by Lori Foster
Her eyes popped open, so blue and definitely dazed. “Brand?” She frowned, then removed the Bluetooth earbuds. “What are you—”
A second later, realization hit and her eyes flared.
Forestalling any panic, Brand stood and opened the towel. “Time for bed.”
Bemused, she sat up, her gaze glued to his.
Poor choice of words. “I had no idea what you sleep in, so I just brought you one of my shirts.” He waited, showing extreme control by not looking at her body.
Still visibly confused, she stood. “I usually sleep naked.”
Water sluiced down her body, and Brand knew he was starting to sweat.
“I’m sorry I passed out.” A yawn cut her off as she stepped out of the tub and into the towel. “I’m more tired than I realized.”
“Even superheroes need rest every now and then.” He wrapped the towel around her.
She reached for the edges of the towel and started to step away.
Voice low and rough as gravel, Brand said, “Let me.”
Their gazes held, until she shrugged. “This is so odd. Not at all how I planned things.”
Yeah, not even in the same universe as his plans either. “I want to take care of you, Sahara. That doesn’t mean you can’t do it yourself. Doesn’t mean you’re weak.” He opened the towel again to begin drying her. “Just means I want to.”
Nervous fingers tucked a wet lock of hair behind her ear. “No one’s ever—”
“Good.” He kissed her forehead. “Now just relax.”
She smiled lazily. “No problem with that. I think I was out for the night. If you hadn’t woken me, I might’ve still been there in the morning.”
Had she done that before? Given the hours she kept, it wouldn’t surprise him.
He dried her as quickly as he could, yet when he glanced at her face, her eyes were closed again, her head lolling. “Hang on, honey.”
Keeping one hand on her elbow, he reached for the T-shirt and tugged it on over her head.
Standing passively, for once not trying to take over, she murmured, “It doesn’t bother you that I’m naked.”
She didn’t say it as a question, but rather a statement, so he replied the same way while feeding her arms through the sleeves. “Doesn’t seem to be bothering you either.”
“Tomorrow I might be embarrassed.” Sleepily, she slumped against him. “Promise you won’t ever tell anyone.”
Arm around her, Brand led her toward the bed. “You don’t ever have to worry about that, not with me.”
“I know.”
When he lifted the covers, she crawled in, turned on her side away from him and let out a lusty sigh.
“Get some sleep.”
She mumbled something vague and faded away.
For far too long Brand stood there beside the bed, feeling things he didn’t understand, before he convinced himself to turn out the lights and walk away. He left the door slightly ajar.
Since she didn’t want to sleep in her brother’s room, he didn’t either. After a quick shower in the other bathroom, he crashed on the couch. Wearing only his boxers, one arm stacked behind his head, he stared at the ceiling and watched the shifting lights through the open windows. It took him a long time to get to sleep when all he really wanted to do was join Sahara.
Dawn had turned the sky a grayish pink when he awoke to a sound. At first he didn’t move, not physically anyway, but his senses sharpened on high alert. He breathed slow and easy, listening.
There, he heard it again.
It was a sound that struck terror in a man’s heart.
A sniffle, a catch of breath...
Sahara was crying.
He didn’t think about whether or not she’d want privacy; there was no way in hell he could stop himself from going to her.
The door remained as he’d left it, slightly open, but thanks to the closed drapes the room was still dark. “Sahara?”
A sudden stillness, thick with dread, filled the air. “Go back to bed, Brand.”
Not on your life. He heard the tears in her voice. “What’s wrong?” Even moving closer, he could barely make her out on the bed.
“Nothing,” she whispered. “Sorry I woke you.”
Sitting on the side of the mattress, he reached for her shoulder. “Honey—”
“Please just go. I promise you, I’m fine.”
He couldn’t leave her, but grilling her right now wasn’t the right thing either. “Scoot over.”
Stunned, she half turned toward him. “What do you think you’re—”
“It’s barely dawn and I’m still tired.” He crowded in, spooning her, dragging her close against him so he could hold her tight. “Isn’t this nicer?”
His heart beat ten times before she grudgingly said, “Yes.”
He waited for her to relax, all the while willing himself not to get hard. A tough request after seeing her naked, touching her body and God, the way her ass fit against his groin...
He just held her for a while, but he knew she hadn’t gone back to sleep. Because she was still upset? It gnawed on him, the need to console her.
Keeping his voice low, he said, “Odd that you didn’t mind me seeing you naked, but you’re defensive over a few tears.”
“I’ve been naked before.”
But she never cried? He hugged her. “You definitely have no reason for modesty. I mean, I tried not to look, but I’m only human.”
Her fingertips teased over the forearm he had draped around her and pressed between her breasts. “I’m glad you looked.”
Yeah, that wasn’t going to help him keep a boner at bay. “If I’d have known that, I would’ve dumped the nobility right off.” At least her voice sounded steadier. He kissed the top of her head. “Will you tell me why you were—”
“No.”
