As they headed to the office, she continued to chat, about nothing and about weighty decisions.
“I’m starving. I hope Enoch can rustle up some food, but maybe pastry first.”
“Enoch is adaptable. He can manage anything you request.”
“I’ve gotten used to the suite. I think if Scott plans to move back into the house, I’ll just stay here.” She glanced at him, brows lifted in inquiry. “You like the suite, don’t you?”
“Sure.” Was this her way of inviting him to stay? He had his own place, too, but his apartment didn’t hold any sentimental value. He could ditch it without a qualm.
“I wonder if they’ve made any other arrests yet.”
“I imagine they took care of it last night.” Scott claimed that Chelsea Tuttle had arranged his “murder.” It wouldn’t be easy to prove since she hadn’t been on the yacht during the attempt. Considering that Douglas Grant, with all his influence and power as the district attorney, considered her a niece, implicating her might even be impossible.
Right before they stepped into the office, Sahara stopped her chatter and slipped her hand into his.
Brand paused. Seeing her vulnerable last night had been unsettling but he’d recognized it as an aftereffect of being utterly depleted both physically and emotionally.
Today she was back to her usual energetic self, an unstoppable force, a whirlwind...and yet she’d taken his hand as if she needed support.
She had it, of course. Always. But he couldn’t shake off a niggling worry that something wasn’t sitting right with her.
He could have lost her.
Pulling her around to face him, Brand cupped one hand to her warm, satiny cheek. “What’s going on, baby?”
She gave him a wobbly smile. “I guess I’m just a little nervous.”
“Sahara Silver, super shark?” His thumb teased over the corner of her mouth. “Nervous about what?”
She glanced around, saw that they were alone in the outer office and exhaled a big breath. “Everything is up in the air. Now that Scott has returned, what will I do?”
“Do?”
She laughed and dropped her forehead against him, hiding her uncertainty. “This is his business again. I swear, I’m happy to give it up to have him back, but I feel... I don’t know.” She leaned back to search his face, then admitted, “Lost.”
“You’re not lost when you’re with me.”
“Am I with you?” She stared up at him with near desperation. “I know my being the boss was a problem for you. Since I won’t be anymore, maybe—”
Brand leaned down and kissed her. He’d meant it to be a firm smooch of reassurance, but instead he lingered, loving the taste of her mouth, loving everything about her. Against her lips, he promised, “Whatever you do, whether you’re the boss or not, you won’t be rid of me.”
She bit her lip. “Do you mean for the near future, or just for right now, or—”
Enoch opened the door behind them. He seemed inordinately pleased, probably because Sahara finally had her brother back. “Everyone is in the conference room.” He gave Sahara a huge, happy smile. “I already set out coffee and pastries. Anything else you need?”
“Even though it’s lunchtime, I’d love a breakfast sandwich. Do you think you could have one ready for me as soon as we wrap up this meeting?”
“Of course. I’ll call the deli that delivers. They probably have something.”
“Thank you.” She blew a lock of hair out of her face. “It was a really long day yesterday.”
Enoch tilted his head, eyed the bruise on her cheek and nodded. “I’m sure.” He glanced at Brand.
Brand shrugged. How could he reassure Enoch when he was currently so confused himself?
Gently, Sahara said, “I really am fine, both of you. I promise.”
Just as gently, Enoch said, “I’m glad.”
Would she be fine? Brand wondered. What if Sahara’s brother ripped the agency away from her? Where did that leave her? What would Leese, Justice and Miles do if that happened?
He could understand Sahara’s worry, damn it.
Scott stepped out of the room as they approached. His hair, the same color as Sahara’s, hung damn near to his shoulders. His blue eyes were also like hers, only full of cynicism. Again, he opened his arms, and again Sahara hurried to him.
Brand let her go, then stood back. He didn’t give them privacy by going into the conference room, but neither did he interrupt the moment.
Sahara squeezed him tight. “I can’t believe you’re finally back. I never gave up hope.”
“I know.” Scott levered her away, brotherly concern darkening his expression. “You’re okay?”
“Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
He shook his head and said to Brand, “She likes to think she’s invincible.”
“Not really.” Brand stared hard at her brother—and again had to fight the urge to pulverize him. “But she is the strongest person I know.”
Sahara spun around to face him. “Really?”
Leave it to Sahara to like that compliment most of all. “Absolutely.”
“She’s tough,” Scott said with pride. “I’ll give you that.” He looked around. “You changed everything, sis.”
“Yes.”
Brand heard the subdued hesitation in her voice, but Scott paid no attention. “It suits you.”
Sahara took in his black thermal shirt, worn jeans and lace-up boots, and said, “Not sure I can say the same. This whole dressing down thing is a very different look for you. You do realize that all your regular clothes are still at the house?”
Scott grinned. “Somehow, I don’t feel like a suit anymore. All this time I’ve gotten by with only a few pairs of jeans and a half-dozen shirts. It’s a simpler way of life.”
Sahara reached up to smooth his untrimmed hair. “I’ll take your word for it.”
His mouth quirked on one side and his gaze softened. “You’re still a clotheshorse, I see.”
Why did every damn thing he said sound like an insult?
“Of course.” Sahara looked him over again, then nodded. “You know, I think the rugged look suits you.”
Scott hauled her in for another hug. “Damn, but I missed you, sis.”
“I missed you, too. So much.” She touched his unshaven face. “Didn’t you get any rest?”
“Actually, no.”
“But why—”
“So impatient. I’ll explain everything as soon as we get inside.” He grinned down at her. “Come on. I have a lot to tell you.”
“More than what we learned last night?”
“A lot more. I hope you’ll be pleased.” Scott opened the door and waited for her to enter.
She looked back at Brand.
Scott said, “This is company business.”
Voice firm, Sahara replied, “True, but he’s with me.”
Scott studied Brand, as if deciding.
Brand stepped up behind Sahara, his gaze daring Scott to question it.
Instead, Scott shrugged and gestured for them both to precede him.
Once in the conference room, Scott closed the door and strode to the seat at the head of the table—a seat normally reserved for Sahara. A quick glance showed Brand that his friends weren’t happy with the seating arrangement either.
Without missing a beat, Brand took Sahara’s arm and drew her to the opposite end of the long table, then took the chair to her right.
In brooding silence, Justice got up, retrieved the coffee and pastry near Scott’s elbow, and moved to sit at Sahara’s left, offering her the food. “I got this for you.”
Strangely flustered, she murmured, “Thank you,” and bit into the pastry.
Miles followed suit, carrying his coffee down the table to sit next to Brand. Leese got up to take the chair beside Justice. That left three empty seats on each side of Scott.
Oddly enough, the rearranged seating appeared to satisfy her brother. He leaned back in his chair, elbows on the arms, his fingers laced together. Looking down the length of the table, he said to Sahara, “They’re loyal to you.”
She took a fortifying gulp of coffee. “Actually, they’re loyal to the agency. They’re excellent bodyguards, Scott, always in high demand, assets to Body Armor—”