CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SAHARA COULDN’T REMEMBER ever being so tired. After a lot of talking to the police, and then a visit to the hospital, the night had dragged on into dawn before they finally headed home.
At the emergency room, a physician checked her, Scott and Brand, but no one was seriously hurt. Scott’s arm was cleaned and more properly bandaged. Luckily, neither Brand nor Scott had a concussion, but given their scowls, they both had killer headaches.
She got a tetanus shot after Brand noticed the deep scratch on the back of her calf from the rusty edge of the boat. One of the doctors found her a pair of scrub pants to wear. They were far more comfortable than the blanket.
Against her objections, Scott planned to spend the night at the house. She’d have rather kept him at the suite with her, where she could ensure he wouldn’t disappear again, but then, he and Brand weren’t exactly seeing eye to eye, so perhaps a little time was in order. In any case, she didn’t have the energy to argue about it.
They would all meet up at the office at noon, hopefully better rested.
For a while there, adrenaline had carried her through, but as soon as they arrived at the agency, she crashed. She could barely get one foot in front of the other.
The night guards watched warily as Brand, with an arm around her, helped her to the elevator. To everyone they passed, Brand said, “She’s fine, but it was a hell of a night. Sahara can explain tomorrow.”
She’d made many friends at the agency, she realized. These people cared about her. That was nice.
Of course, she wouldn’t be their boss any longer. She’d always known that when Scott returned, everything would change again.
Exhaustion kept her smile dim, but it was there.
Her brother was home.
Maybe she’d find a way to stay involved in the agency, but if it didn’t work out, she was okay with that.
She had everything she needed.
Inside the elevator, she turned her face up to see Brand. His expression remained stark.
She touched his jaw. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
If anything, his mood further darkened. “Yeah.” He bent and pressed a firm kiss to her forehead. “Do you want a quick shower, or just to hit the bed?”
“Hit the bed,” she said with an inelegant yawn. “I’m not sure I could stay awake for a shower.”
Indulgent, he promised, “We’ll shower together in the morning.”
He got her inside the suite then removed her coat and his own before scooping her up and carrying her to the bedroom.
Her hair had dried in matted clumps, the rain had smeared her makeup, but they were both alive and that’s what mattered. Thinking about all the close calls lately made her start to shake.
Brand methodically stripped her, pulled back the covers and helped her into the bed. She wanted to protest the gentle treatment, but she honestly didn’t have it in her.
She remembered the discussion of strength she’d had with the women. Smiling sleepily, she said, “I see what they mean now.”
“Who?”
“Catalina, Maxi and Fallon.” She snuggled into the pillow and closed her eyes. “Fallon insisted that Justice was stronger than her.”
Brand asked, “That was in doubt?”
She heard one shoe drop, then the other. “We were mostly talking about emotional strength and independence. But Maxi said it’s nice to lean on Miles.” She opened her eyes and found Brand stepping out of his jeans and underwear. He tossed them into the pile with the rest of their discarded clothes. “Thank you for letting me lean on you.”
He got into bed and curved around her, his chest to her back, his arms drawing her snug against him. “Thank you for trusting me.”
She loved him, so of course she trusted him. “Brand?”
“Sleep, Sahara.” He kissed her shoulder. “We’ll have plenty of time to work out all the kinks.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
She was almost out when he whispered, “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
She smiled...and faded into sleep.
* * *
BRAND WAS SO testy he almost didn’t recognize himself. The bruise on Sahara’s cheek had darkened. Combined with the cut on her temple and the scratch on her calf, she looked battered, yet she’d smiled at him as if nothing had happened.
After coffee, where she chatted in her normal way, they’d showered together.
She’d come on to him. She’d actually wanted sex before meeting everyone in the office.
Brand didn’t know what to think about that, but he hadn’t refused her. He didn’t think he ever could.
Hell, he wanted her all the time.
The sex had been a little desperate, at least on her part, as if she needed the physical reassurance in order to face the emotional turmoil ahead. Aware of her injuries, he’d wanted to be careful with her, but she’d been frantic in her demands. He’d gotten her off first with his mouth, then again by sliding into her hard, the pace fast and deep.
Now she was dressed in her usual chic business attire with a formfitting dark skirt that made her ass look great, a cashmere sweater that fit her breasts to perfection and those I’m-the-boss heels. She’d left her hair loose and, other than the scrapes and bruises, she looked like a million bucks.
