“Anything else?” He continued to study the picture. “The clothes she’s wearing?”
“I sent those to her...” Probably best to come clean, she decided. “Five outfits in all, I believe, more if she mixes and matches them.”
When his icy gaze finally came to her, he zeroed in on her bandaged head and his mouth flattened.
He was too subdued for the anger she knew he had to feel, the anger she could see. Suddenly it hit her why.
Slowly she stood. Guilty or not, she wouldn’t let him treat her like a wilting flower. “Oh no, you don’t. Don’t hold back just because I got a bump on the head. I keep telling you I’m fine.” She held out her arms. “If you want to blast me for overstepping, have at it. I won’t break.”
A strange, turbulent emotion narrowed his dark eyes.
He looked so explosive that she quickly added, “My only request is that you do so in private.”
After a long, silent moment, he smirked. “Because you’re the boss and you don’t want your underlings to see you catching hell?”
Damn, he made her feel small. She lifted her chin. “Actually, because they’re friends. At least I think they are. The ladies said we were, so I assumed—”
He laughed, but it wasn’t a nice sound.
Before she’d met Brand, she seldom suffered uncertainty or angst over a decision. She’d always pushed forward with confidence.
Now, though, it seemed those unfamiliar feelings leveled her on a regular basis.
Yes, she had done things he’d asked her not to but it had felt right at the time because she knew, in the long run, it would help him.
Because she liked to face things head-on, Sahara released a slow breath and admitted softly, “Every time I turn around, I find myself in another impossible position with you.”
Maybe it was the resignation in her tone, but Brand’s gaze sharpened on her. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
She rolled one shoulder. “I wanted you to work for me, and I also wanted to date you. Big conflict, right?”
“You understand my position on that.”
Yes—he thought she was too bossy, especially when he preferred to be the boss. “Then there’s Ross Moran.”
“He sent his buddies after you again today.”
“I know.” She was eternally grateful that they hadn’t gotten to her, and that Brand hadn’t been hurt. “But I still need to talk to him to get info on my brother, and you just want to annihilate him.”
Agitated, Brand folded his arms. “He’s still breathing, isn’t he? I can show restraint when necessary.”
She picked up a cat, holding it in her arms like a baby, taking comfort from its rumbling purr. “Now this.” Her head started to pound but she didn’t think it had anything to do with hitting the windshield, not when her chest also felt tight, and her throat was getting thick.
If she didn’t know better, she might have thought she was choked up.
She kissed the cat’s head, nuzzling the soft fur. “You won’t give me a chance to explain, but I was trying to help with your mother.”
“I told you to stay out of it.”
“I know.” It bothered her that she’d upset him. “The thing is, I’m not good at staying out of situations, especially not if I think I can help.” She looked up at him, owning her flaws, admitting the truth. “I’m the type of person who is going to dive in. That’s just me, Brand.” And it would probably be one more thing he disliked. “I’m sorry.”
He ran a hand over the back of his neck, checked that no one was close, then pinned her with a heated stare. “As long as my mother remains sour and difficult, I can resent helping her. But if she starts showing appreciation, then I’m going to feel like an ass for being so surly about it.”
Her eyes widened. “You want to resent her?”
“After a lifetime, it’s what I’m used to.” He looked away. “And she doesn’t deserve anything more.”
“No, she doesn’t.” But Brand did. Softening her voice in deference to his mood, Sahara said, “I wasn’t thinking about her when I decided to—”
“Interfere?”
Helpless to deny that, she shrugged. “Yes.”
Hindsight was a bitch, but seeing things from Brand’s perspective, Sahara had to admit that she’d badly miscalculated. She didn’t blame him for being angry.
She again said, “I’m sorry.” Truthfully, she didn’t think she was a bad person, but maybe she had to do more introspection. She would better accomplish that on her own, away from outside influences.
Away from Brand.
She was just about to explain that to him when her phone dinged again.
Brand glanced at it and one brow climbed high. “Your anonymous tipster this time.”
She squeezed into his side so she could read the message as well.
Don’t go out alone. It’s not safe. Trust no one.
*
“CRYPTIC BASTARD,” BRAND GROWLED.
Sahara glared up at him. “That’s probably my brother.”
He didn’t care if it was the pope. Sahara deserved a direct reply, not all this cat and mouse bullshit where neither of them knew what to think.
It enraged him when he thought of the danger surrounding her. She’d been kidnapped by a goon bold enough to approach her at an exclusive party, had shots fired near her and been nearly run off the road.
Brand had a feeling the danger was ramping up rather than receding, and it left him helpless to ensure her safety, especially when she appeared so cavalier about it.
That alone made him more disgruntled than usual, but add to that the text from his mother...
Sahara had made Becky smile.
How long had it been since he’d seen his mother happy? Probably...never.
Over the years, whenever she’d come by, it hadn’t been to visit him but to squeeze money out of Ann. Most times, she barely noticed her son, and when she did notice him, it wasn’t to share a soft word of affection or to show any caring. Not once had she given even a hint of regret for letting him go.
She’d seen him only as a tool she could use to her own advantage.
In fact, she’d never sought him out until her cardiac arrest. Then, with no one else that she could turn to, she’d suddenly remembered that she had a son.
He didn’t like being bitter; it made him feel like the sulky, hurt kid he’d once been, yet he couldn’t stop the corrosive resentment from eating away at him like acid.
Sahara had pampered Becky, when she wasn’t the type to do that. She’d gotten Becky to smile, when Brand thought his mother didn’t know how.
Sahara was fucking friendly with her, even though the woman had abandoned him.
Screwed up as it might be, that somehow felt like a betrayal.
He wanted to unleash his frustrated anger, but he was at a disadvantage. Despite the brave front she put on, Sahara was hurt and he didn’t want to exacerbate her discomfort.
“Since you think this is your brother, I assume you’ll follow his instructions and show more caution?”
She chewed her lip. “Scott could be in trouble. He might need me.”
“Un-fucking-believable.”
She scowled. “You know I don’t like that word.”
“I don’t like you intruding into my private business, but that didn’t stop you, did it?”
The careless insult made her wince, but a second later she squared off with him. Pointing at the phone, she snapped, “Then maybe you should remember that this is my private business.”
Huh. She’d certainly turned that one around on him. “You’re determined to get yourself killed, aren’t you?”
Sahara snorted. “You keep thinking I’m an idiot when I’m not. I know how to make good decisions, and I will, but I don’t need you or my brother dictating to me about when and where I go or what I can do.”
So it wasn’t just him she’d defy, but Scott, too?
A little floored, Brand stared at her. That wasn’t at all what he’d expected. Sure, he knew Sahara defined independence, but he’d somehow gotten the impression she worshiped her brother and fell into line over his every request. “I would’ve bet money you did whatever big brother told you to.”