Unfortunately, as he headed out the door, she followed, and before he could make it down the stairs she’d plastered herself back to his side, determined to boldly grope him.
For some reason, that made him even more anxious to get to Sahara. He had a bad feeling about things. Concern spiking, he ignored Chelsea and lengthened his stride.
He needed to know Sahara wasn’t in danger. He needed to see her now.
*
SAHARA AND DOUGLAS’S SISTER, Lisa, whom she hadn’t seen in a year, moved to a quieter corner to speak. She remained in plain sight, just opposite of the busy bar. Still, she watched for Brand. He was so protective that she wouldn’t be surprised to see him back in five minutes.
“You’re smiling,” Lisa said. “Does the happiness have anything to do with that godlike hunk you brought along?”
Odd how the sister could be so nice, and the brother be such scum. Sahara let her smile widen. “It has everything to do with him.”
“Are we getting serious?”
“Actually,” Sahara said, “I tried to convince him to work for me. He’d make an amazing bodyguard.”
Lisa leaned closer to guess “But he refused because he’d rather get busy in bed? Nice.”
Since that was so close to the truth, Sahara laughed. “He’s actually an MMA fighter, but he’s thinking of retiring from that. Until he makes up his mind, though, I don’t stand much chance of getting him to hire on.”
“Hello, Sahara.”
That particular deep voice, coming so close behind her, stole Sahara’s breath. She jerked around—and came face-to-face with her kidnapper. At first, she merely gaped. How had he gotten in here? How dare he approach her so publicly?
Seeing him in a lighted room, in a comforting crowd, gave her a whole new perspective. Yes, he was still big, and she realized he could still be threatening, but freshly shaved, his sandy brown hair combed back, his suit stylish, he seemed less a monster and more a controllable man.
You can do this, Sahara. He wouldn’t dare hurt you here.
For a few seconds her pounding heart kept her silent as they stared at each other, unblinking, her astounded and him pleased.
“What are you doing here?” she finally got out.
“You and I have unfinished business.” His gaze moved over her, belying any menace in those words. “God, you’re beautiful, even more than I realized.”
Hoping for a few minutes to think, Sahara turned to Lisa—but she was gone, drawn away into conversation with a nearby group. Her thoughts scrambled as she tried to decide what to do, and a second later she felt a big firm hand clasp her upper arm.
That was alarming enough, but then warm breath said into her ear, “Don’t run off. What are the odds of us meeting like this?”
She’d bet the odds were pretty damn good, since he’d obviously kept tabs on her to know where she’d be and when. Her entire body urged her to flee, but she wasn’t a coward and here, in this safe setting, might be her best chance to question him.
That is, if she could get some moisture back into her dry mouth, and tamp down on the internal trembling.
Bravado was her friend, and she turned back to him, her gaze direct and her voice cold. “Get your hands off me.”
He slid his loosened hold down her arm in a slow caress that gradually allowed her fingers to slip free. Undisturbed by her rancor, he casually leaned a shoulder against the wall. “I knew you’d be stunning tonight, but I never expected—” “You dare to come into the home of the district attorney?”
Rather than be alarmed by that disclosure, he flouted polite societal rules by taking a deep swig of his beer straight from the longneck bottle, his gaze never leaving hers. “You hoped to set me back on my heels, maybe panic me a little, didn’t you? Obviously, you don’t know that Douglas and I are old friends.” He smiled. “We go way back. We—”
“So this was a setup?” She had no doubt Douglas Grant associated with unsavory sorts, being so sleazy himself, but to invite one of those cohorts to a party? No, he would never. The only thing Grant cared more about than his twisted pleasure was his reputation and power. He wouldn’t risk those idly. “That’s why Douglas invited me, isn’t it? It wasn’t about him making peace with me at all.” She saw his surprise. “What do you have on him? I assume you used blackmail?”
His gaze gleamed...with admiration? She wasn’t sure.
Then he said, “Not much gets by you, does it?” in a way that confirmed he was impressed.
She waved it away. “I know Douglas, who and what he is. I should have thought of blackmailing him myself.”
Suddenly the hulk straightened and held out his hand. “What do you say we start over? I’m Ross Moran.”
Sahara ignored the gesture. “How do you know my brother?”
With a small smile, he let his hand fall back to his side. “He hired me for a job.”
“When?”
One brow lifted. “Not long before the yacht incident, actually.”
With a curl of her lip, she assured him, “I would have known if he’d hired thugs.”
“I’m not a thug,” he protested. “And yes, under usual circumstances, you probably would have known. This was private, though, and for a while, Scott and I were close.” He gazed down at her. “Close enough that I knew all about you.”
She found it very hard to believe that Scott had discussed her with a kidnapper.
Ross continued, saying, “Unfortunately, when things got...tricky, he tucked in his tail, ran away and refused to pay up. That’s the truth.”
Strange, but she believed him—at least that things had gotten tricky and that he hadn’t been paid. Scott wouldn’t have run away, though. If he avoided the mess, there was a good reason. “What job?”
“Like I said, it was private. So here, in the DA’s house, is not the place to discuss it.” Ross moved closer, suggesting huskily, “Have dinner with me, Sahara.”
She did not like the way he said her name, almost savoring it. “Sure, when hell freezes over.” Something occurred to her and she asked, “Did you twist Douglas’s arm to get him to lead Brand away?”
“Brand?”
“The man who came here with me.”
He lifted one thick shoulder. “You know how Douglas likes to brag. He was probably hoping to impress your friend.”
So he’d been watching her since her arrival? Of course he had. She suppressed a shudder of disquiet and lifted her chin. “Oh, he’s more than a friend.”
Ross’s attention dipped to her mouth. “Too bad for him, because I don’t like competition.”
Her eyes widened. Had he just issued a threat against Brand? She glared. “He has none.”
Ross let that go. “I had hoped you would come alone. It would’ve been easier, but you should know, I’m not going to let anyone get in my way.”
That was definitely a threat, damn it. She breathed more deeply, and leaned into his space to ask “You consider me stupid?”
He smiled, saying with admiration, “Far from it. I’ve never met a woman more clever than you, or more complicated. You look all soft and delicate, but I’m learning you have a backbone of steel.”
“It surprises you that I’m a strong woman? Careful, Mr. Moran, your sexism is showing through.”
He didn’t deny it. “Most women want to be coddled. And call me Ross.”
“I’d rather not. Our...association is going to be as brief as I can manage.”
“Funny,” he said. “I’m planning just the opposite.”
If she thought too much about his plans, she’d lose her facade of nonchalance. “Tell me about the job.”
“Join me for dinner.”
She shook her head and offered a compromise. “You could come to my office.”
He snorted a laugh. “Now who thinks who is stupid?”
“Oh, there should be no doubt what I think of you, Mr. Moran. Stupid is only the beginning of a litany of insults. After all, if Brand finds you here, he’ll—”
“Kill me?” Ross asked, unconcerned.
“You’re judging others through a very small prism of your own character. Brand is not a murderer. But he’ll make you wish you were dead.”
“Don’t let it get around, but I’m not a murderer either.” He smiled. “And so you know, I’m not as unskilled as my men. If you think he’d have an easy time with me—”