Olsen obligingly went limp, allowing Ross to wrest the gun from his hand.
“Andy was right,” he said with bitter resentment around his great gulps of air. “You fucked us, didn’t you?”
“Actually, he’s in it as deep as you are.” Brand snatched the gun out of Ross’s hand and tossed it to Miles, who’d been about to help Justice get his foot out of the floor. “Maybe deeper.”
Ross groaned. As he turned, he said, “I don’t suppose you’d—”
Brand hit him hard enough to send him sprawling over Olsen again. Both men grunted.
Legs braced apart, shoulders bunched and fists clenched, Brand said, “Get up.”
Ross looked past him to Sahara.
She laughed. “Don’t look at me, you cretin. You brought this on yourself.”
“I tried to help you!”
“After you made me take off my skirt.”
Groaning, he shifted his wary gaze to Brand. “It wasn’t like that, man. I wanted them to believe I was still on board with their idiot plans so I could—”
Brand hauled him up, which given Ross’s size was no easy feat, and threw another punch.
Ross blocked it and took a swing of his own.
Big miscalculation, Sahara thought, when Brand took the blow, grinned and then landed several of his own against Ross, first hitting his face, then his gut, then his face again, ending with a kick to the sternum that sent him sprawling once more, this time to the hard, dirty floor.
With a sigh, she stood upright. “That’s enough.”
“I’m just getting started,” Brand said.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that.” Holding tight to the blanket, she stepped around the pew and headed for Brand. “Not only will you destroy the rickety floor, but what Ross said is true. He protected me tonight.”
“Tonight, but that doesn’t explain—”
“He didn’t know anything about them ramming us on the road, or this cockeyed kidnapping plan tonight,” she explained. “If Olsen hadn’t called him, he wouldn’t even be here.”
Sluggishly, Ross sat up. “A little late, honey.”
Going tense all over again, Brand took a step forward.
Sahara grabbed his arm. “Brand, no.” Then to Ross, she blasted, “Imbecile! Don’t you know when to keep quiet?”
He touched his swollen mouth. “I’ll start now.”
Scott came through the door, one arm bandaged, a hand on the back of his head. “Too late. The cops are here and they’re going to be real interested in everything you have to say.”
Ross looked at him. “You and I have some private talking to do?”
Scott gave a mean smile. “I’m counting on it, you bastard.”
“Me?” Ross pointed at Brand. “He’s the one who was cozying up with Chelsea Tuttle.”
Brand locked his jaw. “I wasn’t, but what does that twit have to do with anything?”
Bemused, Scott said, “She’s the one who hired out my murder.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SAHARA COULDN’T REMEMBER ever being so tired. After a lot of talking to the police, and then a visit to the hospital, the night had dragged on into dawn before they finally headed home.
At the emergency room, a physician checked her, Scott and Brand, but no one was seriously hurt. Scott’s arm was cleaned and more properly bandaged. Luckily, neither Brand nor Scott had a concussion, but given their scowls, they both had killer headaches.
She got a tetanus shot after Brand noticed the deep scratch on the back of her calf from the rusty edge of the boat. One of the doctors found her a pair of scrub pants to wear. They were far more comfortable than the blanket.
Against her objections, Scott planned to spend the night at the house. She’d have rather kept him at the suite with her, where she could ensure he wouldn’t disappear again, but then, he and Brand weren’t exactly seeing eye to eye, so perhaps a little time was in order. In any case, she didn’t have the energy to argue about it.
They would all meet up at the office at noon, hopefully better rested.
For a while there, adrenaline had carried her through, but as soon as they arrived at the agency, she crashed. She could barely get one foot in front of the other.
The night guards watched warily as Brand, with an arm around her, helped her to the elevator. To everyone they passed, Brand said, “She’s fine, but it was a hell of a night. Sahara can explain tomorrow.”
She’d made many friends at the agency, she realized. These people cared about her. That was nice.
Of course, she wouldn’t be their boss any longer. She’d always known that when Scott returned, everything would change again.
Exhaustion kept her smile dim, but it was there.
Her brother was home.
Maybe she’d find a way to stay involved in the agency, but if it didn’t work out, she was okay with that.
She had everything she needed.
Inside the elevator, she turned her face up to see Brand. His expression remained stark.
She touched his jaw. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
If anything, his mood further darkened. “Yeah.” He bent and pressed a firm kiss to her forehead. “Do you want a quick shower, or just to hit the bed?”
“Hit the bed,” she said with an inelegant yawn. “I’m not sure I could stay awake for a shower.”
Indulgent, he promised, “We’ll shower together in the morning.”
He got her inside the suite then removed her coat and his own before scooping her up and carrying her to the bedroom.
Her hair had dried in matted clumps, the rain had smeared her makeup, but they were both alive and that’s what mattered. Thinking about all the close calls lately made her start to shake.
Brand methodically stripped her, pulled back the covers and helped her into the bed. She wanted to protest the gentle treatment, but she honestly didn’t have it in her.
She remembered the discussion of strength she’d had with the women. Smiling sleepily, she said, “I see what they mean now.”
“Who?”
“Catalina, Maxi and Fallon.” She snuggled into the pillow and closed her eyes. “Fallon insisted that Justice was stronger than her.”
Brand asked, “That was in doubt?”
She heard one shoe drop, then the other. “We were mostly talking about emotional strength and independence. But Maxi said it’s nice to lean on Miles.” She opened her eyes and found Brand stepping out of his jeans and underwear. He tossed them into the pile with the rest of their discarded clothes. “Thank you for letting me lean on you.”
He got into bed and curved around her, his chest to her back, his arms drawing her snug against him. “Thank you for trusting me.”
She loved him, so of course she trusted him. “Brand?”
“Sleep, Sahara.” He kissed her shoulder. “We’ll have plenty of time to work out all the kinks.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
She was almost out when he whispered, “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
She smiled...and faded into sleep.
*
BRAND WAS SO testy he almost didn’t recognize himself. The bruise on Sahara’s cheek had darkened. Combined with the cut on her temple and the scratch on her calf, she looked battered, yet she’d smiled at him as if nothing had happened.
After coffee, where she chatted in her normal way, they’d showered together.
She’d come on to him. She’d actually wanted sex before meeting everyone in the office.
Brand didn’t know what to think about that, but he hadn’t refused her. He didn’t think he ever could.
Hell, he wanted her all the time.
The sex had been a little desperate, at least on her part, as if she needed the physical reassurance in order to face the emotional turmoil ahead. Aware of her injuries, he’d wanted to be careful with her, but she’d been frantic in her demands. He’d gotten her off first with his mouth, then again by sliding into her hard, the pace fast and deep.
Now she was dressed in her usual chic business attire with a formfitting dark skirt that made her ass look great, a cashmere sweater that fit her breasts to perfection and those I’m-the-boss heels. She’d left her hair loose and, other than the scrapes and bruises, she looked like a million bucks.
Like a very sexy million bucks.