by Lori Foster
It clicked on silently.
Since the room was behind her, the sudden bright light didn’t blind her.
Her intruder wasn’t so lucky. The glare hit his face and he flinched, lifting an arm.
He stood only a few feet from her!
She’d known his voice, and now she recognized his size, but it was the first time she’d seen him without the disguise. Big, with sandy-brown hair and those light blue eyes, some might call him handsome, but the aura of menace chilled her blood.
Sahara struck out and he ducked, reaching for her at the same time. The blade cut into his arm, slicing just below his elbow, making him retreat.
She quickly sidestepped and, taking an aggressive stance with the blade lifted at an angle over her shoulder, she threatened, “Reach for me again and you’ll lose the arm.”
“With that flimsy thing?”
“That’s not my blood ruining the area rug.”
Looking down he saw the trail of red and, amazingly enough, moved to stand on the hardwood instead. Closing a hand over the wound to try to stanch the drip, he assessed her. “You made that from the heater, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And you brought it to your bedroom?”
Good thing, she thought, but said only “I’ve grown fond of it.”
His mouth didn’t move, yet she could almost swear he was amused. The last thing she’d wanted to do was entertain him.
Those blue eyes she already knew so well stared into hers. “Next time I get you—and, Sahara, I will get you—I’ll remember just how ingenious you are.”
Back to the threat of tying her down naked? Not happening, buster. “Why?”
Surprise lifted his brows. “Why what?”
“Why will you get me again?” She backed up another step, resisting the urge to search the rest of the room for the others. She had a gut feeling he’d come alone. “If you want money, I’ll pay you. Just tell me what you know about my brother.”
This time he smiled openly—and it was scary-mean. “You want to know about Scott? Sure. He’s not the saint you paint him to be.”
“No, not a saint,” she agreed. “But he is an amazing brother.” She hitched her chin. “What did you do for him that he’d owe you money?”
“A job. And he double-crossed us.”
“Doesn’t sound like him.”
“Sounds exactly like him,” he insisted, then added, “the bastard.”
Sahara growled and hefted the blade high. “Insult him again and I’ll gut you from neck to groin.”
Awe held him captive. “You’d actually try, wouldn’t you?”
“There’d be no ‘try’ about it.”
His now-familiar gaze slowly touched all over her, from her tumbled hair down to her bare feet then back up to meet her eyes. “You’re magnificent,” he breathed. “I hope you know that.”
His twisted admiration frightened her even more. She was debating what to do, how to get out of this conundrum, when a knock sounded on her door. “Sahara?”
Brand. She’d forgotten all about him and now, during her moment of distraction, the big bruiser shot in and grabbed her around the waist, taking her down to the bed in one hard dive.
He immediately pinned her wrists to the bed, stared into her eyes a split second, then swooped down and ground his mouth against hers.
What was he doing?
Brand was right outside the door, and he wanted to kiss her?
She struggled to twist her face away, but the pressure was so hard she couldn’t maneuver. Instead, without a single thought for the consequences, Sahara sank her teeth into his lip.
He reared back—and she yelled, “Brand!”
Something hard hit the door, splintering wood.
The big man hastily rose with his fingertips touched to his bleeding lip. “You need some discipline, and I’ll be happy to give it to you.” He smiled. “See you soon, Sahara.”
It took her a second to realize she could again grab her blade, but he’d already gone back through her dressing room and presumably out the window—not that she’d check.
She had no intention of facing him alone again.
Another loud crack brought her back to her senses. Oh Lord, Brand was about to destroy her door!
“Brand, wait!” Shaking all over, she raced over, saying, “Let me unlock it.”
“Do it now.”
The second she unclicked the lock, Brand charged in so hard and fast that the door bounced off the wall. His gaze swept the room and, seeing nothing, he stalked into the closet, the bathroom and finally the dressing room.
Inching up behind him, Sahara said, “I guess he managed to come in through the window.”
“He?” Brand searched the large room as he went through it, but it was obviously empty. “Who are we talking about here, Sahara?” Fifteen feet square with one wall of windows, blinds up and mirrors on the other walls, there wasn’t any place for someone to hide.
“The bastard who kidnapped me.”
“You’re sure?”
A makeup vanity sat before the open window, now pushed askew, her plush white chair on its side, some of her makeup spilled to the floor.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’m sure.”
Hands braced on the sill, Brand leaned to look out the window. “Other than the screen on the ground out there, I can’t see shit.”
“The lights are out?”
“No, but he must’ve already reached the shadows.”
She held the weapon tighter. “How did he get in, anyway?”
Brand rubbed the back of his neck. “My guess is he climbed that tree. But was the window locked?”
“Yes. It always is. And there are alarms...”
He turned on her. “We have to call the police.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “You know I can’t do that.”
He reached her in three long strides, his hands clasping her shoulders. He started to say something, then his eyes narrowed. “Your mouth is bleeding.”
