“It would be my last fight, but,” he said with gentle emphasis, before she could make assumptions, “I’m not agreeing to be a bodyguard.”
Her stomach bottomed out. This felt too much like losing, and by God, she did not lose. Determination stiffened her spine. “Tell me what it is you need.” More money, obviously. She could swing that. “Designated time off? Better benefits for dependents?” Working around that would be trickier, but she’d figure it out.
Brand shook his head. “Truth is, Sahara, I can’t see myself working for you.”
Wow. Now that hurt. Peeved, she moved away from him to sit in the chair behind her desk. A power position.
She met his gaze without flinching. “I see.” No, she didn’t.
“You’re too pushy.” He smiled as he said it, taking away some of the sting of that nasty observation. “And too used to getting your way. You love being in charge, but then, so do I.”
Never in her life had she been so offended. “Those insults are your way of telling me you don’t like me?” She rose from the chair again without realizing it, hands flat on the surface of the desk as she leaned toward him in challenge. “I got a very different impression.”
“I like you,” he confirmed, but then added, “because you’re not my boss.” He surprised her by mimicking her position until their noses almost touched over the middle of her desk.
She didn’t know where to look. His eyes drew her, so dark they were almost black, and always filled with wickedness.
Then there was his firm mouth set in that small, teasing smile that did crazy things to her. High cheekbones, a strong jaw, a masculine nose...
And oh, what that straight-armed pose did for his biceps.
She inhaled...and breathed in the scent of warm, musky male.
It seemed imperative to put some space between them so she slowly straightened.
Brand’s smile widened and he, too, straightened. “Coward.”
“Oh no,” she corrected. “But I have priorities that take precedence over...other things.”
He went back to crossing his arms. “Over me, you mean.”
“Nonsense. You are a top priority right now. I want you on the team.”
“The agency isn’t a team, Sahara. It’s you dictating and others following orders.”
She said through her teeth, “I’m the coach. I direct, encourage and—” Bossed. “—cheer. Rah-rah and all that.”
He laughed.
Not with her, no. He laughed at her.
“Where did you work before you took over here?”
Was he genuinely interested or just trying to move past her obvious irritation? Not that she’d stay irate long. It was a waste of time. She was more about positive forward strides.
Or getting even.
For now she’d work on moving forward by answering his question. “Before Scott disappeared, he often had me involved with the business. I learned everything here from the ground up.”
“Describe ‘ground.’”
“All right.” He probably thought she’d been pampered, placed in a high-paying position from the get-go. Nothing could be further from the truth. “When I was still very young, Scott let me sit in on meetings just to get a feel for things. When I turned eighteen, I worked as an attendant for the private elevator to his office.”
Surprise showed in his eyes, but he covered it by asking, “Was there an armed guard even then?”
“You say it like it was the Stone Age.” Feeling more confident, she again circled her desk but instead of getting closer to him, she moved to the wall of windows to look down on the Cincinnati traffic. “I’m thirty, so it was only twelve years ago. And yes, Scott always had top-notch security at the agency, including an armed elevator guard.”
“But instead of the guard escorting clients up to his office, he had you do it?”
“Yes. The guards were stationary, one at the main floor and one at his office.”
Brand joined her, standing close at her back so that his stirring scent enveloped her. “I bet they got an earful before they ever reached your brother.”
Dear Lord, was that a blush she felt on her face? She didn’t embarrass easily—except that he’d nailed it perfectly. How many times had Scott remonstrated her for being too pushy?
“Sahara?” Brand prompted.
She wished she hadn’t worn her hair in her usual classic updo. With her nape exposed, the heat of his breath sent swirling sensations to riot in her belly.
Brazening her way through the awkward moment, she flapped a hand and admitted, “I might have been a little nosy.”
“And a little opinionated?”
“Maybe just a smidge.” His closeness made her edgy, so she again moved away, very casually in hopes that he wouldn’t know he had her on the run. “After that job, I was a lobby receptionist.”
“Fired from the elevator job, or was it a promotion?”
Damn him, did he really have such a low opinion of her? Maybe he didn’t like her. That was something she’d never considered. She got along great with the other bodyguards who were all friends with Brand.
Or...did they feel the same way, too? Did they humor her in person while resenting her the rest of the time?
Disliking that possibility, she paused near her desk and, doing her best to keep the frown off her face, said, “A lateral move, actually.”
“Uh-huh. Did Scott tell you that?”
Scott had told her to quit harassing the clients—but she didn’t feel like sharing that part. Although, seeing Brand’s expression, she’d bet he already assumed as much. He seemed to know her too well.
Better than anyone else, in fact.
“Scott told me he wanted me to experience every facet of the business.”
“But you were never a bodyguard.”
She took pleasure in saying, “Yes, I was.”
Now Brand frowned, and she loved how intimidating he looked. He’d make an ideal bodyguard if only he’d realize it.
“Bullshit.”
She tsked at the crude language, her idea of a reprimand. “Scott taught me to shoot. I’m actually pretty good at it.”
“I’ve never seen you practice.”
“Here, with my employees? Of course not.” She had to maintain some mystique. “Scott owned his own range elsewhere and now it’s mine.”
“Where?”
She smiled. “It’s private.”
He countered with “Protecting a client isn’t always about shooting.”
“No, it’s mostly about intelligent decisions, good planning and quick thinking.” She let her gaze dip over him. “It’s one reason I thought you would do so well at the job.”
“Me, yes. But you?” His long strong fingers circled her upper arm. “You’re brilliant, Sahara, so no problem there.”
The assurance that he didn’t consider her stupid would have been nice, except that the moment he’d touched her, her thinking faltered. So did her breathing. And her heartbeat.
“I’ve never known anyone with a quicker mind than you,” he went on. “But when it comes to strength?” He lightly caressed her arm. “Physical strength, I mean. Does a woman like you, a woman who’s always manicured and polished, have any?”
Just that simple touch, his warm fingers brushing over her bare skin, on her arm, and her priorities got all mixed-up.
At five-eight, she wasn’t exactly petite, but Brand still stood half a foot taller, and next to his chiseled bulk, she felt downright dainty.
Oh, this wouldn’t do. Sahara cleared her throat and made herself stare up into his eyes. “Brute strength? I’m definitely lacking.”
“Didn’t say you were lacking. In fact, I’d say you’re just about perfect, but not strong enough to tangle with someone intent on causing harm.”
“When someone is smart enough and quick enough, there is no tangling.” She gave him her best smug smile and pretended her knees weren’t weak. “I worked for three different clients. One job was glorified babysitting for a three-year-old while authorities tried to find a failed kidnapper.”
Brand’s expression softened to real concern. “The child—”
“She was okay. Her father, Mr. Drayden, chased off the masked man before he got away with her.”
“Thank God.”
Sahara agreed. “Drayden wouldn’t rest until he knew who the man was and why he’d tried to kidnap his daughter, and was assured he’d remain behind bars.”