Like a very sexy million bucks.
As they headed to the office, she continued to chat, about nothing and about weighty decisions.
“I’m starving. I hope Enoch can rustle up some food, but maybe pastry first.”
“Enoch is adaptable. He can manage anything you request.”
“I’ve gotten used to the suite. I think if Scott plans to move back into the house, I’ll just stay here.” She glanced at him, brows lifted in inquiry. “You like the suite, don’t you?”
“Sure.” Was this her way of inviting him to stay? He had his own place, too, but his apartment didn’t hold any sentimental value. He could ditch it without a qualm.
“I wonder if they’ve made any other arrests yet.”
“I imagine they took care of it last night.” Scott claimed that Chelsea Tuttle had arranged his “murder.” It wouldn’t be easy to prove since she hadn’t been on the yacht during the attempt. Considering that Douglas Grant, with all his influence and power as the district attorney, considered her a niece, implicating her might even be impossible.
Right before they stepped into the office, Sahara stopped her chatter and slipped her hand into his.
Brand paused. Seeing her vulnerable last night had been unsettling but he’d recognized it as an aftereffect of being utterly depleted both physically and emotionally.
Today she was back to her usual energetic self, an unstoppable force, a whirlwind...and yet she’d taken his hand as if she needed support.
She had it, of course. Always. But he couldn’t shake off a niggling worry that something wasn’t sitting right with her.
He could have lost her.
Pulling her around to face him, Brand cupped one hand to her warm, satiny cheek. “What’s going on, baby?”
She gave him a wobbly smile. “I guess I’m just a little nervous.”
“Sahara Silver, super shark?” His thumb teased over the corner of her mouth. “Nervous about what?”
She glanced around, saw that they were alone in the outer office and exhaled a big breath. “Everything is up in the air. Now that Scott has returned, what will I do?”
“Do?”
She laughed and dropped her forehead against him, hiding her uncertainty. “This is his business again. I swear, I’m happy to give it up to have him back, but I feel... I don’t know.” She leaned back to search his face, then admitted, “Lost.”
“You’re not lost when you’re with me.”
“Am I with you?” She stared up at him with near desperation. “I know my being the boss was a problem for you. Since I won’t be anymore, maybe—”
Brand leaned down and kissed her. He’d meant it to be a firm smooch of reassurance, but instead he lingered, loving the taste of her mouth, loving everything about her. Against her lips, he promised, “Whatever you do, whether you’re the boss or not, you won’t be rid of me.”
She bit her lip. “Do you mean for the near future, or just for right now, or—”
Enoch opened the door behind them. He seemed inordinately pleased, probably because Sahara finally had her brother back. “Everyone is in the conference room.” He gave Sahara a huge, happy smile. “I already set out coffee and pastries. Anything else you need?”
“Even though it’s lunchtime, I’d love a breakfast sandwich. Do you think you could have one ready for me as soon as we wrap up this meeting?”
“Of course. I’ll call the deli that delivers. They probably have something.”
“Thank you.” She blew a lock of hair out of her face. “It was a really long day yesterday.”
Enoch tilted his head, eyed the bruise on her cheek and nodded. “I’m sure.” He glanced at Brand.
Brand shrugged. How could he reassure Enoch when he was currently so confused himself?
Gently, Sahara said, “I really am fine, both of you. I promise.”
Just as gently, Enoch said, “I’m glad.”
Would she be fine? Brand wondered. What if Sahara’s brother ripped the agency away from her? Where did that leave her? What would Leese, Justice and Miles do if that happened?
He could understand Sahara’s worry, damn it.
Scott stepped out of the room as they approached. His hair, the same color as Sahara’s, hung damn near to his shoulders. His blue eyes were also like hers, only full of cynicism. Again, he opened his arms, and again Sahara hurried to him.
Brand let her go, then stood back. He didn’t give them privacy by going into the conference room, but neither did he interrupt the moment.
Sahara squeezed him tight. “I can’t believe you’re finally back. I never gave up hope.”
“I know.” Scott levered her away, brotherly concern darkening his expression. “You’re okay?”
“Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
He shook his head and said to Brand, “She likes to think she’s invincible.”
“Not really.” Brand stared hard at her brother—and again had to fight the urge to pulverize him. “But she is the strongest person I know.”