“What?” She reached up, then remembered and, after tossing the dagger to the bed, stalked away to the bathroom. “Not my blood. When he kissed me, I nearly bit through his lip.”
Brand stiffened. “He kissed you?”
When she shuddered, he softened his voice. “Sahara—”
Revulsion had her racing to her bathroom. At the pretty pedestal sink, she turned on the hot water and quickly rinsed her mouth, then loaded her toothbrush with toothpaste and scrubbed.
To have wanted Brand so badly, then have that animal assault her—
“Hey.” Brand closed his hand over hers. “It’s okay, babe.”
“I’m not your babe.” She spat and rinsed, then rinsed again and, feeling the need to flee, tossed aside the toothbrush. “You,” she accused, pushing past him, “didn’t want any part of it.”
“It?” he asked, rinsing her brush and shutting off the water before following close behind.
“Me.” She gestured up and down her body, still moving away. “Don’t pretend now that you—”
He caught her arm and spun her around so fast she slammed up against his broad chest. Though his expression looked fierce, he spoke gently. “Shush, please.”
Incredulous, she snarled, “You expect me—”
“I’m so damn sorry.” He sounded agonized. “You shouldn’t have been alone.”
Sahara wanted to throw up her hands, but Brand held her upper arms, making that impossible. “So help me, Brand, if you feel guilty because someone was in here, instead of feeling guilty because you rejected me, I might just use my shank on you.”
He kissed her forehead. “I don’t feel guilty,” he whispered. “I’m fucking furious.”
Oh. He didn’t really sound furious, though...until he spoke again.
“I want to kill that bastard for daring to touch you. I want to kick my own ass for letting you run off like that when I should have checked this room. I finally realized that, but I was too late.”
“You showed up in the nick of time,” she reminded him.
As if she hadn’t spoken, he growled, “I’m especially pissed that I needed to stay with you instead of going after him.”
“Going after him? What would you have done? Climbed down the tree?”
“Yes, and probably a lot faster than he managed it.”
Refusing to take blame for holding him back, she tried to shove away. “Hey, I never told you not to—”
He gave her a shake, interrupting her angry outburst. “And don’t ever accuse me of not wanting you. You’re smart enough to know that’s bullshit. I always want you.”
Okay, now he both looked and sounded enraged, but then, she wasn’t exactly composed herself. He’d said so much there, Sahara wasn’t sure where to start. She tackled the easiest part first. “I won’t let you kill him. I need him to answer questions for me.”
His jaw loosened, then clenched tight. “You can’t be serious.”
She wasn’t done. “And in case you’re confused on the matter, you don’t let me do anything. I came upstairs because I wanted to. It was never your choice to make. I was pissed and I made a decision. Turns out it was the wrong one,” she had to admit. “Coming home at all was apparently wrong. But that’s on me, not you.”
Staring up at the ceiling, Brand appeared to count to ten.
Far as she was concerned, he could count to a thousand and it wouldn’t change anything. “What do you mean, you want me?”
His jaw flexed.
Poking him in the chest, she asked, “Why the hell would you turn me down—tonight of all nights—if you’re as interested as I am?”
A little more time passed before he got around to answering. “We need to prioritize, okay? I have to let the guys know what happened. You have blood on your floor—”
“I cut him when he tried to get grabby.”
Brand gave a low groan, landed a quick kiss on her mouth and continued. “Plus we have to leave here. Somehow he got past your touted security, so no way are we staying.”
“Agreed.” She eyed the blood on the floor with distaste. “I think he ruined my rug, but it should clean off the hardwood.” She frowned. “I’ve never dealt with blood on hardwood before so I’m not certain.”
“I’ll clean it.” His hands kneaded her shoulders. “Do you want to change clothes before we leave?”
She had blood on her shirt. “Yes.”
He stared into her eyes. “Do you need any help?”
“Did you want to have sex?”
Taken aback, he asked, “Now?”
Sahara pushed free of his hold. “If you’re helping me change clothes, then you’re damn right, now.”
His chest expanded on a deep breath. “I was asking if you were too shaken—”
“I’m not.” Why she took her fury out on Brand, she couldn’t say. She only knew she wouldn’t be whiny again. Anger was preferable to that. “Give me five minutes.” Not about to enter the dressing room, she went into her closet and closed the door to change in private.
She heard Brand say, “Take all the time you need, honey,” in a very understanding way.
Damn him. Not since Scott’s disappearance had anyone treated her with kid gloves. If Brand didn’t stop, she’d end up crying, after all, and then he’d really feel the brunt of her anger.
CHAPTER SIX
IT WAS THE first time Brand had ever seen Sahara really dressed down, and he could barely look away.
Somehow, the faded skinny jeans and soft blue sweatshirt made her more beautiful, and even sexier.
By the time she’d stepped out of the closet, he’d almost finished cleaning the blood. Because she’d said she’d do it herself, he’d waited for her protests. She’d surprised him with a mere sound of frustration before marching into the bathroom and closing that door much as she had the closet door.
