CHAPTER TEN
BRAND DIDN’T LIKE the evasive way Sahara got her phone from her purse and checked for messages.
“Sahara?”
“Hmm?”
She was definitely up to something. “I’m telling you now, don’t get involved.”
In a huff, she lowered the phone and glared at him. “Do you think you could try trusting me just a little?”
“No. Not with this.”
Appearing hurt, she paused and asked, “Do you trust me with anything else?”
He wanted to reassure her, but this was too important to leave open to interpretation. “I trust you to keep your word.”
One slim brow arched. “My word?”
“We had an agreement—and honey, we’re not in the office, and not around your employees.” Brand spared her a quick glance. “That means I’m the boss.”
Silence filled the interior of the car, then he felt her hand on his shoulder.
“Do you have some orders for me, sir?” Her fingers trailed down his arm, off his arm and onto his leg. She curved her hand over his thigh, fingertips dangerously close to his junk. “Something you’d like me to...do?”
Forgetting all about his mother, Brand accused, “Tease.”
“I enjoy teasing you.” Her nails lightly scraped over the denim at his crotch. “Don’t you enjoy it?”
“Yeah.” He enjoyed it a lot. Holding the wheel tight and keeping his gaze on the road, he said, “Maybe you should save the teasing until we’re home in bed, though.”
“It’s a long drive.” Resting her head against the seat back, her smile in place and her gaze steady on his face, she withdrew her hand. “Maybe I’ll just tell you what I’d like to do to you, instead.”
“I’m game.” Hell, he was already half-hard.
Sahara wasn’t one to do anything halfway, and the woman was far from reserved. She boldly detailed her seduction, what she’d like to do to him, how and where she’d do it, leaving out nothing.
By the time they got to the agency, Brand could barely think for wanting her. Sahara’s brand of foreplay nearly torched him.
Yet he still noticed the man standing across from the parking garage, half in the shadow of a shop overhang, his demeanor watchful—until he spotted Brand. Then he became more alert.
Briefly, their gazes held as Brand drove past, but short of stopping in the middle of the road, Brand had no choice but to turn into the garage. As he did so, he glanced into the rearview mirror—and saw no one.
“What?” Sahara asked, giving up her lurid description of where she would kiss him. She twisted to look back through the rearview window. “What’s wrong?”
“Probably nothing,” Brand said. “I saw...someone. He seemed to be watching the agency.”
Frowning, she said, “Describe him.”
“Hard to do. Tall, wearing a hoodie. He was mostly in shadow, away from the lights.”
“I don’t see anyone.”
“Yeah, he disappeared after I spotted him.” Or after he spotted us.
“The man who kidnapped me was enormous. As big as you.”
“This guy looked a little shorter. I’d say six feet tall or so.”
Sahara lost interest. “Not our guy, then.”
Brand wasn’t convinced, so he stayed aware as they entered the building, pausing to speak to the guard. Much as he’d like to get hold of the bastard who’d taken her, he’d rather not do it with Sahara present.
He’d feel better once he had her secure in the suite.
They stepped inside, and as he locked the door, Sahara was busy shedding clothes. He turned and found her stripped down to her bra and panties.
She had a thing for fine lingerie, and looked fucking gorgeous in it.
“In a rush?” Brand asked.
“After all that teasing?” She reached back to open her bra, then dropped it over a chair with her clothes. “Aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” he murmured, letting his gaze move over her. With her hands up to free her hair, she looked even more slender. But she had an inner strength that left him awed.
Standing there against the door, Brand toed off his shoes, bent to remove his socks, then stripped off his shirt. Watching Sahara, he moved to the couch and sat down. “I remember every word you said, everything you promised.”
“Mmm.” She smiled as she came to stand before him. “So do I.”
“Take off your panties.”
“You’re still wearing your jeans.”
Yeah, they’d stay on a while longer—at least until he got her off. After all the verbal foreplay, he didn’t trust his control, but he could see in the flush of Sahara’s skin, the tightness of her nipples, that she needed release.
Her teasing had teased her also.
“Take them off, Sahara.”
