The look on her face stirred him again. It was getting ridiculous, the over-the-top way he reacted to her. “I’m glad you like it.”
“You know I enjoy pastries in the morning.”
“Not a pastry,” he pointed out. After she’d taken another bite, he said, “It’s actually healthy since it’s made with a lot of grains.”
“No way.”
“And low calorie.”
“That proves it. You’re a magician.”
A crooked smile tugged at his mouth. “Because I can make food taste good without dumping in a pound of sugar?”
The heated look she sent his way nearly destroyed his resolve. “Cooking is just one of your talents.” She sipped her coffee and made more sounds of appreciation. “So I know this might be awkward, but I need to know—will you be here again tonight? You did mention a relationship and I’m hoping it comes with more of these amazing benefits.”
“I’ll be here.”
She nodded. “And tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow, too.”
She grinned. “You’re so agreeable, should I keep pushing?”
“No, you should finish eating so I can walk you down.”
That had her face falling. “You’re leaving?”
“Wasn’t really planning on it, but I don’t want to be in your way either.”
“So you have the whole day free?”
As soon as she asked it, his cell rang. After glancing at the screen, he growled, “Maybe not.”
She started to ask, but then her cell rang, too, only she’d left it in the bedroom. She grabbed another quick bite then rushed down the hall to retrieve it.
When she returned a few minutes later, he was still on the phone, and she didn’t offer him privacy, so he turned his back on her. “Becky,” he said into the phone, his voice strained, “the PT is necessary, so stop giving everyone a hard time.”
Becky, his mother, said in a slurred voice, “This blockhead doesn’t understand that I’m in pain. I want him fired.”
He sighed. Odds were the very qualified physical therapist would quit, given Becky’s impossible nature. “You’re not in a facility, you have around-the-clock care and you’re getting better. Why can’t you just be happy with that?”
Her voice rose to a screech. “You expect me to be happy? You dump me here and just wash your hands of me, like—”
“Like you did to me?” When he’d been only five.
She whined, “I did you a favor and you know it.”
Yeah, he knew it well.
“Come and see me, Brand. Pleeease.”
For him, her voice grated like nails on a chalkboard.
“You know I’m not supposed to get upset. I’m not supposed to be depressed or sad. But you make me so damn angry and so sad all I can do is cry!”
Every nerve ending in his body rebelled, but damn it, he didn’t know what else to do. “Fine. I’ll visit later.”
“When?”
“I don’t know yet, but until then, do what the therapist tells you.” He disconnected before she could say anything else.
Dreading it, he slowly turned to face Sahara. She was back in her seat, eating the last crumb off her plate and making no pretense of not sympathizing with him.
“Stop it,” he told her, grabbing up his coffee and finishing it off. He didn’t want her pity.
Instead of responding directly, she told him, “Leese won’t drink coffee.”
“Leese is a fanatic about health. He’s the one who taught me that recipe.”
Sahara nodded. “I just like sweets, but Catalina survives on junk food. Or rather, she used to. These days Leese does most of the cooking and he’s managed to convince her that good-tasting food can be good for her.”
Relieved that she didn’t press him, Brand said, “She still indulges in the occasional pizza, cheese coney or fast-food burger.”
“Mmm,” she said. “Cheese coneys, with the steamed hotdog, the chili, all that cheese on a bun...”
“So you’re a fan, too.”
“Hey, a girl’s gotta live.”
They smiled together.
Then Sahara ruined it by saying, “I’ll go with you.”
He knew exactly what she meant, and refused without a second thought. “No.”
Supremely confident, she finished her coffee and stood. “Well, I say yes because later in the week, you’re going to want to go with me and turnabout is fair play, right?”
“Go with you where?”
Hip out, she smiled at him. “District Attorney Douglas Grant is having a little party Saturday and I’m invited. Naturally, I declined, because Douglas is not only a pig, he’s also crooked and I dislike him very much. But he promised that he had a good reason for inviting me, that he hopes to make peace between us and in fact, it’s suddenly his fondest wish to work with me instead of against me.” She flipped back her hair. “So I agreed.”
“Jesus, Sahara.”
“I assumed you wouldn’t want me to go alone.” She carried her cup and plate to the dishwasher, placing them inside. “But of course, I have no problem doing that if you have other plans.”
As she straightened, Brand took her arm and turned her into him. “We’re not at the office.”
Those crystal-blue eyes sparkled. “So?”
“So, I want you to behave.” He had long arms and he only had to bend a little to slide a hand up the back of her thigh—under her dress.
Her eyes went heavy. “What are you doing?”
“Ensuring I have your attention.”
“You have it.”
He cupped the bottom of her cheek, barely covered by tiny silky panties. “Then stop trying to provoke me.”
“Is that what I was doing?”
Giving her a stern look, he slipped one finger over the crotch of the panties. With her dress scrunched up in the back, he arched her toward him, easy to do with the heels she wore.
Fighting a grin, Sahara bit her lip.
He loved seeing her like this, confident as always but game to play, amused and turned on. “You were trying to manipulate me again, but we had an agreement and you will stick to it.”
She nodded.
“Better.” Hell, it was all he could do not to grin as well. She looked so adorably obedient, as only Sahara could. “You shouldn’t be going to a party, but,” he said, emphasizing the word before she could voice her ready complaints, “my part of the bargain was that I wouldn’t interfere with work. So we’ll go—”
She said a happy little “Yay!”
“—but you’ll be careful, and by that I mean you’ll stay where I can see you.” He didn’t trust this sudden party, or the smarmy DA who wanted to make peace. The timing was off, coming on the heels of her being kidnapped. “I’ll want to know more about this Douglas Grant person.”
A little breathy, she said, “I can tell you all about him on our way to your visit today.”
He wasn’t taking her anywhere near his mother. “Not happening.”
She heaved a sigh. “You’re going to be so annoyed with me.”
“Because.?”
“Because I have resources, and if you go without me, I’ll figure out where, and then I’ll follow.”
“No—”
“And while I know that’s not following the letter of our agreement, I hope you’ll forgive me.” She put her arms around his neck and rested the side of her face against his chest. “You promised me that we’re in a relationship, and that’s what people in a relationship do: they support each other.”
“I don’t need support.” Yet he tunneled the fingers of his free hand into her hair and, with his other hand still under her dress, held her closer.
“Maybe,” she whispered, “I should go with you because I need the support.”
That didn’t make a bit of sense, but Brand kissed her forehead and, as usual, gave in. “All right. But I promise you’re going to regret it.”
*
MIDWAY THROUGH THE DAY, after she’d gone over a hundred photos and still hadn’t seen her kidnapper, Enoch stuck his head in the door.
“Mr. Wallington on line one.”
She blinked up from her study of computer files and saw why Enoch hadn’t simply used the intercom. The blessed man carried in lunch.
“You’re too good to me.”
“Not possible,” he said, sliding a sandwich and soup from Panera in front of her, along with a frosty green tea. “Your favorites, so eat, okay?”