Shutting him out.
He deserved it after he’d screwed up so badly, not only by hurting her feelings, but by failing to ensure her safety.
Sometimes he forgot she had feelings, she could be so mercenary in her efforts.
Maybe if she’d acted a little more upset over her abduction, and been a little less on the make, he could have kept his priorities straight.
When next she’d emerged, it was without her makeup and with her hair loosely braided.
He’d been struggling with a powerful surge of lust ever since.
While Justice, Miles and Leese investigated different areas of the break-in and assault, Brand kept his eyes on Sahara. It bothered him that she’d gotten so quiet, sitting alone on the steps, her thoughts hidden.
The urge to promise her...everything kept his focus unwavering.
Part of it, he knew, was his inner caveman getting to play dangerous games of rescue. He understood now why his friends liked this security shit so much. For an alpha male, it fed a very basic instinct. A larger part, though, was Sahara herself. Being with her kept him on his toes, and in the normal course of things she gave as good as she got.
Today had not been normal, and seeing this softer, more susceptible side of her only made her more appealing.
She wasn’t the in-control business shark as much as a woman who needed and appreciated his help.
The various facets to her personality fascinated him. He admired her strength, and was drawn to her softness.
Taking care of someone else hadn’t been on his agenda. Hell, he’d been struggling with unexpected responsibilities already.
With Sahara, it was different because she was different. He relished the chance to care for her.
Brand was just about to join her on the stairs when Justice returned from his investigation of the security panel. “Could the kidnapper have known Scott well enough to know your passcode?”
On the bottom step of the right staircase, her arms around her knees, Sahara shrugged. “I don’t think Scott would have given those codes to anyone, but I can’t say for sure. Why?”
Brand considered sitting with her, but she’d been giving him “don’t touch” vibes ever since the attack. “You think that’s how he got in?”
Leese, who’d just stepped in after searching the yard, said, “He might’ve used the tree to leave, but I don’t think he climbed it to get in. That first branch is too high to reach, even with a jump, and the tree is too wide to shimmy up.”
Sahara snickered. “How do you know? Did you try it?”
Leese had no qualms about sitting with her. In fact, he took the step above her then put a hand on her shoulder.
Miles leaned against the newel post next to her. “Climbing out of your window to the tree and jumping down from the last branch wouldn’t have been too hard. But I agree with Leese. He got in another way.”
Justice nodded. “I’m thinking he came in right through the front door and then reset the alarm system. When you didn’t show up alone, he hid—and it paid off.” He said the last as an accusation aimed at Brand.
Brand started to reply, but Sahara beat him to it.
“Brand doesn’t work for me, and he hasn’t had the same training as you three.” She shook her head. “No, this is on me. I’m the one who insisted on coming here.”
“He should have gone upstairs with you,” Justice stated.
Sahara lifted a brow. “Once I made up my mind to go upstairs alone, do you honestly think he could have stopped me?”
Not as abrasive as Justice, Miles said, “Stopped you, no. That’d be like trying to stop a stampede. But he still should have gone up with you and checked the room first.”
This time Brand cut off Sahara before she could reply. �
�I agree.” He knew he’d fucked up. “Believe me, it won’t happen again.”
Snapping her head around to glare at him, Sahara reiterated, “You do not work for me.”
He held up a hand. “So we think the guy got in the front door. That has to mean he had the codes.” Keeping in mind her desire to withhold her personal background, he said, “Sahara told me about another case where a guy who had installed the system had everything he needed to break in.”
“That was different,” she said. “Scott changed the passcode after the installation.” And with that, she shoved to her feet and sashayed off into the kitchen.
Brand watched her go, specifically the sway of her perfect ass in the snug-fitting jeans. Damn. The lady had a body that looked great no matter what she wore.
And if he ever got to see her naked...
With conflicted thoughts, he turned back around—and caught all three of his friends staring at him with varying degrees of interest.
Was he supposed to do a trick? Irate, he asked, “What?”
Steely-eyed, Leese asked, “Are you working for her or not?”
He was still struggling with that decision. “Probably not.”
“Make up your mind already—” Justice said, heading off to join his boss “—or hit the road. She doesn’t need indecision on this.”
Brand wouldn’t allow anyone to push him away from Sahara. “Not happening.”
Justice pivoted with a frown.
“Let it go,” Miles said to Justice.
As the only one of his friends who knew why Brand might leave MMA, Miles probably had more patience to wait for his final decision.
When Justice subsided, Miles lifted a brow at Brand, asking, “You two involved?”
Define involved. Drawn to each other? Definitely. Constantly butting heads? All the time. Smothering in sexual chemistry? God yes.
Brand shook his head. “Not yet sure about that either.” None of them would accept that so he went on without pause. “But I do know she shouldn’t be alone.”
“I’ll be with her,” Justice said. “You just go on home and figure out your life or something.” He strode away for the kitchen.
