“I’ll never be a fancy dresser either.”
“Fancy dressing isn’t required.” She leaned in and kissed him, then whispered against his firm mouth, “Ross won’t hurt me.”
Closing his hands over her upper arms, he stepped her back so she couldn’t miss his heated glare. “You can’t know that.”
“If I was relying on Ross’s honor, I’d agree. But I know Scott, and I know you.” She searched his gaze. “Neither of you would let him near me.”
“Damn right—although I can’t speak for your brother since he’s the one wanting to let the bastard skate.”
His grumbling tone worried her. “Scott has deliberately tried to annoy you.” She lowered her voice to a serious whisper. “That’s how he chased off other boyfriends.”
Brand tipped up her chin. “I’ll deal with your brother, don’t worry about that. The rest of this, though—”
“It’s important to me, Brand.” She moved closer, staring up at him, willing him to see it from her perspective. “I want Chelsea to pay. She’s an awful person, a cruel, manipulative sadist. As if that wasn’t enough already, she tried to take my brother from me.” Sahara brushed her mouth over his. “And to see Douglas lose his authority... God, I’d love that so much.”
Stubbornly, Brand insisted, “There has to be another way.”
“If there was, don’t you think I’d have found it by now? Powerful people don’t go down easy. It takes a lot.” She wound her arms around his neck. “This might be the only chance we have.”
In ill humor, Brand grumbled, “Damn it, Sahara.”
“You know I’m right,” she insisted. “You know this is important.” Imploring him, she added, “Especially to me.”
He groaned.
Knowing he gave in, her heart lifted. Softly, she whispered, “Thank you for understanding.”
The office entry door opened and Ross Moran started in. When he saw Sahara and Brand, he drew up short.
“Sahara.” He actually started to smile.
She hastily stepped in front of Brand. “You have new bruises,” she pointed out. “Did Scott do that?”
Ross touched his cheek. “Some of it.” His gaze went over her head to Brand. “I already had most of them.”
“And yet,” Brand said, “here you are.”
He looked at Sahara. “I wasn’t aware my men were acting without me. You have to believe that.”
“I do,” she said. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t make much difference to me.”
“We should talk—”
“Seriously?” Brand laughed without humor. “Apparently you’re a slow learner...but I can help you with that.”
Warily, Ross eyed Brand. “Scott is expecting me.”
Finding a new direction for his anger, Brand set Sahara aside. “That’s Scott’s problem.”
Sahara grabbed Brand when he started forward. “Brand, no.”
“Afraid so.”
Panicked, she saw the resignation on Ross’s face, Brand’s determined stride and she knew she couldn’t stop this. “Damn you two, don’t you dare damage my building!”
Ross opened the door for Brand with a grand gesture. Without slowing his stride, Brand grabbed him and shoved him out first, then followed and quietly closed the door behind him.
Frozen in place, Sahara stared at the closed door. A second later, she heard a loud thump, one more followed by a groan, then the wall shook as if a body had hit it.
The sounds of combat unglued her feet. She turned and ran into the conference room, her gaze sweeping over everyone. “Ross is here and Brand just took him out to the hall!”
Scott looked up, startled.
Enoch grinned.
Leese took Sahara’s arm. “Have a seat, okay? Brand won’t be long.”
Damn it! “What if Ross is armed?”
Miles said, “It won’t help him any.”
“Might just make Brand madder,” Justice said with relish.
“Oh my God, you’re all insane.” She started to stand, but the guys surrounded her.
Justice even patted her shoulder. “Give them five minutes, okay? You can be patient that long.”
She looked across the table and locked eyes with her brother. He’d lifted his eyebrows high in disbelief. And why not? Not only were these men unlike any they’d encountered before, but they were employees who cosseted her like a helpless female.
Grim, she shoved to her feet and said to the walls of muscle surrounding her, “Move.”
Reluctantly, they each stepped aside.
Enoch rushed forward to fill the void. “Now, Sahara—”
“I won’t wait here like the proverbial little woman while Brand destroys a key witness that we need to get this all settled.”
“He won’t kill him,” Leese said. “That’s not what this is about.”
“He’s only going to point out the error of his ways,” Miles said.
Justice added, “He needs to make it clear that you’re off-limits, that’s all.”
Being off-limits would mean that she and Brand had a commitment, and so far, they didn’t. What they had was an agreement.
In any case, Brand didn’t need to clear up anything with Ross because she had zero interest in any other man, but most especially a man who had kidnapped her and threatened her. Damn it, he should have trusted her to have enough sense to—
The conference door opened and Brand strolled back in, interrupting her silent rant. His shoulders were bunched, the muscles in his arms bulging, but he looked calm, calmer than he had all day.
He was even smiling.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SAHARA STARED AT HIM, loving him so much that her heart wanted to burst and her stomach churned with an unfamiliar anxiety only partly due to the situation with Chelsea and Douglas.
To Enoch, Brand said, “You have a mess in the hall.”
“Oh dear Lord,” Enoch muttered and rushed out.
Sahara couldn’t think of a thing to say. She saw no marks on Brand, but then, after having witnessed his fighting skills, she hadn’t expected to.
Laughing, Leese said, “We’ll lend Enoch a hand,” and he started out, too, followed by Miles and Justice.
“Thanks.” Brand walked up to her, his dark eyes looking deep into hers.
Sahara managed to gather her wits. “What did you do?”
“We had a discussion.” He smoothed back her hair, brushed his thumb over her cheek, and said, “As long as he stays the hell away from you, I’ve decided he can live.”
That outrageous statement said a lot, some of it serious despite the absurdity of his wording. Relief washed over her. Realizing that Brand did understand gave her an enormous smile. “Thank you.”
Blustering, Scott stormed up to them. “You’re thanking him?”
Still calm personified, Brand glanced at Scott. “You’re next.”
Sahara’s heart had just started to settle into a normal rhythm, and now it leaped into overtime again. “No, Brand.”
Antagonistic, Scott said, “Fine by me.”
Facing her brother, Sahara growled, “I just got you back, you have a bullet wound on your arm and a knock on your head.”
Scott’s jaw flexed. “I can handle myself.”
“That’s what Ross said, and now he’s a mess out in the hallway!”
Trying to provoke Brand, he shrugged. “Ross probably held back for fear of losing his immunity deal. I won’t be hampered the same way.”
Brand grinned in anticipation.
She’d never realized how foolish her brother could be. She’d always idolized him, thought him the most brilliant man alive, but now she had to reevaluate.
If he thought he could go toe-to-toe with Brand, he was worse than foolish.
Hoping to placate him, she said, “Usually, I’m sure you’re more than capable, but not this time. This time,” she emphasized, “you’re up against a professional MMA fighter.”
His eyes narrowed—and he withdrew a gun. “Then maybe I should even the odds.”
“Scott!”
“I won’t let any man take advantage of you, hon.”
She gasped in outrage. “Who says he is?”
Growing more pugnacious, Scott rationalized his assumptions, saying, “He knows you’re wealthy and influential—”
Scoffing, Brand said, “I know, but it doesn’t matter to me.”
“It matters to every man.”
“You’re a fool. Sahara could be dead broke and it wouldn’t change how I feel.”