She hesitated, but only for a second. “So I’m to be naked while you’re not? Does that mean you plan to touch me?”
“It does.”
Her smile warmed. “I can handle that.” She peeled off the tiny strip of lace she called underwear.
Brand patted his thighs. “Come here.”
When she started to sit on his lap, he stopped her, using his hands to guide her over his thighs so that she straddled him instead. With his hands on her narrow back, he bent her toward him—and latched onto her left nipple, sucking strongly.
The pleasure was so keen, she almost lurched away.
He enjoyed saying, “Stay still.”
“Brand,” she moaned.
“Shh.” He switched to the other nipple, sucking, licking, leaving it as ripe as the left. He liked the way Sahara squirmed, the little sounds she made, how her fingers clenched in his hair.
Kissing a trail to her throat, he murmured, “I love how you taste.” He drifted his hands down her back to her hips, rocking her against the ridge of his erection beneath worn denim. Once she caught his rhythm, he went back to touching her, kissing her. He curved both hands over the globes of her ass, kneading the firm flesh. “Will you like how I taste?”
Arrested, she shuddered and said, “Should I find out?”
“Yeah.” Hell yeah. “Sounds like a plan.” Holding her arms just above her elbows, he eased her back and off his thighs, then urged her down to her knees.
Looking even more excited, Sahara said, “Now you’ll take off your jeans?”
He shook his head, slumped into the couch, and stretched his arms out along the back. “You can unzip them.”
Sahara licked her lips and smiled. “This feels like a challenge.” Her fingers touched the snap to his jeans. “I like it.”
He liked it, too, especially the part of seeing Sahara on her knees in front of him, naked. Brand tried to relax, but every muscle in his body tensed as she opened the snap and slowly, agonizingly drew down his zipper.
Being the diabolical woman that she was, she leaned down and nuzzled against his stomach, her fingers playing over his erection. When he shifted slightly, she quickly opened the material and freed him from his boxers.
Her small hands encircled him and she pressed a soft kiss to the head.
Brand nearly groaned, but he enjoyed the game too much to give it up this quickly. “Stroke me.”
With a sly smile, she whispered, “Yes, sir.”
Damn, she was even better at the game than he was. He’d never survive—especially when her grip tightened and she started a slow, firm stroke up and down his length.
He pressed his feet hard to the floor, bracing himself against the pleasure.
Her breath teased over him, and she asked, “Okay if I kiss you now, too?”
Taking in her tumbled hair, the heat in her beautiful blue eyes and the rosy glow to her skin, he nodded. “As long as you use your tongue.”
God, she did. With a throaty purr, she licked around him, her tongue hot and wet, and then slid her lips down and over him, taking more and more until she closed her mouth on him.
Unable to bite back the groan, Brand tangled both hands in her hair and drew her closer.
She braced her hands on his upper thighs, her head bobbing slowly as she made him insane. His lust churned; the need to release burned inside him.
He kept one hand cupped on the back of her head, and with the other, he reached under her to find her breasts. She was so soft all over, so sleek and sexy... Deeper and deeper she took him until he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“That’s enough.”
“Mmm,” she said against his dick, so that even the small murmur felt like a hot caress.
“Sahara.” It wasn’t easy since he really didn’t want to stop, but he got her mouth off him when he said, “I want to be inside you.”
Lifting dazed eyes, she stared at him. “But I could—”
“No doubt. But not this time.” He caught her upper arms. “Come up here.” Shoving his jeans lower, he completely freed himself, then found his wallet and the condom inside it. He handed it to Sahara. “You do the honors.”
Smiling, she flipped it a few times, then tore it open with her teeth.
He enjoyed watching her, the way her thick hair swung down around her face when she bent to the task, how her breasts moved, the flex of her nimble fingers. Letting her put the rubber on him was its own form of sweet torture.
“Now,” he growled, at the end of his control. “Ride me.”
Excitement sparked in her eyes. “Oooh, that sounds more like me being the boss again.” She came up to her knees, one hand holding him, and started to sink down.