He should let it go, but he couldn’t. “Sahara...”
With more weariness than heat, she said, “I had a dream, okay?”
His thoughts scrambled. “About the kidnapping?”
She shook her head. “About Scott. I...miss him.”
Even as he wished for a way to comfort her, he resented how much of her time she wasted on a ghost. “I know you two were really close.”
She fell silent, then finally said, “Really, I’m sorry I woke you.”
Brand squeezed her. “Stop apologizing to me.”
“Okay.” She thought for a second more, then suggested, “You could help me forget the dream.”
Temptation gnawed at him. She’d only had around six hours of sleep, and he’d probably gotten four. “You need to be at work in just a few hours.”
“Takes me less than half an hour to get ready.”
“Damn, so you are Wonder Woman? I always suspected.”
Her sharp elbow came back, landing against his abs.
Just for fun and to play along, he faked an Oof even though it hadn’t hurt.
He heard the smile in her voice when she said, “That’s for insinuating that all women primp too long in the bathroom.”
“Pretty sure that’s a basic fact of life.” This was nice, he decided, lying in the dark with Sahara, teasing, playing.
Getting ridiculously turned on.
“Brand?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m saying yes,” she whispered, “if you’ll only ask.”
So she’d felt his erection, obviously. He wanted her, very badly, but trying to think of what she needed most, he said, “I think we should talk about your brother.” He waited for her refusal.
Instead, she said, “I’ve wondered what he’d think of you.”
“Me?” The idle way her fingertips teased over his skin drove him to distraction. He kept imagining them elsewhere, making it tough to concentrate.
“Scott was good at reading people.” She turned to face him, still close, but now with her breasts against his chest.
And he hadn’t forgotten, not for a second, that she wore only the shirt.
No panties.
Now with those teasing fingers on his chest, she asked, “Have you ever been seriously involved with a woman?”
It felt like a trap, so Brand tried to think of the right thing to say.
She saved him by adding, “I was once or twice, with men, I mean, until Scott met them and realized what they were really after.”
Brand went still, absorbing that hit, then erupted with anger.
In one smooth move he flipped Sahara to her back and loomed over her. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Eyes wide in the dark, she asked, “Which part?”
“Damn it, Sahara.” He kissed her, which seemed to be his go-to move for every emotion she made him feel—anger, lust, humor, worry, sympathy...always a kiss to resolve it.
Her small, cool hands slipped up his chest to the tops of his shoulders, gently kneading. “What are these muscles called?”
“What? My traps?”
“Mmm, traps.”
“Trapezoid. Why?”
“They’re delicious.”
“No,” he said more to himself than her. “Don’t start seducing me.”
“But you’re already between my legs.”
He caught his breath, well aware of every inch of her that touched him. “Believe me, I know. Let’s both ignore it for just a minute, okay?”
“Only a minute?”
“Maybe two.” He kissed her again. “What do you mean that Scott figured out what the guys really wanted?”
“They were after connections. Financial and social. One of them had tried to get backing from Scott and failed, then he met me—”
“And probably fucking well fell in love.”
“Well, that’s what he claimed. But he hadn’t told me about his efforts with Scott, which did seem suspect, right?”
“He probably got one look at you and forgot all about Scott.”
She laughed. “You’re very sweet.”
No, he was very hard. He knew how badly he’d wanted her from the jump, so how could any other man be different? “You broke up with the guy?”
“Yes.”
“You loved him?”
“I guess not, not really. I liked him a lot, though, and I thought he was ‘the one.’ Good thing Scott knew better.”
Brand would really like to go back in time and have five minutes with her asshole brother. “Who was the second guy?”
“A farmer. I mean, I figured a farmer wouldn’t have any connection to Scott, you know?”
“Let me guess. Scott managed to dredge up something shady?”
“Don’t say it like that,” she chided. “He was looking out for me. He always had my best interest at heart.”
Brand nearly groaned. “So what was wrong with the farmer?”
“The farm was failing. I loved it, but he wanted out. Getting to my money would have been a big boost and made the transition for him much easier.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“He said we’d start over somewhere else, that between my money and what he’d make from selling the farm, we’d be in great shape.”
“Sounds reasonable to me.” Not that he’d ever touch a single cent of her money—especially now that he knew her perception of it.
“When Scott told him my inheritance was protected—”
“Scott told him?” He got angry all over again. “You didn’t tell him yourself?”
“I would have, but Scott met him and explained, and that was the end of that. He left mad and never contacted me again, which was all the proof I needed.”
“I’m not buying it.”
She drifted a foot up the back of his calf, making him tense all over. “That’s because you’re a really nice guy.”
“Odds are the guy was pissed, and insulted, and you never bothered to talk it out with him because Scott had you somehow convinced cold cash was more attractive than you are. And in that, honey, he was wrong.”
With a tiny bit of uncertainty, she asked, “You really think so?”