Sahara spun around to face him. “Really?”
Leave it to Sahara to like that compliment most of all. “Absolutely.”
“She’s tough,” Scott said with pride. “I’ll give you that.” He looked around. “You changed everything, sis.”
“Yes.”
Brand heard the subdued hesitation in her voice, but Scott paid no attention. “It suits you.”
Sahara took in his black thermal shirt, worn jeans and lace-up boots, and said, “Not sure I can say the same. This whole dressing down thing is a very different look for you. You do realize that all your regular clothes are still at the house?”
Scott grinned. “Somehow, I don’t feel like a suit anymore. All this time I’ve gotten by with only a few pairs of jeans and a half-dozen shirts. It’s a simpler way of life.”
Sahara reached up to smooth his untrimmed hair. “I’ll take your word for it.”
His mouth quirked on one side and his gaze softened. “You’re still a clotheshorse, I see.”
Why did every damn thing he said sound like an insult?
“Of course.” Sahara looked him over again, then nodded. “You know, I think the rugged look suits you.”
Scott hauled her in for another hug. “Damn, but I missed you, sis.”
“I missed you, too. So much.” She touched his unshaven face. “Didn’t you get any rest?”
“Actually, no.”
“But why—”
“So impatient. I’ll explain everything as soon as we get inside.” He grinned down at her. “Come on. I have a lot to tell you.”
“More than what we learned last night?”
“A lot more. I hope you’ll be pleased.” Scott opened the door and waited for her to enter.
She looked back at Brand.
Scott said, “This is company business.”
Voice firm, Sahara replied, “True, but he’s with me.”
Scott studied Brand, as if deciding.
Brand stepped up behind Sahara, his gaze daring Scott to question it.
Instead, Scott shrugged and gestured for them both to precede him.
Once in the conference room, Scott closed the door and strode to the seat at the head of the table—a seat normally reserved for Sahara. A quick glance showed Brand that his friends weren’t happy with the seating arrangement either.
Without missing a beat, Brand took Sahara’s arm and drew her to the opposite end of the long table, then took the chair to her right.
In brooding silence, Justice got up, retrieved the coffee and pastry near Scott’s elbow, and moved to sit at Sahara’s left, offering her the food. “I got this for you.”
Strangely flustered, she murmured, “Thank you,” and bit into the pastry.
Miles followed suit, carrying his coffee down the table to sit next to Brand. Leese got up to take the chair beside Justice. That left three empty seats on each side of Scott.
Oddly enough, the rearranged seating appeared to satisfy her brother. He leaned back in his chair, elbows on the arms, his fingers laced together. Looking down the length of the table, he said to Sahara, “They’re loyal to you.”
She took a fortifying gulp of coffee. “Actually, they’re loyal to the agency. They’re excellent bodyguards, Scott, always in high demand, assets to Body Armor—”
Brand covered her hand. “You don’t need to sell them, honey.”
She abruptly stopped rambling. “No, I don’t.” Chin lifting, she said, “With all the new high-level business we’ve brought in, the results speak for themselves.”
“They do,” Scott said softly. “But I never doubted it, sis. You would only hire the best. I know that.”
The vote of confidence cleared away her frown. “Thank you.”
He segued right into business. “Now, as you know, proving that Chelsea Tuttle plotted to have me killed would be impossible.”
Shooting halfway out of her seat, Sahara flattened her hands on the table. “You can’t give up! I won’t let her get away with this. One way or another, I’m going to see that woman—”
“Down, killer.” Scott laughed. “You’re always so ferocious.”
“It’s not funny,” she snapped, some of her natural vitality returning.
“No, I suppose it’s not, but relax, okay? It’s working out, I promise.”
“Oh.” She glanced at everyone with a tinge of embarrassment, then sank back into her chair with a renewed frown. “You better tell me that she’s going to prison for a very long time, because I won’t be satisfied with anything else.”
“All right.” Scott looked only at his sister. “Ross Moran once worked for me. You know that much. I’m not sure if he explained all of it, though.”
“Only that you still owed him money,” Sahara said.
“Very true. Attempted murder has a way of making you forget your debts, at least for a time.”
“And that the two of you had grown close?”
“I trusted Ross,” he confirmed.
Leese stared at Scott. “Enough to give him the passcode to your security system?”