Brand clasped her hips. “Slowly.” At the same time, he leaned in and gently caught her nipple with his teeth.
Gasping, she stroked him against her wet heat, but he held her so she couldn’t rush things. By small degrees, her body slid down his length and when finally she held all of him, he kept her still, further teasing.
“Brand,” she moaned, her inner muscles squeezing tight. “Please.”
Seeing her like this, so needy, wanting him so badly, satisfied something deep inside him. “Okay.”
The second the word left his mouth, Sahara kissed him hard and began rolling her hips. Brand helped her, guiding her, lifting into her, faster and harder, deeper, and when she tipped her head back and cried out, he joined her.
God, it was good. So good.
He was still trying to catch his breath when Sahara collapsed against him, her cheek on his chest, head under his chin, body lax.
He couldn’t imagine anyone being more compatible with him in bed. But then, on a very basic level, he’d always known the sex would be incredible.
Today, though, she’d shown how nicely she meshed with his folks, too, while still staying true to herself. Sahara didn’t try to fit in. She didn’t have to.
She was perfect as is.
* * *
SAHARA AWOKE THE next morning with a nudge from Brand. She stretched, yawned and opened her eyes to see him standing there in boxers, beard shadow and holding a cup of coffee.
How could a man look so good? She smiled. “Good morning.”
Brand handed her the coffee in bed, then asked, “What did you have planned with Becky?”
Wow. So she’d managed to distract him last night, only to have him jump right back to it first thing in the morning? She glanced at the clock. It was only seven fifteen.
Unlike many people, she woke sharp, so she sipped her coffee, then said, “I promised to take her shopping.”
A black scowl marred his handsome face. Mouth tight, he bit out, “No.”
“Now, Brand—”
“I told you not to interfere.”
Uh-oh. He sounded far angrier than she’d expected him to be. Trying to explain that she’d been acting in his best interest wouldn’t work. Currently, he didn’t look receptive to any explanations. It’s why she’d chosen to admit to the shopping trip she’d planned, but not the makeover.
She could find a way around shopping...
“I’m sorry.”
Standing away from the bed, his face set, Brand folded his arms. “Why do I have trouble believing that?”
Easy enough to answer. “Because I’m headstrong and usually determined to get my way.” Placing the coffee on the nightstand, she swung her bare legs over the side of the mattress. “Please believe me that I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
His hand slashed through the air. “It’s not about hurting me.”
Of course it was. Men like Brand didn’t want to discuss emotions or feelings, but she knew his mother’s betrayal had cut deep. How could it not? Gently, she promised, “I won’t take her shopping.”
Reluctantly, his gaze went over her body. “It’s fucking unfair of you, Sahara. How can I argue when you look like that?”
Relief took the knots out of her stomach. “I was hoping you couldn’t.” She brushed back her hair and tried a tentative smile. “We have forty-five minutes before I have to be at work.”
He groaned—then took the two big steps necessary to reach her. “I need ten.”
“That works for me.” She’d have to really rush it, but she’d manage.
“God, you make me nuts.”
Before she could reply to that, Sahara found herself thoroughly kissed, her body stroked all over, and then Brand bent her over the edge of the bed and took her hard and fast. Her fists grabbed the sheets, anchoring herself as pleasure pounded through her.
More than that single sip of coffee would have been nice.
But sex with a scruffy, hard-bodied hottie? That beat the hell out of coffee as a wake-me-up any day.
Precisely ten minutes later, her body still humming, Brand carried her into the bathroom and set her on her trembling legs.
Leaning against the door frame, he asked, “Anything I can do to help?”
“You’ve done enough,” she promised him.
He smiled. “I’ll warm your coffee.”
“Thank you.” She took a two-minute shower, brushed her teeth and was rushing through eye makeup when someone rang the doorbell.
She stalled.
At the same time that she realized it had to be Leese, Miles or Justice, it hit her that she and Brand had left their clothes thrown all over the entry.
Oh crap.
Dashing out of the bathroom, she shouted, “Wait...” then slipped to a halt on the polished floor when she saw all three of the men standing inside the door.
Looking around.
