Yours to Savor

by Scarlett Edwards

  “Wait,” Sandra called out. “I don’t even know your name yet!”

  “It’s Brandon.”

  “Oh. I’m—”

  “Sandra. I know. The doc told me.”

  And with that, he was gone.

  Chapter Three

  The kid’s got spunk, Brandon thought as he strode out the office. Man, and those dirty blonde roots drove him absolutely fucking insane. But they weren’t the only reason he was interested in Sandra.

  From the moment he spotted Sandra standing at the coffee shop counter that morning, he had a feeling he’d seen her somewhere before. Something tickled the back of his mind, but it was too faint for him to reach out and reel in.

  He was determined to find out what it was.

  Brandon always got what he wanted. Always. That type of assurance wasn’t arrogance; it was simply how he’d planned his life. And the last thirteen years had gone completely according to plan.

  He was thirty-three, single, and living large off money made from the celebrity drug and party scene he’d helped shape over the last thirteen years. He knew well the coarse underbelly of the beast. After all, he supplied the lifeline that kept it running. It was how he’d made his fortune.

  Girls like Sandra weren’t his usual type. He preferred looser women—the ones who came with no strings attached. Girls who danced in nightclubs in ways that left little to the imagination; girls who drew every eye but wouldn’t so much as glance at most men.

  Brandon, however, was unlike most men. He’d learned to appreciate the best. He knew exactly what he wanted. He went for the women other men couldn’t have: the trophies, the tens.

  And got them.

  But he made sure to keep them around for only one night.

  Brandon knew his power over women well. Good Italian genetics, he figured, mixed with an upbringing in the States, gave him the base. His height didn’t hurt, and the confidence he projected was something he’d built up purposefully over his latter teen years. A smattering of wit and self-deprecating humor also helped. Coupled with his influence and money, he was unstoppable.

  He frequently found himself the object of desire of highflying beauties. At the start—before he knew any better—he had allowed those types of women to drag him deep into their intrigues. Once, it almost killed him. Another time, it nearly bankrupted his business.

  Since then, Brandon had learned better than to strive for longevity in his relationships. Instead, he’d focused on affairs with little meaning and an easy out. And yes, even though sometimes he got suckered into a just-sex relationship for a few weeks, he could not afford anything longer than that. If he got too involved with anyone, it would create a grievous weakness that his rivals would gladly exploit. Although Brandon was more sophisticated than some petty dealer on the street, his line of work—dealing exclusively with rich clientele—was not without its dangers.

  But things were changing. His life was changing. He was close to stepping away from the business he’d created and into a life of greater stability… a life on the right side of the law.

  His line of work had left little room for home and hearth. Brandon had come from a large family, and had neglected them for thirteen years out of necessity. Rebuilding ties with them was one of his major goals for the future. He deeply regretted disappearing from their lives, but it was something he’d had no choice in. It was either that, or to put them all at great risk. And he’d never dared risk his brothers and sisters—he cared about them too much.

  But the minute this chapter of his life was over, he’d return to theirs. The business he’d built had granted him a fortune: affluence, power, a huge network of connections. But he already had enough money to retire on. There was only one more task to do, born out of a sense of obligation to his business partner. Then he could say goodbye to everything on the wrong side of the law.

  That was one of the reasons Sandra caught his eye. Lately, the one-night stands that had sustained him for so long were becoming hackneyed. Maybe it was a matter of his growing up and desiring deeper meaning in his relationships. Maybe he understood it was time for him to set down roots. All the women who’d flocked to him presented little challenge, so they could not hope to hold his interest for long.

  Sandra, on the other hand, seemed different. She had bite—and a backbone. He liked how she’d bantered with him, liked how she didn’t back down at his caustic remarks. He knew his brand of light-hearted arrogance could make him appear pompous at times—especially to those unused to his humor—but Sandra took to it well. He had fun with his cockiness, too. The key is never to take yourself too seriously.

