Getting her back on track, he asked, “So the man who threatened you is the same one who carried you?”
“Yes. He didn’t let anyone else touch me at all. He barely allowed them to look at me. While we were still in the van, he’d tied my hands—not very well, but I didn’t think it’d be prudent to pull my hands free right in front of him. That would have just gotten me tied more tightly, and who needs that?”
“Smart,” he said, to cover the burgeoning rage. If Sahara hadn’t been so savvy, if she’d been more intimidated, what might have happened to her?
For all her brass, she was a soft, very feminine woman. The thought of anyone handling her roughly, tying her, threatening her, burned like acid in his blood.
“Having my hands tied made it difficult to stand up once we needed to leave the van, especially in the heels I favor. So he dragged me on my behind to the doors, got out and hefted me over his shoulder.”
“Like I did?”
She cast him a disgruntled frown. “Well...not as gently.”
“I’m sorry—for both times.”
Her hand went over his shoulder to his nape, and her fingers started a slow tease over his fevered skin. “It was necessary when you did it, but if I ever see him again, I’ll make him sorry.”
“Yeah?” Her words were a distinct contrast to her touch. “What will you do?”
She opened her mouth—then suddenly sniffed the air and scrambled off his lap. “I have to turn the chicken, and in ten minutes it’ll be time to eat.”
Another avoidance?
Brand didn’t know if it was because she couldn’t think of anything dire enough, or because she already knew what she’d do and she didn’t want to shock him.
With Sahara, it was probably the latter.
*
AS THE NIGHT wore down, Sahara wasn’t sure what to do. So far, none of her efforts had moved Brand. It was like smacking her head against a brick wall, unproductive and painful.
He’d enjoyed her dinner, giving her a lot of praise and eating every last bite.
“Another cookie?” she asked, sipping her coffee.
“Two’s plenty for me. You made them yourself?”
“Yes.”
“You’re an amazing cook.”
He’d already said that a few times. “Why do I get the feeling you’re shocked?”
He smiled lazily and shrugged. “You said it yourself that you’re a business shark. Seems like overkill to be Suzy Homemaker, too.”
That made her laugh. “I’m not. I mean, I could be.” She was pretty sure she could do anything she set her mind to, and if she did it, she’d damn straight do it top-notch. “I’ve enjoyed cooking, but cleaning—not so much.”
He looked around again. “I guess you have a crew who keeps this place in order?” As he said it, he stood and headed to the sink with his dishes.
“What are you doing?”
“My share of the cleanup.”
“So gallant.” She popped the last bit of the cookie into her mouth then pitched in.
Anything was better than calling it a night.
As they worked, she deliberately brushed against him. He acknowledged her efforts with a satisfied and very male smile, but nothing more.
She could probably strip naked and he wouldn’t give in.
She wiped off the table while he dried the baking dish that couldn’t go in the dishwasher. Any second now he’d walk out, and she wasn’t ready for that.
When she would be ready, she didn’t know, but it definitely wasn’t tonight.
Sidling up next to him at the sink, she made another effort to keep him around. “Brand?”
He looked down at her, watching her rinse the dishcloth. “Something on your mind, Sahara?”
So many things. If she told him she was nervous, that she didn’t want to be alone, he’d stay. Unfortunately, she couldn’t bring herself to utter the words. They’d make her feel weak, and worse, they’d make her look weak. “Would you like to see the rest of the house?”
“I was going to ask.”
“You were?” Well, damn it, if she’d just waited...
“This place is so huge, how do you know everything is still locked up?”
“Good security system.” She rethought that real fast and added, “But it can’t hurt to check, right?” After drying her hands, she gestured. “This way.”
As they went around the interior, she tried to take her time, showing off artwork and things her brother had specifically chosen, but Brand seemed more interested in the security system and the keyless locks on the doors.
“Everything is well lit,” she pointed out, after they’d gone through the library, two studies, a gallery, a guest room, kitchen, dining and breakfast area, a formal living room, and a cozier entertaining room.
“What’s through here?” he asked, poking his head into a suite of rooms.
“Technically those are service quarters. My brother used to keep a full staff around.” She shrugged. “I prefer my privacy so now that I live here, I just have a cleaning crew that comes by once a week.”
He gave her a funny look, then took the lead going downstairs. “Where’s your bedroom?”
“My rooms are upstairs.”
“You use more than one bedroom?”
“Well, there’s my bedroom, my changing room, sitting room, bathroom—”
“Got it.”
Did he think she was bragging? Yes, wealth was something she’d taken for granted, but it wasn’t something she had to have to be happy. Because she wasn’t afraid to work, she couldn’t see herself as a pauper, but neither was she a snob who needed so much luxury. “You know the house belonged to my brother, right?”
“Yeah.” Brand got to the bottom of the stairs and headed straight to the back of the main room to the large double doors that opened into the backyard. “You ever think of selling it?”
Appalled by that idea, she scowled at him. “Of course not.”
He glanced at her.
“I would never willingly part with anything of Scott’s.”
Nodding, he turned back to double-check the locks, examining them in detail. “Justice cleared these as secure?”
“He did.” Justice had stayed with her before as her personal bodyguard, using rooms on the main floor. Out of all of them, Justice had a special knack for understanding alarms and the best way to wire a system.
Moving on to a window, Brand kept his back to her. “Leese said that he’s stayed here, too?”
“Yes.” Once, when necessary, Leese and Catalina had used the rooms in the basement.
Brand went to the right, and she followed. “Most of that area is used for storage. There are no windows, so no way for anyone to break in.”
He did a cursory glance through each room anyway, before backtracking and going to the far left where a pool table and other games filled a large section.
Watching him prowl around did funny things to Sahara, making her think of things she never had before.
Like how nice it’d be if she weren’t alone.
Trying to summon up some of her notorious poise, she opened the guest bedroom. “This is the room Leese and Catalina used. There’s an attached full bath, a sitting room with a PC, and a bar with a sink and microwave.”
“All the comforts of home.”
She inhaled, worked up her best I’m-in-charge smile and said, “Does that mean you’d like to stay for a visit?”
“I’m definitely staying.”
Crazy reactions happened inside her: elation, uncertainty...lust. Having Brand in her bed would go a long way toward helping her forget the horrible day and night.
She licked her lips, trying to decide what to say next, then decided to hell with it and asked, “You want to stay down here? Because, Brand, it’s awfully far away—”
“Exactly. Too far away.” He approached, his dark gaze assessing her, making her think she might get another kiss—or more.
He only took her hand. “Let me see your rooms.”
That sounded like a euphemism to her, and in her mind, she gave a mental fist pump into the air. Finally, Brand was giving in. Once she got him in her room, nature could take its course.
Going for serene confidence instead of triumph, she said, “Sure,” and got them on their way.