Brand followed their gazes, and an “oh” expression hit his face. He shrugged an apology to Sahara and, pretending it didn’t matter, said, “Come on in. Sahara is scrambling to get ready for work. We’re running a little late today.”
Brand had pulled on fresh jeans and a casual black button-up...that he hadn’t yet buttoned. He hadn’t yet shaved either, but his hair was damp, so she assumed he’d caught a shower as well.
When the silence penetrated, she tore her gaze away from Brand and found the other three staring at her. “What?”
Justice cleared his throat. “You look nice with your hair down.”
“That’s what I told her,” Brand said. Then bold as you please, he walked over and gave her a kiss. “I’ll put on more coffee. Why don’t you guys come into the kitchen so Sahara can finish up?”
“Wait,” Sahara said. “They’re here for a reason, right?”
“I don’t know.” Brand looked at them. “Something up?”
Leese shook off the stupor. “Yeah, actually. We have something to share.”
“Should have waited until she made it to the office, though,” Miles said. “I told them that, but did they listen?”
“Apparently not.” Sahara strode around the living room snatching up articles of clothing—including her bra and panties, which, thankfully, were with her dress over the back of a chair rather than on the floor. She planned to wear the same shoes, so she stepped into them. “Give me thirty seconds before anyone says anything. And, Justice, would you let Enoch know I’m going to be a few minutes late?”
“Sure thing.”
“You’re the best.” She hustled down the hall to the bedroom, dumping the clothes inside. Going into the bathroom and bending at the waist, she flipped her hair forward, secured it with a band, and then twisted it around to form a casual chignon. She slipped in earrings, gave her makeup one last look and joined the men.
Brand was looking at something on Leese’s laptop and she gasped. “You started without me!”
Brand pulled out a chair for her and handed her coffee. “It’s photos from the security cam at your house.”
“It dawned on me,” Justice said, “that I might find some footage of those landscapers.”
“Did you?” She hurriedly gazed at the laptop. All she saw was the back of a head.
“That’s the thing.” Leese crowded in next to Brand and rolled several photos past the screen.
Sahara frowned. The back of a head, back of a head, arm up blocking the face, head down and turned away and another back of the head. “It’s almost as if they knew where the cameras were and avoided them.”
“Exactly.” Miles helped himself to coffee. “Every shot’s like that.”
“The big question, then, is do you know them?”
She shook her head at Justice. “It’s hard to judge body size, but I don’t think it’s the men who took me. None of them are big enough to be the main guy, and the others just seem wrong.”
Brand said, “You transferred those photos to her?”
“Yeah. They’ll be in her files, waiting for her.” Leese closed the laptop. “I sent them to you, too, Brand. The two of you can maybe enhance them, blow them up a little, whatever.”
Justice finished his coffee. “You coming to the office now?”
She glanced at Brand. “I’m ready.” But what would he be doing for the day? “What about you?”
“I have some errands to run. I’ll be back in time for lunch if you’re free.”
Just that easily, he brightened her morning. Amazing that the idea of lunch with a man—a man she’d slept with last night and again this morning—could make her so happy. “Come with me to the office and we’ll ask Enoch.”
At the office, the other men splintered off, Miles and Leese with assignments, Justice with time to hit the range and work out. After Enoch told her she had time for lunch at noon, Brand still followed her into her office, waiting until Enoch finished going over the day’s appointments for her.
Once they were alone, Brand said, “About that party this Saturday.”
“You’ve changed your mind? You don’t want to go now?”
“You leap to the oddest assumptions.”
It didn’t seem all that odd to her. Brand had been furious about her making arrangements with Becky—and he didn’t even know the whole of it. “Sorry. What about it?”
“How fancy will it be?”
A new thought occurred to her. “If you need me to buy you a suit—”
His finger pressed to her lips. “One, I own several suits. Two, even if I didn’t, I sure as hell wouldn’t let you buy one for me. Three, I just need to know if we’re talking dress casual, a suit or a tux.”
Sahara stared up at him, waiting for him to remove his finger so she could reply.