  Of course, Sandra’s beauty was a given. Brandon did not waste time with anything less. But he hated the way she dressed. Yes, he’d only seen her in her work clothes, but even work clothes could be made to look flattering. There was no reason for her to stick to drab colors or for tops two sizes too big.

  Sandra had to be self-aware enough to know she was beautiful. So then, why did she deprive herself by wearing such horrible clothes? Was it an issue of money? Of confidence? Did she purposefully want to deflect male attention? Why? What secrets would make her want to hide herself?

  Brandon didn’t know the answer yet, but he trusted his intuition… and his intuition told him that Sandra had secrets. She didn’t play up the fact that she was beautiful. She hardly wore any makeup, and didn’t try to emphasize any of her feminine features. In fact, Brandon suspected her clothes hid her body from all but the most perceptive of eyes—all but his eyes.

  He could already imagine her in rich, designer silks tailored to reveal her curves, hugging her delicious figure. He could see her in something that would take advantage of her stunning face, her beautiful hair, her delicate bone structure. If Brandon had his way, Sandra would bring that image to life soon.

  There was something else about Sandra. She seemed somehow overly-qualified for her job as a receptionist. Perhaps it was the way she spoke; maybe it was the way she carried herself. Yet something about his first impression of her told him she had a keen intellect. Of course, Brandon knew that first impressions could be misleading. However, he did not think he was mistaken here. He had a feeling Sandra possessed… depth.

  It was just a feeling, nothing more. But Brandon had learned to trust his intuition. It had served him well many times over the years. Sandra had to be shielding herself on purpose—from what and why, he did not know, but it was obvious a woman like that would not abandon her appearance without reason. And despite the indifferent air of formality she’d tried to assume with him in the clinic, he’d noticed the flash of excitement in her eyes when she realized it was he who had interrupted her morning.

  So there it was. Some level of Brandon’s consciousness told him Sandra would be unlike any other girl he’d ever known. He knew he should not get too excited about her yet, especially after two cursory interactions… but he couldn’t keep his mind from wanting to build her up. That’s why I went to three different clinics to find her this morning, he thought, chuckling.

  It didn’t take much coaxing for the amiable barista at the coffee shop to gush out everything she knew about Sandra—after she understood Brandon’s interest in her friend. Of course, she wouldn’t give him explicit directions to Sandra’s clinic. Lucky for him, he was in a small town.

  Afterwards, it had just been a matter of swallowing his pride enough to pretend the burn was bad enough to see a doctor. It had obviously been a pretense, but it was a good enough excuse to walk into Sandra’s clinic unannounced. It made their second encounter seem like happenstance in her mind—and not like something Brandon had planned beforehand. He didn’t want to appear too off-putting by showing too much interest too quickly.

  But he’d gotten his date with her, just as he wanted. He was pleased with how things had turned out. He’d have time alone with Sandra soon to discover if she really did have the depth he suspected in her.

  A woman to care for can be a boon unrivalled. Brandon
knew that when he returned to his family, he wanted a woman like that by his side. He had no illusions Sandra would be the one—things rarely worked out so smoothly in real life—but she could help him learn the ropes of a proper courtship.

  That’s why tonight, he planned on making their first date unlike any she’d ever been on.

  Smiling to himself, Brandon took the keys to his Ferrari from one pocket and unlocked the door.

  Chapter Four

  A taxi? Really?

  Sandra stared at the beat-up white cab that was pulling up in front of Cassie’s Blend. She had texted Brandon and told him to meet her there, after she missed his call, with the expectation that he would pick her up. When he texted, Come outside now, she assumed he was waiting for her.

  In his place, she found a rusty, old taxi with a cracked windshield and dented rear bumper. When she tried to open the back door, the handle stuck, and wouldn’t budge until the driver turned around to bang on the door with his fist.

  So much for my knight in shining armor, Sandra thought bitterly as she shifted her purse between her legs and pulled on the seatbelt. The driver took off as soon as he heard the click, without sparing her a single word.

  “Excuse me,” Sandra asked, “where are we going?”