“Yes, and if you’re wondering what the lure is for me, it’s your attitude, your brass, your brains, your sexy body, your beautiful face, your confidence, your—”
Laughing, Sahara wrapped her long, slim legs around him. “You’re good for my ego.”
“Your ego should be huge.” He’d always thought it was. She’d coasted through a kidnapping as if she’d taken a walk through the park, but she was still so damn hurt over her brother’s indiscreet method of “protecting” her. Damn the man. “Just so you know, I have zero interest in your money.”
She drew his mouth down to hers. “Do you have interest in me?”
“I’m going to be insulted if you tell me that isn’t already obvious.” To prove his point, he nudged his straining erection against her smooth belly.
“Very obvious...that you’re interested in sex.”
“Sex with you, Sahara Silver.” Hell, he couldn’t resist her any longer—in fact, he could barely remember why he’d been resisting. Something about complications...that no longer seemed so important. Anything they had to work out, well, she was more than worth the effort.
Sahara was with him, she trusted him, she wanted him, and he was done being noble. Giving up the fight, he settled fully against her. “How could I be interested in any other woman when you’re the most unique, challenging, infuriating—”
“Hey, I liked the other compliments more!”
Brand opened his mouth on her throat. “Delicious.” He nuzzled his way down to her breasts, dragging the neckline of the big loose shirt along the way. “Fragrant.” Lathing his tongue around the nipple he exposed, he whispered, “Sweet.”
“Better,” she breathed. She sank her fingers into his hair, holding him close. “FYI,” she whispered, “I didn’t pack condoms.”
Brand smiled up at her. “I did.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
SAHARA WASN’T A timid woman, especially when it came to sex. She had no problem giving direction, stating what she liked or didn’t like, when she wanted something more, softer or harder, when slower worked better than faster...or vice versa.
With Brand, she didn’t say a single word because he already seemed to know.
Repeatedly, in between tantalizing touches all over her body, he came back to her mouth. He kissed her as if she were precious to him, then consumed her with his lust, alternating between gentle and hungry, reverent and feverish.
She couldn’t get her bearings. All she could do was feel.
His hand swept down her waist to her hip, back up again and over her breast. He seemed to be learning her, relishing each curve or hollow he found.
Just as busy touching him, Sahara explored every taut muscle in his neck, back and shoulders, down to his bulging biceps, and back up again. His skin was so sleek and hot, his hair cool and silky.
He kissed her again, his tongue stroking deep as he moved against her in a full body caress.
Liking that too much, she tightened her legs.
Brand kissed his way to her ear. “Let’s get rid of this shirt.”
He didn’t wait for her agreement, was already lifting her as if she weighed nothing, and whisking away the shirt. He handled her as easily as he would a rag doll, and at the moment, she felt just as boneless.
Now, with her naked, he reached past her for the nightstand.
For a split second, she thought he was getting her dagger and wondered why. But no, he only grabbed the remote and parted the drapes so that dawn spilled in, filling the room with a pink glow.
“Better,” he said as he slowly settled
back beside her. Balanced on a forearm, he looked her over, studying every part of her in minute detail, even her feet. “You’re fucking perfect.”
A silly smile cut through the haze of need. “Flatterer.”
When his broad hand settled over her belly, she lost the humor. He rested his hand there, not moving it except to coast his thumb back and forth over her skin, teasing her, ramping up her anticipation.
“Let’s talk for a minute.”
He had to be kidding. She dropped her head back to the pillow with a groan.
“It’s pertinent,” he promised, then leaned down to kiss the top of one breast. “I’d like to make an agreement.”
That she wouldn’t get overly involved? No, she couldn’t do that. She was already far too fond of Brand, far too fascinated and too desperate to have him, and—
“You know I have an issue with you being my boss.”
Her eyes popped open. Definitely not what she expected. Cautiously, she said, “Yes?”
“I’ve been thinking about this, and how we can make it work.” He bent to her breast again, this time softly, leisurely drawing in her nipple until her legs stiffened, her back arched and a low moan sounded from her lips.
Sitting back again, Brand stared at her breasts, lightly blew on her now-wet nipple and said, “You can be as bossy as you want—when you’re in the office or talking to your employees.”
With her heart still pounding, she said, “Gee, thanks, but I don’t need your permission to—”
“Hush.” He drew her nipple back into the heat of his mouth, and this time lightly grazed her with his teeth. “I’m agreeing that I don’t mind that commanding side of you, but while you’re with me, I think you should experience the other side of things.”
The oddest rush of excitement coursed through her. She did her best to shake it off. “I’m not sure—”
“Just listen for a minute.”
She frowned over what sounded like a command, but she kept quiet.
Pleased, Brand smiled at her. Almost as a reward, he pressed his hand downward until he cupped his palm over her sex, his long rough fingers curving into her most sensitive flesh. The touch was so stirring she nearly gasped.