Instead, he traced her lips, then bent to kiss her. It was a brief, gentle touch, and it stole her breath away.
“What’s it to be?” he asked.
“Do you own a tux?”
He grinned. “No, but I know how to rent one.”
She smoothed her hands over his shirt. He looked very handsome in the black shirt, a brown cargo jacket over it. He still hadn’t shaved, but she liked the rugged look on him. “I’ll certainly dress up, as I suspect most of the women will.” She loved dressing in her finest clothes. “But you’ll be fine in either dress casual or a suit. Up to you. Douglas Grant wears suits every day as the DA, so for parties he’s usually pretty casual. When it comes to the men, I wouldn’t be surprised to see some of them in jeans.”
“I’ll find some middle ground, then.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “You’re going to be here all day?”
“Yes. But eventually I’ll need to get back to my house to pick out my clothes and shoes and jewelry.”
“I’ll go with you for that.”
“It should be fine now—”
He cupped her face. “I’ll go with you.”
“All right. I’d like that.”
After one more touch of his mouth to hers, Brand stepped away. “See you for lunch.”
Oh, how she loved the progress with her relationship.
She watched Brand leave, then moved to her desk and called for Enoch. He’d be able to locate a stylist willing to do a house call for Becky.
After she got that done, she’d fit in some online shopping. If she couldn’t take Becky to the stores, she’d have to bring the stores to Becky.
One way or another, she was determined to help Brand.
And to do that, she had to help his mother to get on with her life.
* * *
THE LAST FEW days of the week went by in a happy blur. Brand had lunch with her twice, and each night they enjoyed dinner together. Between them they came up with meal plans that were both delicious and semihealthy. Brand hadn’t yet committed to a fight, but neither had he committed to Body Armor.
She was a little afraid to press him, which was totally unlike her. Her true nature was full-steam ahead, but for the first time in her life, she felt...tentative.
Her time with Brand was so good she didn’t want to rock the boat.
Of course, when he saw his mother, the boat might not only rock, it could capsize.
The stylist had visited Becky and done an amazing job. Her hair had stunning highlights and a new cut that better suited the shape of her face. Her new makeup showcased all her best features, features she shared with her son, like her dark eyes, long lashes and high cheekbones.
In the middle of an important meeting Sahara had gotten first one text, then another and another, all of them selfies from a very pleased Becky. The clothes had arrived, too. Becky was disappointed that they couldn’t go out to shop, but still overjoyed with what Sahara had chosen for her. In one of the photos, Sahara could see that Becky wore a new outfit.
Sahara knew she had good taste, and she was a decent judge of character, so she’d pegged Becky as someone who would react positively to gifts that showed off her figure and made her feel more like a desirable woman.
Not that she’d discuss it with Brand. No, a son wouldn’t want to think that way about his mother—especially a mostly estranged mother.
She was determined that she’d visit with Becky again, but first she wanted to enjoy her hectic weekend.
She’d just closed out her computer when Brand stuck his head in the door.
“Enoch said you were done for the day.”
“Enoch is always correct,” she replied, already coming out from behind her desk. She paused to stretch her aching shoulders. “I’ve finally gone through every contact I could find associated with my brother.”
“And?” Brand turned her and began gently kneading the tensed muscles in her neck and shoulders.
Sahara tipped her head back, eyes closed. “Nothing. I couldn’t find a single man who even resembled my kidnapper.”
“I’m not sure I like you referring to him as yours.” Brand kissed the side of her throat.
“I didn’t mean it affectionately, but I’m very invested in this. Territorial, maybe. I want to find him. I want revenge.”
“And you want to know what he knows about your brother.”
“Exactly.” She needed to know. It was always there, chewing on her peace of mind. How could Scott have any association with a vile kidnapper?
“You’re getting tense again.” His fingers carefully pressed deep, working her, almost forcing her to relax.
“You’re good at that.” She twisted to see him, eyeing the trim beard he had now. She liked it. “You’re good at everything, aren’t you?”
He smiled. “If we take this upstairs, I can show you just how good I am—with a proper massage.”