Wincing, Scott explained, “He’s actually a security specialist, and yes, after I had a suspicion that I was being followed, he did know the code because he helped beef up the system.”
Justice snorted. “I made it better.” His jaw locked. “And unlike the goon you hired, I would never break in and attack Sahara.”
A flush rose up Scott’s neck and his shoulders tightened. “That was unforgivable. He claims to be taken with her—”
“And that justifies attempted rape?” Miles asked.
“If I thought he would have taken it that far,” Scott stated, “I’d kill him myself.”
In a lethally calm tone, Brand said, “I’ll handle that for you.”
Scott glanced at Brand, did a double take over the seriousness of his expression, and frowned. “I already explained things to him.” At that, Scott rubbed his knuckles. “When I found out he’d been in the house, and that he’d gotten out by the tree, I had it trimmed.”
Sahara’s eyes flared. “That was you?”
Disgusted, Scott said, “I’d snuck in to get more money by pretending to be part of a landscaping team.”
“Team?” Justice asked.
“The others with me really were from a landscaping firm.”
“More money?” Brand asked.
Scott gestured dismissively. “I kept gold and silver in a secret vault in the basement. That’s how I funded myself, since I couldn’t access any of my accounts.”
“You snuck in?” Sahara asked, wounded by the possibility. “You were there and never told me?”
“Until I figured out who’d tried to kill me, no one could know I was alive. By not telling you, I protected you.”
“By not telling her,” Brand stated softly, “you left her vulnerable to the likes of Ross Moran and his gang.”
“That was definitely an error in judgment, but how was I to know Ross would get enamored with her?”
Brand narrowed his eyes. “How could you think any man wouldn’t?”
Scott flattened his mouth. “Believe me, he’ll be very careful around her from now on.”
So that there would be no mistakes, Brand sat forward and stated, “He won’t be around her ever again. Period.”
“As to that...” Scott shoved back his chair and began to pace.
Brand didn’t like it, but he knew Sahara well enough to let her handle things—as long as she handled them in a way that satisfied his protective instincts.
“You were wiser than me, Sahara.” Scott glanced at her. “You knew all along that Chelsea Tuttle was trouble.”
“More than trouble,” Sahara muttered. “She’s sick and dangerous and—”
“You remember when she hired guards from the agency?”
“Yes.” Disgust narrowed her eyes. “They reported back that she’d tried to use them in perverted sexual favors.”
Since they hadn’t heard the story yet, Leese, Miles and Justice stared in fascination.
“It seemed so far-fetched at the time,” Scott murmured, “I wasn’t sure what to believe. Overall she seemed spoiled, brazen, but mostly harmless. After she admitted to drinking too much and flirting—which she said they’d misconstrued—I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt.”
“Big mistake,” Sahara said.
“Clearly.” He paused. “Maybe I’m better at judging men than women.”
Brand snorted. Far as he could tell, her brother sucked at that, too.
Ignoring him, Scott said to Sahara, “Chelsea later told me that you’d threatened her.”
“Did she?” Sahara smiled with chilling amusement. “Well, it’s true. And I have plenty of evidence to ruin her socially, even if it doesn’t get her locked up.”
“You told her to quit her games?”
“And to stay away from you.” Anger brought her brows together. “Apparently I didn’t go far enough to impress my intentions on her if she contacted you again after that.”
“Oh, you did. She believed you would ruin her—or worse. She made me swear I wouldn’t tell you about her visit to the agency because she said she feared for her life.”
“Then she’s not as dumb as I assumed.”
“Not dumb, no, but very cunning.” Scott looked at each of the men. “I trust what I say will stay confidential?”
Leese shrugged. “As you already pointed out, we’re loyal to Sahara.”
“We wouldn’t say or do anything to hurt her,” Justice added.
“You all work for Body Armor and that gives you certain credibility.” He turned thoughtfully toward Brand. “You, however, are an outsider.”
Brand smiled at the absurdity of that.
Before he could say anything, Miles spoke up. “He’s not officially a bodyguard, but you’d be an idiot not to see how protective he is of her.”
“It’s because I’m not an idiot that I’m being cautious.”
Sahara cast a worried glance at first Miles and then Brand. “You can speak freely, Scott. I plan to. I have complete trust in everyone here.”
Scott’s skeptical gaze lingered on Brand a moment longer. “We’ll talk about your role soon.”
