Brandon drove, keeping her hand in his, brushing his strong thumb over her fingers. He gripped her palm tight, and every caress made her all the more anxious to reach the hotel. His touch held the promise of what would happen once they arrived.
When they stopped at a traffic light, Sandra thought he would lean over and kiss her again. Instead, he simply looked across, reached up, and brushed aside a strand of her wayward hair. He trailed the back of his fingers along her jaw, moving down to trace her lips with one finger. She nipped at him, and he laughed—then moved in for that kiss.
A loud honk behind them shattered the moment. Sandra glanced at the light, saw that it had turned green. Brandon gave her an abashed grin before landing a quick peck on her lips, and laughed as he drove off.
It didn’t take long for him to start showing off the power of his Ferrari. Sandra held on tight as he swerved and dodged past other vehicles, accelerating so quickly it made her heart leap to her throat. He’d glance at her while hitting the gas, making the car rip forward like a bullet shot from a gun. The forward blast of the vehicle caused her to yelp and scream and laugh in excitement. The tires would screech, the engine would rev, and Sandra knew it was all just a way to get her even more amped up for tonight.
Only a few minutes later Brandon pulled up to the hotel and turned off the engine. “This is you.”
“It is.” She tried to keep her voice steady, but the anticipation of what would happen when they got upstairs was killing her. The thrill of the car ride alone had her all but ready to orgasm.
“I’ll walk you in.”
“Oh?” Like there’s any doubt about that.
He got out, ran around the front of the car, opened her door, helped her out. She smiled, remembering how he’d avoided showing affection in public, and took his hand lightly. But the look she tried to direct at him was pure fire.
They went through the hotel lobby. Brandon made a beeline for the elevator. He hit the button without saying a word to her. When it opened, Sandra muttered an oath.
Two children and their parents stood inside.
Sandra had been hoping she’d have time alone with Brandon in the elevator.
But he surprised her as he walked in. He greeted the adults, then bent down and whispered something she didn’t quite pick up to the kids. Both of them exploded in a fit of giggles and laughter.
Sandra blinked. He’s good with kids. She’d never expected that side to Brandon. He said something to them again, and the kids doubled their laughter. He stood and smiled at the parents as the elevator doors shut, and they started up.
Sandra found herself seeing Brandon in a different light. The way he made the kids laugh was absolutely adorable. And… so very endearing. It made Brandon seem much more human, somehow—much less pompous than the man she first encountered outside Cassie’s Blend.
“Bye!” the two kids sang out in a chorus when the elevator opened to the eleventh floor. She and Brandon walked out, and he waved to them as the doors closed.
“That was impressive.”
“Kids are uncomplicated,” he shrugged. “There’s never any pretense with them.” He nodded down the hall, and placed both hands in his pockets. “That’s your room?”
“Yes,” Sandra said. “Come.”
“Sandra, I—”
“Come.” She didn’t give him a chance to protest as she linked her arm through his and led him forward.
They stopped at her door and she had to separate herself from him to fumble for the keycard in her purse. Brandon stood beside her, regarding her movements with an unusual stiffness. He was silent. Watching; waiting.
Finally she found the card and swiped it through the lock. The mechanism whirred to life, allowing her to push open both doors. She turned around to invite him in—and was startled to find his face half an inch from hers, his green eyes locked with hers in a steady, concentrated look.
“Have I ever told you,” he said slowly, his mouth so close to her face she could feel the warmth of his breath, “how very difficult you are to resist?” Both his hands trailed up her arms to stop on her bare shoulders, and he trailed slow, erotic circles along her neck.
Sandra flushed scarlet, but did not look away. “Who says you have to resist?” she offered in her best attempt at a sultry voice.
Brandon groaned, and then his mouth crashed into hers in a passionate frenzy. The first touch of his lips flared the longing that had been building within her—the longing to be possessed entirely by Brandon tonight. She was ready for physical surrender, and the desire to give herself up to this stunning man raged in her like wildfire. Her thirst for Brandon was unquenchable; it was pure attraction. There was no rationalizing its presence. It beat within her like a thundering drum, making her heart throb and the echo thunder in her ears.
Her tongue met his in perfect tandem: exploring, sharing, teasing, exchanging. He ran his teeth over her upper lip, and her tongue trailed the inside of his mouth, each of them battling to draw more and more of the other in. His exhilarating sexual breath made her head spin, overpowering all her other senses.
Sandra yearned for more, for him to be closer, and threw her arms around his neck to pull him into her. She let one hand wander up to his hair, gripping the scruffy mass of waves and holding tight. His hard body pressed against hers, and with her back tight against the wall, she knew how vulnerable she was to him.
At that moment, he pulled away.
One second they were together; the next they were not. Her numb brain was unable to process anything more than that. Instinctively, she leaned forward for more… and stumbled on shaky knees when she discovered he’d stepped away.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Brandon said in a controlled tone before he turned and walked away. He did not look back.
Tomorrow? The idea was ludicrous. No, she couldn’t let him go. She was captivated by the amount of need that coursed through her from his touch, driving her wild with the desire to belong to him fully. Not tomorrow, she thought. Tonight!
