill arcing through her nerve endings. There was no pushing him around—no bulldozing him. Men crumbled when she pushed. Not Rian. He not only pushed back, he dared her to push harder. There was something electric dancing between them even if neither wanted to admit it. And that stubborn mouth had the most sensual lips she’d ever seen. So he wasn’t hard on the eyes, she grudgingly admitted, finding it hard to pull her gaze away when she realized she’d been staring a little too long. Rian would be the perfect guy to have angry, I-hate-you sex with. If she were into that kind of thing. “So if there’s no room service, how exactly do you plan to feed me?” she finally asked.
He pulled a brown square package from his backpack and tossed it at her. She caught it in confusion. “What the hell is this?”
“That, my dear, is a military-issue MRE. I think it’s meat loaf. Not bad but not great, either. I don’t want to oversell it.”
She dropped the package as if it were made of poison and it landed on the floor with a dull thud. “Are you kidding me? Those things have, like, three thousand calories. I can’t eat that.”
“They fill the belly. I suppose if you get hungry enough you’ll dig in.”
“You can’t be serious. We’re not at war. There is no reason why I should have to eat something meant for soldiers in the field. And I don’t believe you eat these, either. If you had a steady diet of MREs, you’d be fat as a tick.”
He rubbed his belly. “I guess I just have a fast metabolism.”
There was no winning with this man. She threw her hands up. “I guess I’ll starve. And when you return me to my father, starving and near death because I haven’t had any food or water, something tells me he won’t be hot to write you a check.”
He sighed dramatically. “You are the biggest pain. Fine, I’ll go get you something to eat, but I’m talking burgers and fries, not some fancy French froufrou stuff. Got it?”
She supposed that was a victory of some sort. “It’ll do for now. But if that’s how you eat normally, your arteries must be clogged with gunk.”
“Don’t worry about my arteries—they’re just fine.”
“Are you always this much of a jerk with all your clients?” she asked. “Because you have terrible manners. I can’t imagine you’re saving all of that just for me.”
“How about you, princess? Your manners aren’t exactly great, either. I would ask how you have any friends at all but then you’re rich, so that probably helps. People can put up with a lot if they’re getting perks. Do you hand out Coach bags for the ones that hang around the longest?”
She drew back, stung. “That’s ridiculous. You don’t know me and you certainly don’t know what my friends are like.”
“Oh, I have a pretty good idea. Don’t you remember I watched you all night last night? I hate to break it to you but I’m willing to bet you don’t have any true friends. All those people were doing was trashing your house—excuse me, it’s not even your house—trashing your mother’s house. Doesn’t that bother you?”
“They weren’t trashing the house,” she disagreed hotly. “And besides, we have a cleaning company coming in to pick up in the morning. My mom will never know.”
“That’s not the point. It’s not your place to trash. If you are throwing a raging party at a house—pick your own.”