With soft menace, Brand said, “I’ll look forward to it.”
Throwing up her hands, Sahara said, “That’s enough from both of you. We have bigger issues than macho pride.” She glared at her brother. “Spit it out already.”
Scott finally drew his gaze from Brand’s. After running a hand through his hair, he said, “Chelsea wanted Body Armor to provide security during a special event she had planned. Of course, she wasn’t exactly forthcoming on the type of event. She just wanted assurance that no one interrupted by hiring bodyguards to protect the perimeter of the property.”
“Ross told me part of this,” Sahara said, “but at the time I didn’t realize he was talking about Chelsea.”
“He knew not to mention it, not even to you. Especially to you. I told him I wanted you kept out of it completely.”
She stiffened. “You excluded me.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
Leese said, “So while you were keeping her in the dark, she was taking matters into her own hands.”
“Yes.” Scott gave a rueful laugh. “Knowing my sister, I should have realized what she would do.”
“Yeah,” Miles said. “You should have.”
“I could have told you,” Justice added with a snort.
Sahara rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t have kept things from me, period. I would have known how to deal with her. I’m not inept.”
“No, you’re not,” Scott assured her. “In fact, it was your reaction to Chelsea that first tipped me off and made me suspicious. I knew I had to figure out what was going on.” He took his seat again. “She was already familiar with all our bodyguards, so if they got caught surveilling her, it’d come back to the agency. Since I didn’t want that, I had to hire other men.”
“Ross Moran,” Sahara said with dawning awareness. “You hired him and his crew, didn’t you?”
Justice made a sound of disgust.
“Couldn’t have found someone ethical?” Miles asked.
Brand kept quiet, focused solely on Sahara and her reactions. Little by little, she was more herself, back in fighting form, and that pleased him. He just hoped her brother didn’t deliver a final blow.
“Someone ethical to snoop on the niece of a prominent public figure? A woman known for her sexual deviation? A woman who operated with immunity, who apparently bought off anyone who otherwise would have complained? Yeah, where would I find a guy like that?”
Miles, Leese and Justice each raised a hand.
“None of you were here at the time.”
“Because Sahara hadn’t yet taken over the hiring,” Leese pointed out.
Impatient, Sahara shushed Leese with a lift of her hand, then said to her brother, “Ross told me that your instincts were uncanny, so I’m guessing he discovered something?”
Scott picked up his coffee to take a sip. He spoke quietly, not looking at anyone. “Chelsea was throwing big parties where young, desperate prostitutes—women with nowhere to turn—were corralled together for the sport of all in attendance. She called it her gladiator games.”
Sahara clenched her hands into fists on the tabletop. “She’s gotten worse since I gathered my own recordings of her.”
Brand’s stomach twisted... Since I gathered my own recordings... Dear God. Chelsea was sicker than he’d ever imagined—and Sahara hadn’t just hired someone to track the psycho, as she’d implied earlier. No, she’d done that herself.
The risks she took left him in a futile rage.
“Jesus,” Leese muttered, staring at her.
“That’s how you planned to ruin her?” Justice asked with horror. “You snuck around behind a twisted chick who’s into pain, and you recorded her?”
“Yes.”
Miles sat forward, his expression fierce. “I know you, Sahara. You wouldn’t have stood by and let it happen just to get evidence.”
“No, I didn’t. But at the time I had promised Chelsea that if she quit her games and stayed away from my brother, all the details would remain private.” She turned to Brand. “She broke the deal, so now I’m not held to it either.”
“Agreed,” he said softly, still reeling from the danger she’d chased.
Sahara drew a deep breath, released it slowly, then admitted, “While they were all busy enjoying someone else’s pain, I snuck around the property and set off her fire alarms.”
Scott lifted a brow. “That’s genius.”
Brand wanted to slug her brother for encouraging her.
Shrugging, Sahara said, “It worked. In minutes, police and firemen were arriving, but I already had at least a minute or two of very incriminating evidence. I made sure Chelsea knew that I had several copies.” She looked at her brother squarely. “If you can’t prove anything against her, I certainly can.”
Laughing, Scott rubbed his eyes, “You’re terrifying, you know that, right?”
“I know how to take care of business.”
This business, Brand wanted to say—just in case her brother had missed that significant fact.
