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.