It was no wonder she’d awakened with a smile in place.
Even more important than the incredible sex was that Brand hadn’t let her ruin things. He’d taken her doubts and somehow reassured her without letting her off the hook for meddling in his private business. Now, after a good night’s sleep and a new perspective, Sahara was so glad.
They’d still have to talk about Becky, but at least she felt he’d listen to her explanations and maybe give her ideas a chance to work.
She also thought about his denial at being perfect. Without the glum attitude of yesterday, she could think about that more realistically.
Brand was right; he wasn’t perfect.
Suddenly he stirred, his arm tightening around her in a brief hug before he even opened his eyes.
Sounding sexy and sleepy, he rumbled, “Good morning, gorgeous.”
“Morning.” She half crawled over him, her elbows on his chest. “Sleep well?”
“After the way you wore me out? Yeah.”
“Me?” She gave him a laughing kiss. “I’m the one who was tortured with orgasms.”
“Tortured, huh?” His lashes lifted and his dark, smoky eyes met hers. “I love watching you come, Sahara.”
“In that case, feel free to do a repeat whenever you want.”
His hands slid down her back to her bottom, and she quickly found herself completely over him, her legs trapped between his. “I don’t suppose we have time this morning?”
She glanced at the clock, then let out a sigh of disappointment. “Lucky I’m the boss, because I’m already running late.”
He lightly touched the bandage on her head. “I’m sure everyone will understand under the circumstances.”
Sahara frowned. “I thought about what you said, and came to the conclusion that you’re right.”
Wariness entered his eyes. “About what?”
“You not being perfect.” She gave him a quick kiss so he wouldn’t be insulted. “Case in point is your insistence that a little bump on the head is a big deal. You know if it had been Justice, you wouldn’t have given it a thought.”
His gaze drifted down to her exposed cleavage, exaggerated by the way her breasts squashed against his chest. “Justice was a fighter. He’s had plenty of head wounds and knows how to judge if it’s serious or not.”
“You think Justice has more sense than me?”
“Justice might act goofy, but he’s not. Besides, this is about experience, not intelligence.”
She gave that some thought, and decided to let it go. “You also accused me of being bossy, but I think you’re even bossier.”
He smiled. “When it comes to keeping you safe, you bet.” He had both hands back on her rear, gently kneading. “And for the record, I like your bossiness. Your strength and independence are both sexy as hell.”
Sahara reared up more to give him a look of incredulity. “You definitely made it sound like a complaint.”
“For me to work for you, yeah. But not for this.” He pressed a growing erection to her belly. “Not for a relationship.”
“Oh.” It was hard to concentrate when she felt him full and hard, throbbing beneath her. “Well, I think you’re a little too autocratic.”
“You would, since you like doing things your own way without answering to anyone. But that’s what relationships are, honey. Give and take.”
“What are you going to give?”
He smiled. “How about we have this discussion over coffee?”
So what he’d give would require a whole discussion? “Count me in.” She couldn’t wait to hear it. “I’ll get the coffee started and then meet you in the kitchen in fifteen minutes.” She scrambled off the bed and headed for the bathroom without waiting for a reply.
When she emerged a few minutes later, her face washed and her teeth brushed, Brand was no longer in the bed. She pulled on his discarded shirt from yesterday and went to the kitchen to make the coffee.
Back in her bedroom, she chose an outfit to wear and quickly dressed, stepped into her shoes and contained her hair in a long, sleek ponytail fastened at the nape of her neck.
She applied her usual makeup in under five minutes, then headed to the kitchen. With smug satisfaction, she saw that she’d beat Brand in getting ready.
Yes, she was competitive, and whenever possible she tried to prove that she wasn’t the stereotypical female who needed hours to prepare for her day.
She’d just filled her coffee cup when her cell phone rang. For a heartbeat she stared at it, then at the doorway to see if Brand would come charging in. He’d gotten decidedly protective about the anonymous messages she’d received.
He didn’t appear, so she assumed he hadn’t heard the ring.
Finally ungluing her feet from the floor, Sahara lunged forward and glanced at the screen. It was Enoch.
Anxious, she snatched up the phone and swiped her thumb across the screen. “Enoch, good morning. Everything okay?”
“Good morning, Sahara.”
Recognizing something in his tone, she asked breathlessly, “What’s the matter?”
He paused, then gave a short laugh. “I never could keep anything from you.”
“Why would you want to?” Again, she looked to ensure Brand hadn’t approached without her notice. She lowered her voice to keep from drawing his attention, in case he could hear her. “You’re my bestie, Enoch. You can tell me anything.”
“It’s just that I’d prefer you not get your hopes up...or do anything crazy.”
“It’s about Scott, isn’t it?” Her brother was the only topic that could get her hopes up, or make her do crazy things.
She hadn’t yet had a chance to update Enoch on her weekend. She would have done that first thing this morning.
After doing a happy twirl across the kitchen floor, she said, “Tell me!”
“It might be Scott. I would have explained when you reached the office, but Brand usually escorts you down and then you have a meeting right after, so I figured I’d call...”
“You’re killing me, Enoch.” She felt like she might jump out of her skin in anticipation. “What is it?”
“Your PI called me. I didn’t understand why at first, but he had a message to pass along and he was instructed that no one else should know.”
“Meaning he didn’t want to chance calling me directly?”
“Supposedly an order that came from Scott. But since the PI has never spoken with Scott, he can’t say for sure, and that means you have to be extra, extra cautious. Promise me, Sahara.”
“A message?” From the day her brother had gone missing, she’d had a PI looking for him. Every day she hoped for a clue, any clue, that proved Scott was still around. “What message?”
He spilled everything in a rush. “Someone claiming to be Scott called and said he’d been aware of the investigation for a while, and apparently had been dodging detection, but now he feels he has to reach out to you. He wants you to meet him tonight.”
Already planning on how she’d make it happen, she demanded, “Where?”
“Promise me, first, or I won’t tell you anything else. I need your word that you’ll be careful.”
“Of course. ‘Careful’ is my middle name.”
“No,” he corrected with exaggerated patience. “‘Insanely reckless and impetuous’ is your middle name. Especially where Scott is concerned.”
Sahara squeezed the phone and frowned. “What is the message?”
Enoch groaned. “The person claiming to be Scott wants to meet with you privately. Just you and no one else. He said he doesn’t know these new bodyguards you’ve brought on board, and you’ve all but retired the established guards.”
Sahara went on defense without thinking about it. “The men I hired are better in every single way. It figures that Scott would second-guess me! Usually I concede to his judgment, but not this time.”
“If it turns out it really is Scott, you can tell him all about it. But my concern is that he wants you to come alone.”
Since she totally believed Scott was alive and arranging to reconnect with her, she waved off Enoch’s worry. “Where?”
Enoch sighed. “I don’t know exactly, but he said it’s where the two of you used to go to talk.”
She didn’t have to think about it at all; she knew exactly where he meant. “It’s definitely Scott!”