“That’s obvious.” Scott sat back. “To stall, I agreed to provide services for Chelsea’s party. Of course, I had no intention of involving Body Armor, but I needed a strategy. While Ross was working his angle, I decided to distance myself by going out on the yacht with a girlfriend.”
“And that’s when Chelsea struck?” Sahara whispered.
“Men came aboard. You already know that they never recovered my date’s body.” Scott turned away, his gaze on the windows overlooking the city. “She and I weren’t close, but I should have protected her.”
“How many men were there?” Justice asked.
“Four, maybe five. They came aboard without my hearing them. We were sitting on the deck, enjoying the night, listening to music, and then suddenly they were there.”
Sahara huffed. “I should have taken care of her long ago.”
For some women, that would be an empty boast. Not for Sahara.
To soothe her, Brand brushed his thumb over her knuckles. “I’d rather you not kill anyone.”
“And I’d rather she wasn’t involved at all,” Scott said.
Shifting with annoyance, Sahara said, “You’re both doomed to disappointment, because it’s clear that we have to do something.”
“Can you ID the men who attacked you?” Leese asked.
Scott shook his head. “It was dark and it all happened so fast. I might recognize their voices, but I just don’t know.”
Justice said. “So we still need proof.”
Scott actually smiled. “I believe Ross has it. For two weeks prior to the event, he and his men gathered intel for me, not only on Chelsea, but also on those people included on her guest list.”
“Douglas Grant?” Sahara asked.
“Oddly, no. Maybe because he really does feel related to her even though they don’t share blood, and maybe deep down he possesses a few vague ethics, but he’s never been involved with any of her sexual escapades.”
Brand had a hard time wrapping his brain around the implications. “You’re saying Sahara’s kidnapper has info, so he might get a free pass?”
Scott looked at Sahara. “Ross managed to record quite a bit of Chelsea’s activity. He found correspondence talking about the event, what they do, how many women to expect as playthings. Even where and how they got the women.” With a note of admiration, Scott added, “He’s really pretty good at what he does.”
Sahara gave it quick thought. “If he can bury Chelsea—”
Leese, Justice and Miles all issued protests at the same time.
Sahara turned to Brand, saying softly, “He really didn’t hurt me, you know.”
“It’s not happening.”
Anxious now, she insisted, “Taking down Chelsea is far more important than seeing Ross pay.”
“Hell, no.”
Scott cleared his throat. “There’s more to consider. As it happens, Douglas Grant also hired Ross to kill a man. Giving Ross immunity, or at least a plea deal of some sort, means we get a two-for-one.”
“We can destroy both Chelsea and Douglas?” Sahara asked with excitement.
“I think so.”
“Then it’s a done deal,” she said with finality.
“Excuse us.” Utilizing every ounce of control he had, Brand stood, gently took Sahara’s arm and headed toward the door of the conference room.
Sahara didn’t resist him, but on their way, she said over her shoulder, “We’ll be right back. Don’t talk about anything important without me!”
* * *
SAHARA UNDERSTOOD THAT Brand was upset, and she decided it wouldn’t hurt to calm him before they proceeded. By seeking privacy from the others, he’d given her the perfect opportunity to see to it.
Enoch looked up as they emerged from the conference room, his smile freezing in place when he got a look at Brand’s face.
“Ahem.” Enoch stood. “I think I’ll see if we need more coffee.” As he passed Sahara, he murmured, “Think long-term, please.”
Sahara smiled at him. “That’s my plan.” As soon as Enoch disappeared into the room, she gave her attention to Brand.
Fury shone from his dark eyes, but she knew it wasn’t directed at her. No, he was just that worried about her safety, and his concern warmed her.
Putting a hand to his jaw, she asked softly, “Are you ever going to shave?”
The question surprised him. “Maybe every couple of weeks.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “So you’ll be semibearded, then clean-shaven, only to become semibearded again?”
He covered her hand on his jaw. “I’m not into a lot of grooming.”
“Since you look sexy all scruffy, I guess that’s okay.”
“I’ll never be a fancy dresser either.”
“Fancy dressing isn’t required.” She leaned in and kissed him, then whispered against his firm mouth, “Ross won’t hurt me.”
Closing his hands over her upper arms, he stepped her back so she couldn’t miss his heated glare. “You can’t know that.”
“If I was relying on Ross’s honor, I’d agree. But I know Scott, and I know you.” She searched his gaze. “Neither of you would let him near me.”