“Proper, huh?” She groaned and collapsed back against him. “Tempting as that is, I have to go to my house tonight. I need to get my party clothes for tomorrow.”
“All right. I can take you there now.”
She beamed at him. “It’s like having my very own hot chauffeur, who’s also a sexy roommate and a kickass bodyguard.”
“I’m a jack-of-all-trades.” As she went to get her coat and purse, he added, “It’s starting to rain and the temps have dropped. Want me to warm up the car?”
“Thank you, but it’s not necessary.” She turned up the collar. “We’ll go from the parking garage to the garage at my house. It’ll be fine.”
On the way out, Brand called Leese to let him know their plans. “Just to be on the safe side,” he said. Brand still wasn’t convinced that it was just a bystander who’d locked eyes with him a few days ago, or that it hadn’t been the kidnappers at the house pretending to be landscapers.
Sahara didn’t think it was, not after studying the security cam photos and seeing no resemblance to the body types. Still, she appreciated Brand’s caution. In so many ways, he’d make an ideal bodyguard, his instincts already perfectly aligned for the job.
As usual since the kidnapping, Brand stayed alert to their surroundings, even on the drive to the house. All looked quiet as they drove in, but then, the guys had taken turns randomly stopping by to check on things. Anyone watching the house would have realized that Sahara wasn’t there, and it was well scrutinized for intruders.
When they stepped inside, Sahara glanced around in surprise. Somehow the house felt even bigger...and emptier.
Brand peeled off his jacket, laying it over the volute at the bottom of the handrail. “I still can’t believe you live alone in this place.”
“I know.” Her heart beat a little faster when she looked up the long stairs and at the dim landing at the top. “I used to feel completely safe here, but after being in the suite, this place feels... I don’t know.” She shivered and said, “Vacant.”
Brand slipped his arm around her. “You were attacked in this house. It makes sense for you to feel differently here now. You won’t be here alone. Not for a very long time.” He got her moving. “Not until you’re ready.”
Was Brand already looking for an end date to their relationship? She hoped not, but even if he was, she wouldn’t return here. She’d stay in the suite...which would also feel empty without Brand in it.
How had she gotten so attached to him, so quickly?
She leaned against his side. “Don’t ever tell anyone, but I’m a little spooked.”
“I’ll be right here with you.” He kissed her temple. “And honey, you know it’s okay to be human, right? No one expects otherwise.”
“I do,” she admitted. “I expect a lot of myself. And usually I can deliver.” If Brand weren’t with her, would she make herself go through the house alone? Maybe. But she was glad she didn’t have to.
It didn’t take her long to choose a dress, find shoes and a wrap to match, then locate complementary jewelry.
When she opened the jewelry case disguised as a mirror on the wall, Brand whistled.
“That’s a lot of bling.”
She grinned. “Scott gave me most of it. Birthdays and Christmas and stuff like that. Some of it is older, handed down through the family. And a few pieces I bought myself.”
“That’s a handy place to hide it all.”
She gestured at the standing jewelry case, as tall as her dresser. “I have a lot of other pieces there, but the expensive stuff is better kept out of sight.” She picked out a ruby-and-diamond choker with matching drop earrings. After she’d placed everything in a small carrying case, she said, “I’m ready if you are.” More than ready. With the oddest feeling of being watched, she was anxious to be on her way.
Brand took the case from her, holding it in one hand and taking her hand with the other.
* * *
RAKING A HAND through his hair in frustration, he turned away from the small camera. “I don’t like it.” An understatement: he fucking well hated it. “She’s entirely too close to him.”
His cohort shrugged. “What do you have against him?”
“For starters, I don’t know him, and that’s unacceptable. I want every detail you can dig up on him. Everything from his friends and family to his favorite candy bar. Start with a criminal background check, his job and his bank account. How much money does he have, where does he spend it, how does he spend his leisure time.”
“I’ll get started on it tomorrow.”
“Tonight. I need to know something about him before she goes to the party.” He rubbed his chin and turned back to the camera, watching as she and the big man left the foyer. “I need to know what I’m up against—and how best to get rid of him.”