  The cabbie muttered something Sandra didn’t catch.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I said, you will see!” he exclaimed, catching Sandra by surprise.

  Jesus, what crawled in his cereal this morning? Sandra wondered.

  Obviously the driver was in no mood for small talk, so Sandra sat in the back quietly, peering out the window. When the car veered away from Ocean Shores’ main streets and started winding through unfamiliar back roads, Sandra felt some discomfort building inside. She had to admit, what she was doing was risky. Brandon was a stranger. She didn’t know the first thing about him. Even this cab doesn’t feel particularly safe, she thought.

  She debated asking the driver to turn around and taking her home—but thought better of it. She’d already agreed to see Brandon. And, despite her apprehension, she was curious about what he’d planned.

  Eventually, the cab pulled to a stop in an unfamiliar part of Ocean Shores. They were at the end of a long, upward-sloping street, lined with tall evergreens. There had been some houses near the bottom, but they had petered out as the car climbed up. As far as she could see, there was nothing here but trees and forest. Why had Brandon brought her here?

  She started reaching for her wallet, but the cabbie shook his head and pointed to the meter. “It’s already paid for.”

  “Oh!” said Sandra, surprised. “Thanks.”

  Sandra pushed the door open and stepped out.

  She was greeted by the sight of Brandon leaning against one of the trees, hands in his pockets and one foot casually propped up against the trunk. He had changed into a casual polo and white khaki pants. The sleeves of the shirt were tight against his lean, muscular arms, and the fabric hugged his wide chest and narrow waist in a perfect fit. A strand of dark, wavy hair fell near the lens of his ever-present designer shades.

  Sandra wasn’t there to swoon over his figure. He’d already negated whatever effect it had on her by acting the ass on the street. It was up to him now to change that perception.

  He looked her up and down thoughtfully. A hint of a smile played on his lips. Sandra imagined that smile would be very disarming to most women. However, she was immune to its effect. Right? She noticed the gold wrist watch with a prominent Rolex emblem on its face. Either Brandon has a penchant for perfect fakes, or he enjoys flaunting his wealth.

  Brandon didn’t say a word as she walked toward him. He simply looked at her. In that moment, Sandra felt a little self-conscious about the jeans and plain sweater she’d thrown on. But she hadn’t come to impress him, no matter what he might think.

  “Shall I do a little spin for you, too?” Sandra asked when she came near, annoyed that no matter how well she thought she’d prepared, the sight of him still brought butterflies to her stomach. But no matter how naturally her body reacted to him, she still had control over her actions. She would not fall head-over-heels for him just because her body wanted to. “I don’t even know why I came.”

  “You came because I asked you to.” Brandon reached up, took his sunglasses off. His glance slammed into her so hard that she nearly staggered back. Somehow, she had forgotten all about that feral, hunter’s look. It was back and strong as ever. He reminded her somewhat of a patient cougar, sitting back and waiting for the silly squirrel to come to him. It was the combination of his manner and his speech, coupled with his self-assured confidence. Regardless of the source, it was undeniably attractive… if only a little off-putting.

  Sandra fixed him with a frown. “Do you always get what you want?”

  He smiled back. “Only when I try.”

  “You sent me a cab,” she said, trying to feign irritation to fight off the growing warmth inside. “That’s not exactly the best way to impress a girl.”

  “Impress? Why would I want to do that?” Brandon gave her a boyish grin. “You’re here, aren’t you?” His eyes passed over her clothes again, and she could feel the heat in his gaze this time.

  Sandra sniffed. She knew she couldn’t stay upset with him forever—especially since she’d agreed to spend the next hour with him. Besides, there was something about the way he smiled that put her at ease. She would not let him see that, though. “Clock’s ticking,” she pointed out. “Why did you bring me here?”

  “You’ll see.” A knowing, mysterious look passed over his face.

  “Your cab driver said the same thing.” Sandra motioned at the forest around them. “If this is supposed to be romantic like those vampire books, I swear, I’m going to club you over the head.”