“Damn right—although I can’t speak for your brother since he’s the one wanting to let the bastard skate.”
His grumbling tone worried her. “Scott has deliberately tried to annoy you.” She lowered her voice to a serious whisper. “That’s how he chased off other boyfriends.”
Brand tipped up her chin. “I’ll deal with your brother, don’t worry about that. The rest of this, though—”
“It’s important to me, Brand.” She moved closer, staring up at him, willing him to see it from her perspective. “I want Chelsea to pay. She’s an awful person, a cruel, manipulative sadist. As if that wasn’t enough already, she tried to take my brother from me.” Sahara brushed her mouth over his. “And to see Douglas lose his authority... God, I’d love that so much.”
Stubbornly, Brand insisted, “There has to be another way.”
“If there was, don’t you think I’d have found it by now? Powerful people don’t go down easy. It takes a lot.” She wound her arms around his neck. “This might be the only chance we have.”
In ill humor, Brand grumbled, “Damn it, Sahara.”
“You know I’m right,” she insisted. “You know this is important.” Imploring him, she added, “Especially to me.”
He groaned.
Knowing he gave in, her heart lifted. Softly, she whispered, “Thank you for understanding.”
The office entry door opened and Ross Moran started in. When he saw Sahara and Brand, he drew up short.
“Sahara.” He actually started to smile.
She hastily stepped in front of Brand. “You have new bruises,” she pointed out. “Did Scott do that?”
Ross touched his cheek. “Some of it.” His gaze went over her head to Brand. “I already had most of them.”
“And yet,” Brand said, “here you are.”
He looked at Sahara. “I wasn’t aware my men were acting without me. You have to believe that.”
“I do,” she said. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t make much difference to me.”
“We should talk—”
“Seriously?” Brand laughed without humor. “Apparently you’re a slow learner...but I can help you with that.”
Warily, Ross eyed Brand. “Scott is expecting me.”
Finding a new direction for his anger, Brand set Sahara aside. “That’s Scott’s problem.”
Sahara grabbed Brand when he started forward. “Brand, no.”
“Afraid so.”
Panicked, she saw the resignation on Ross’s face, Brand’s determined stride and she knew she couldn’t stop this. “Damn you two, don’t you dare damage my building!”
Ross opened the door for Brand with a grand gesture. Without slowing his stride, Brand grabbed him and shoved him out first, then followed and quietly closed the door behind him.
Frozen in place, Sahara stared at the closed door. A second later, she heard a loud thump, one more followed by a groan, then the wall shook as if a body had hit it.
The sounds of combat unglued her feet. She turned and ran into the conference room, her gaze sweeping over everyone. “Ross is here and Brand just took him out to the hall!”
Scott looked up, startled.
Enoch grinned.
Leese took Sahara’s arm. “Have a seat, okay? Brand won’t be long.”
Damn it! “What if Ross is armed?”
Miles said, “It won’t help him any.”
“Might just make Brand madder,” Justice said with relish.
“Oh my God, you’re all insane.” She started to stand, but the guys surrounded her.
Justice even patted her shoulder. “Give them five minutes, okay? You can be patient that long.”
She looked across the table and locked eyes with her brother. He’d lifted his eyebrows high in disbelief. And why not? Not only were these men unlike any they’d encountered before, but they were employees who cosseted her like a helpless female.
Grim, she shoved to her feet and said to the walls of muscle surrounding her, “Move.”
Reluctantly, they each stepped aside.
Enoch rushed forward to fill the void. “Now, Sahara—”
“I won’t wait here like the proverbial little woman while Brand destroys a key witness that we need to get this all settled.”
“He won’t kill him,” Leese said. “That’s not what this is about.”
“He’s only going to point out the error of his ways,” Miles said.
Justice added, “He needs to make it clear that you’re off-limits, that’s all.”
Being off-limits would mean that she and Brand had a commitment, and so far, they didn’t. What they had was an agreement.
In any case, Brand didn’t need to clear up anything with Ross because she had zero interest in any other man, but most especially a man who had kidnapped her and threatened her. Damn it, he should have trusted her to have enough sense to—
The conference door opened and Brand strolled back in, interrupting her silent rant. His shoulders were bunched, the muscles in his arms bulging, but he looked calm, calmer than he had all day.
He was even smiling.