She made to go after him, but once her addled brain got her limbs move, Brandon was already at the elevator. Why had he pulled away so abruptly? It made no sense!
She was willing, open, and completely enraptured by him tonight. Had she been too willing? Had she fallen for him too fast? Too hard?
Is that why he rejected me again?
Feeling a flush of heat enter her cheeks from acting the fool, she turned to her room and slammed the door. She wanted to go after Brandon, but she had more dignity than that. She should not have to chase him anymore.
She felt the moisture swelling up in her eyes. She was frustrated, angry, and bitterly disappointed. She leaned against door. Her shaky knees gave out, and she sank to the floor in a dizzy spell.
That disappointment scared her the most. Sandra wasn’t used to being reliant on anybody, especially not a man, especially not after her last boyfriend. But if her feelings hinged so much on what Brandon did, how could she deny being reliant?
The moisture behind her eyes threatened to turn into tears.
What stung worst was that he’d rejected her at her most susceptible moment. The quickness with which she’d surrendered to him must have been what turned him off so completely. And, with the appalling way she all but begged him to come inside, he probably thought of her as no better than some common whore.
She couldn’t rationalize her feelings. Tears of shame stung her cheeks, and she started to tremble. She knew there was nothing to be ashamed of, not really, but after this—the second time he had pushed her willing body away, she began to feel completely hollow inside.
Why would Brandon bring me all the way to Seattle, why would he put me up in this hotel room, why would he string me along on two dates only to leave on a note of bitter emptiness at the end?
A sudden jolt of shame, completely unrelated to the one she was feeling before, shot through her. She’d heard herself think—and was repulsed by the weakness of her thoughts. She was not some w
hiny, needy, helpless little girl! Her emotions would not be strung onto the whims of a man. She was stronger than that!
She felt a resolve building. She didn’t like the feelings of impuissance that had clouded over her in the moments after Brandon left, and she banished them now. I’m not going to let this man—or any other—take me on this kind of rollercoaster anymore! Shake it off, girl! She pushed herself up, wiped away the tears—and was startled by a new realization.
Brandon hadn’t rejected her.
It was a ray of light in the dark. No, he didn’t reject me at all. He’d left her, yes, but not in the way she’d first thought. He said I was hard to resist—and that he would see me tomorrow.
That meant he wanted to be with her again.
She didn’t know how she’d overlooked those crucial words. The only explanation she could find was that she’d been so blind with desire when Brandon ripped himself away that she was left utterly incoherent afterward. Now, she felt more a fool than anything over those despairing feelings of weakness that had washed over her in the aftermath.
But not anymore. Determination replaced everything else in her mind as she walked into her suite and headed for the rack of clothes. Tomorrow night, she would simply have to make sure he’d be unable to leave her on the doorstep again.
No matter what wicked restraints he imposed on himself.
Chapter Thirteen
Sandra woke with a gasp. Again, the nightmare had startled her awake. She knew better than to expect anything different.
But this time, something was different: a new detail to the dream. This time, she’d dreamed it was raining when the anonymous stranger carried her outside. She could recall her wet hair clinging to her face, the moisture of raindrops melting away against the terrible heat of the fire.
The memory stood out so vividly in her mind that it was a wonder she hadn’t noticed it before.
What was truth, and what was fiction? She couldn’t tell anymore. Her original memory of the night her sister had died had been lost, replaced by the recurring nightmares. They were identical every time they came, so any new detail was remarkable.
But, as always, it was probably just her mind playing tricks on her. Sandra reached automatically for the small container of pills on her ratty bedside table… and snatched her hand back as if she’d been scalded when she found nothing but empty air. Her eyes shot open, fear gripped her—and with a sigh of relief she remembered she wasn’t at home anymore.
She was in a luxurious hotel suite paid for by Brandon.
The realization struck her as surreal. She took a deep breath. Last night at the Space Needle hadn’t just been a pleasant dream. It was all real. It was just so far outside her realm of reality that at any moment she was afraid the bubble would burst and she’d be back in Ocean Shores, working the desk in Doctor Baker’s office.
She lay back, the last remnants of sleep fading away. No, last night definitely wasn’t a dream. If it had been, I’d have woken up with Brandon beside me.
She pushed herself up. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he had promised.
She was determined not to have “tomorrow” end like last night.
And this time, she had a plan.
Brandon couldn’t stop thinking about how close he’d come to losing control with Sandra last night.
Every step they’d taken together after leaving the Space Needle had led him closer to the brink. But he wanted more than a one-night stand with her. He knew now that he wanted trust, passion, and yes, even a relationship.
As such, his usual hot-blooded Italian temperament had to be held in check. It had gotten him in trouble before. If he was truly ready to become a changed man, he had to have a solid rein on his excitability. Holding back the passion Sandra evoked in him was a personal challenge. He hoped it would help his pursuit of a deeper, more meaningful relationship with her.
For that type of relationship, Sandra had to understand—to truly feel—that he cared about her as a person.