  To her surprise, Brandon laughed. It was a hearty sound, gregarious and full of mirth. Against everything, Sandra could feel the corner of her lips twitching up to match his smile. She couldn’t help responding to the warmth in his laughter.

  “Is that what you take me for? A teenage boy?”

  “I take you for a man too full of himself for his own good.”

  He laughed again, and spread his hands. “You can be quite perceptive when you try.”

  “It’s something I work hard at,” she noted. Already the bitterness from the morning’s interaction was seeping away. She enjoyed their little give-and-take, and was finding herself more amenable to Brandon than she’d expected.

  “Come.” Brandon extended his hand. When she didn’t take it right away, he gave his most innocent look, softened his voice. “I don’t bite, I promise.”

  She delayed just a little longer, only to prove to him she wouldn’t jump at his call—even though some part of her desperately wanted to—then placed her fingers on his upturned palm with a feather’s touch.

  Apparently, he didn’t appreciate the subtlety. His fingers curled around hers in an unwavering grip. Strength, power, and prowess all seeped through them into her. Sandra felt as if she was caught in his hunter’s snare. A part of her liked the feeling. An overwhelming part of her. It was a grip of possession. “I’m not going to let you go,” it seemed to say.

  Sandra was impressed. All the men she’d known in her life—starting with her father and ranging all the way to her last boyfriend—had been meek, hesitant, and uncertain. Brandon was anything but. He was a breath of fresh air after twenty-five years of suffocation.

  He started off into the trees, on a little trail that cut through the woods. She had to walk fast to match his pace. She was glad she’d decided against wearing heels for this outing. And it was an outing, not a date. She was giving Brandon a chance, that’s all.

  Why, then, did his touch leave her so lightheaded?

  He walked on, not saying anything for a while. Sandra found the stretching silence uncomfortable and, without really thinking, blurted out, “You’re doing a pretty lousy job of making up the impression you left on me this morning.”
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  “Am I?” His beguiling smile was calm and gentle. “Is that why I can feel your pulse racing through your hand?”

  A jolt of shame rifled through her. She snatched her hand away, hating her body once more for giving away her true feelings—but Brandon wouldn’t let go. “No,” he said instead. “I like the feel of your skin against mine.”

  The words were said with such puritan innocence that Sandra could only think of them as dirty. An image flashed in her mind of the two of them in a dark bed, rolling together in the sheets, his hard body pressed tight against hers—

  “Do I make you nervous?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts. Sandra blinked, startled. Nervous? Isn’t it obvious? All his questions, his statements, his manners were so very direct, she was learning. There was no beating about the bush with Brandon. And it definitely threw her off.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked instead, avoiding answering the question that would force her to reveal her total weakness for him.

  Brandon grinned. “A question with a question, hmm? You catch on quick. I think you and I are going to get along just fine. Where, you said? Take a deep breath. What do you smell?”

  Sandra complied, filling her lungs with cool, misty air. She could smell the pines, the earthy dirt, the freshness of nature all around them. There was nothing in particular that stood out… except there: hidden underneath it all was a hint of the tangy spray of salt water.

  “Tell me,” he continued before she could answer, “do you like the sea?”

  “I mean, it’s just sort of there,” Sandra shrugged. “I’ve never paid much attention to it before.”

  Brandon laughed. “Well, we’ll change that tonight.” He let go of her hand, increased his strides to walk faster up the sloping trail to the peak. He stopped, and turned back to her before she caught up. “You said an hour, Sandra, so I planned on making the best use of that time. Look.”

  Sandra came to stand beside him on the crest… and stopped, gaping. The little forest around them melted away at the top of the hill, exposing a breathtaking view of the ocean. The horizon stretched far into the distance, the ocean trailing it to eternity beneath the cloudless sky overhead. She could hear water lapping at the rocky shore far beneath them. The sun sat close to the water’s surface, casting shimmering rays onto the ripples of the calm sea. From her vantage point, Sandra could see the water sparkle, like a blue desert scattered with millions of tiny diamonds, each one glistening in the sun.