Fast Burn (Body Armor #4)

He grinned. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be here.”

She hooked her arm through Brand’s. “I have a strong need to be fair.”

“Understood.” They entered through the front of the house where two security guards checked names. These men, too, gave Brand curious looks, but Sahara’s smile never slipped and since she made it clear he was her guest, they ushered them in.

“How many people are here?” Brand asked. As Sahara had said, he saw men in suits, others in work-casual clothes, and a few wearing jeans and Polo shirts.

In his black pants and button-up, with the collar open, he fit right in. Clothes-wise, anyway.

“Probably a hundred or more,” Sahara said. When someone offered to take her wrap, she shook her head and instead draped it over an arm. “Douglas heats the garden area out back, and utilizes a game room downstairs. I assume anywhere we go, it’ll be this crowded.”

“So where do you want to go?” He didn’t like standing in the open, especially with Sahara turning heads.

“Come on.” Keeping her arm in his, oblivious to all the men watching her, Sahara propelled them forward, past several rooms, to a bar set up in a wide area where many couples danced to a live band. “Drink?”

Brand told the bartender, “Cola.”

Smiling, Sahara said to him, “Party pooper.” She took a glass of wine.

When a casually dressed man approached, Brand stiffened. The man paid no attention to him at all and went straight for Sahara, his face lit with an enormous grin. “You came! I’m so glad.” He clasped her bare upper arms and drew her into an embrace.

“Of course I did. I’m a woman of my word.” Sahara dodged his kiss by leaning into Brand. “Douglas, I’d like you to meet Brand Berry. Brand, this is District Attorney Douglas Grant.”

Douglas blinked as if someone had just materialized, proving he hadn’t even noticed Brand.

Brand slipped his left arm around Sahara, but extended his right hand. “Beautiful home you have.”

Shaking off his surprise, Douglas accepted the gesture with a firm but friendly grip. “Yes, thank you. Brand, is it?”

Brand nodded.

“You two are...together?”

Why the hell did he have to look so shocked? Brand grinned to hide his insult and said, “I’m doing my best.”

Leaning forward, Sahara confided, “His best is amazing.”

“I see. Well I...” He looked beyond Brand, frowned, then turned back again. “You like the house, huh? I prefer the Hamptons. We have a quaint little cottage there... Well, you know nothing is that small in the Hamptons, not in the best areas—”

Sahara chimed in with “Isn’t that your father’s property, Douglas?”

“Yes, well...” He cleared his throat with a frown. “I don’t get away often enough to bother buying my own. When I do find time for a vacation, I enjoy it there.” After that rambling explanation, he said, “Why don’t I show you around?”

Since Brand wouldn’t mind seeing the layout, he nodded. “All right.”

Before they could take two steps, Douglas added, “Sahara, I see Lisa looking for you. Stay and visit, and I’ll bring Brand right back to you.”

No, Brand didn’t like that idea at all. “I’d rather—”

“She’ll be fine. Though it’s been a while since she visited, Sahara already knows her way around. Isn’t that right, Sahara?”

“Yes, it’s been a good long while since I visited.” She sipped her wine. “I didn’t think to ever return.”

Douglas’s smile grew brittle. “I’m glad I could persuade you.”

“Curiosity,” she explained with a small shrug. “I want to hear all about your willingness to work with me.”

Presumably it was Lisa who suddenly embraced Sahara, saving Douglas from having to reply. The woman was already talking a mile a minute. Douglas’s wife? Brand wasn’t sure, but Sahara did seem to genuinely like her.

He resisted Douglas’s efforts to lead him away, and with an apology for interrupting Lisa, leaned in to say near Sahara’s ear, “Stay here, okay?”

“Of course.”

“Right here,” he emphasized, his voice still low, his gaze holding hers. “I don’t want to have to look for you.” In a place this packed, he’d have a hell of a time finding her.

She put a hand to his jaw, brushing her fingertips over his growing beard stubble, then went on tiptoe to whisper, “I’ll stay in this room, but watch Douglas. He’s a snake.”

Brand briefly put his mouth to hers. “You look so hot.” And with that, he turned and left with Douglas, pressing through the crowd.

This was going to be the fastest tour in history.

Or so he thought.

Douglas waxed on about every room until Brand was ready to abandon him over the excess of details. They were on the upper floors, going through an elegant library that, according to Douglas, held a bunch of first editions that amounted to quite a collection, when a stacked blonde joined them.

Wearing a short black sleeveless dress and heels as high as those Sahara favored, the woman brushed back her long loose hair. She was a little on the voluptuous side, but in all the right ways.

Brand hoped she was there to interrupt the tour.

Red lips smiled when she spotted Douglas, but then her gaze transferred to Brand. She looked him over from head to toe the same way a dog ogles a meaty bone. “Douglas,” she cooed, without looking away from Brand, “you’re needed in the garden.”

“Problem?” Douglas asked.

She shrugged a bare shoulder. “Some debate that only you can decide, apparently, but don’t worry, I’ll tend to your guest.”

Smiling, Douglas said low, “I just bet you will,” and then in a normal tone, “Brand, meet Chelsea Tuttle, daughter to my wife’s dearest friend and a member of one of the most influential families in the state. Chelsea is like a niece to us. We’re very close.”

Brand nodded, uninterested in family dynamics when he’d rather be with Sahara. “I should go.”

To Chelsea, Grant stressed with strange emphasis, “Brand is here with Sahara Silver.”

“Oh really?” Gray eyes widened with mock surprise. “Sahara is here?”

“Downstairs,” Brand said, wondering if everyone knew Sahara. “And since the tour is over, I believe I’ll join her.”

“Nonsense.” Chelsea latched onto his arm. “I’ll finish showing you around.” She dismissed Douglas with a glance. “Go tend to your party. I’ll handle this.”

As if he’d been ordered by the president, Douglas smiled and walked out.

Brand decided to follow. “Thank you, Chelsea, but I better get back.” He attempted to free his arm.

She held on, even leaning closer so that her perfume filled his head and her boobs rested against his biceps. “Sahara does hold a tight leash, I know, but surely she can manage without you for a few minutes more.”

Irony at its finest, since it was Chelsea who wouldn’t let go. “You know her well?”

“I hired her agency once, back when her brother ran things.” Her other hand brushed his thigh. “She was underfoot even then, making a nuisance of herself.”

“A nuisance?” Brand already disliked the woman. He stepped back, away from her wandering fingers. “If you really do know Sahara, you know that’s not true. Whatever she does, she does better than anyone else could do it.”

Chelsea leaned in again, and this time she more boldly caressed him. “Well, well, she has you smitten, doesn’t she?”

Brand laughed even as he took her wrist and removed her hand. “If you mean I think she’s amazing, then yes. Hell, she’s the smartest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

Chelsea blinked, at a loss for words. Unfortunately, it didn’t last. “Maybe there are things about her you don’t know.”

There was nothing he wanted to hear from Chelsea Tuttle. “And maybe you’re just jealous of her?” When she gasped, he added, “It’s understandable, but still unattractive.”

She was so surprised by the direct insult, he finally managed to free himself.