I’m getting there, Brandon thought as he maneuvered his Ferrari through the packed Seattle traffic, but not just yet.
In some ways, Sandra was already open to him. She’d trusted him with the story about her ex. Last night, she’d been more than ready to go to bed.
Which had made holding off extremely fucking difficult.
But hold off he did, because giving in to temptation would have betrayed his intentions. Even though physically, Sandra might have been ready for him, Brandon knew that psychologically she wasn’t yet there.
He only had a few small clues to go by, but they were enough. Her residual hesitation would become clear in those times she’d laugh and break free, forgetting herself for a moment… only to have some internal mechanism snap into place and vault her back into that closet of shielded self-reserve.
Brandon couldn’t remember the last time he’d walked away from a woman ready to take him to bed. He’d never done it with one as stunning as Sandra. But he had to fight the frenzy of lust barreling through his mind and do it anyway.
All his women before had been throwaways. They’d been attractive, of course, but there was little past the superficial with them. Brandon itched for someone ready to challenge him, for someone not bowled over by his status, his body, his money.
Sandra could be that someone. She hesitated, yes, but he didn’t think that hesitation came from being intimidated by his persona. Otherwise, she would have never come to Seattle. But something made her cautious; some deep-rooted issues held her back. And until that limitation disappeared, Brandon would not fall victim to his primal desires.
No matter how much they tore at him.
The first time Brandon had spotted Sandra in that little coffee shop in Ocean Shores, he had wanted her. When he kissed her on the boat, and let his passion take over, he needed her. The speed with which wanting became needing frightened him, at first. It had come too quickly for comfort.
That’s why he had left for Seattle after their first date. Of course, he’d also had business concerns to take care of here, but he thought leaving Ocean Shores for a few days would let his mind cool down, and reduce his fixation on the feisty, blonde-haired beauty—
A honk ripped through the air, jarring him back to himself. He realized the light in front had turned green.
Asshole, Brandon thought as he shot a glare at the Ford behind him. But as he moved into the intersection, he realized he was more irritated with himself. No matter what he was doing, thoughts of Sandra had a way of taking over his mind.
It had been like that since he had first seen her. And that little indefinable itch, the one that told him he should recognize her from somewhere, never ceased to gnaw at him, either.
Brandon changed lanes, smirking when he cut the trailing Ford off. That’ll teach him.
It was the culmination of many different things that made Sandra so alluring. She had depth, substance, and for him… intrigue. She was intelligent, yet she hid that side from the world. She was gorgeous, but dressed in rags. Everything about her enticed his senses so much more than any woman before… and he couldn’t pinpoint why. What he felt for Sandra, even before he’d said a single word to her, was somehow more profound than the empty male lust for a pretty face or a beautiful body. It was instinctual. And if his instincts were right, she could be the first woman he’d met in a long time who was a real treasure.
That’s why he had to savor the process of getting to know her. Opening her mind to him would be like uncorking a fine bottle of wine: an art in and of itself. And I can’t rush things. Not if I hope to enthrall Sandra on a deeply personal level.
He pulled up to a towering gray skyscraper, parking on the curb. His day was getting started. It was beyond time to force thoughts of Sandra out of his head. Otherwise, he’d never be able to focus.
His business brought him to Seattle for two reasons. The first was to check on Mark, the distributor who worked for him in the region. Mark was the one who had given Brandon the head
s up about the kid from Ocean Shores dealing on their territory.
Brandon wasn’t worried about the kid. He was probably some young punk wanting to impress his girlfriend by making some quick cash. Brandon had dealt with that type of situation before. He could rough the kid up a bit, show him the consequences of what he was doing, and scare him off. Not enough to hurt him, though—Brandon knew it was imperative for his network to steer clear of violence. That was how they managed to stay on the good side of the law.
His entire operating mantra, in fact, hinged on staying on the good side of the law. The network wasn’t large—nothing like the sort run by the big organized crime units—but it was prosperous. And very lucrative. Their huge profit margins were made possible by selling to the right clientele. Everything Brandon and his partner did was low-risk, high-reward. That’s how it had been for the last thirteen years.
But now, he was close to leaving that life behind. He’d made enough money to sustain his lifestyle for a long time. More importantly, he’d promised his business partner, early on, that he would exit before he got attached for life. The time to leave, then, was now.
The network had begun when Brandon was still in college. Brandon’s business partner had possessed the experience and the right connections. Brandon had had the hunger. Together, they made an incomparable duo and grown the network fast.
His business partner handled the administrative side of things: making sure shipments came in and were distributed to the right people, keeping their bank accounts and records in check, managing all their assets and cash flow. Brandon, however, preferred the more hands-on approach. He was the one who made customary visits to police departments, to federal officials’ offices, to politicians’ homes: wining and dining them to make sure they remembered to turn a blind eye to his dealings if public pressure ever got high. That was the second reason he’d come to Seattle. Right now, he was on his way to meet the head of the city’s DEA. The man was a personal friend, and Brandon had a special gift ready for him, fresh off the plane from Colombia: a brick of the purest powdered cocaine money could buy.
Yours to Savor Page 13
