Fast Burn (Body Armor #4)(27)

An idea occurred to her.

Holding the blade tight in her right fist, she used her left to feel for the light switch just inside the dressing room.

It clicked on silently.

Since the room was behind her, the sudden bright light didn’t blind her.

Her intruder wasn’t so lucky. The glare hit his face and he flinched, lifting an arm.

He stood only a few feet from her!

She’d known his voice, and now she recognized his size, but it was the first time she’d seen him without the disguise. Big, with sandy-brown hair and those light blue eyes, some might call him handsome, but the aura of menace chilled her blood.

Sahara struck out and he ducked, reaching for her at the same time. The blade cut into his arm, slicing just below his elbow, making him retreat.

She quickly sidestepped and, taking an aggressive stance with the blade lifted at an angle over her shoulder, she threatened, “Reach for me again and you’ll lose the arm.”

“With that flimsy thing?”

“That’s not my blood ruining the area rug.”

Looking down he saw the trail of red and, amazingly enough, moved to stand on the hardwood instead. Closing a hand over the wound to try to stanch the drip, he assessed her. “You made that from the heater, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And you brought it to your bedroom?”

Good thing, she thought, but said only “I’ve grown fond of it.”

His mouth didn’t move, yet she could almost swear he was amused. The last thing she’d wanted to do was entertain him.

Those blue eyes she already knew so well stared into hers. “Next time I get you—and, Sahara, I will get you—I’ll remember just how ingenious you are.”

Back to the threat of tying her down naked? Not happening, buster. “Why?”

Surprise lifted his brows. “Why what?”

“Why will you get me again?” She backed up another step, resisting the urge to search the rest of the room for the others. She had a gut feeling he’d come alone. “If you want money, I’ll pay you. Just tell me what you know about my brother.”

This time he smiled openly—and it was scary-mean. “You want to know about Scott? Sure. He’s not the saint you paint him to be.”

“No, not a saint,” she agreed. “But he is an amazing brother.” She hitched her chin. “What did you do for him that he’d owe you money?”

“A job. And he double-crossed us.”

“Doesn’t sound like him.”

“Sounds exactly like him,” he insisted, then added, “the bastard.”

Sahara growled and hefted the blade high. “Insult him again and I’ll gut you from neck to groin.”

Awe held him captive. “You’d actually try, wouldn’t you?”

“There’d be no ‘try’ about it.”

His now-familiar gaze slowly touched all over her, from her tumbled hair down to her bare feet then back up to meet her eyes. “You’re magnificent,” he breathed. “I hope you know that.”

His twisted admiration frightened her even more. She was debating what to do, how to get out of this conundrum, when a knock sounded on her door. “Sahara?”

Brand. She’d forgotten all about him and now, during her moment of distraction, the big bruiser shot in and grabbed her around the waist, taking her down to the bed in one hard dive.

He immediately pinned her wrists to the bed, stared into her eyes a split second, then swooped down and ground his mouth against hers.

What was he doing?

Brand was right outside the door, and he wanted to kiss her?

She struggled to twist her face away, but the pressure was so hard she couldn’t maneuver. Instead, without a single thought for the consequences, Sahara sank her teeth into his lip.

He reared back—and she yelled, “Brand!”

Something hard hit the door, splintering wood.

The big man hastily rose with his fingertips touched to his bleeding lip. “You need some discipline, and I’ll be happy to give it to you.” He smiled. “See you soon, Sahara.”

It took her a second to realize she could again grab her blade, but he’d already gone back through her dressing room and presumably out the window—not that she’d check.

She had no intention of facing him alone again.

Another loud crack brought her back to her senses. Oh Lord, Brand was about to destroy her door!

“Brand, wait!” Shaking all over, she raced over, saying, “Let me unlock it.”

“Do it now.”

The second she unclicked the lock, Brand charged in so hard and fast that the door bounced off the wall. His gaze swept the room and, seeing nothing, he stalked into the closet, the bathroom and finally the dressing room.

Inching up behind him, Sahara said, “I guess he managed to come in through the window.”

“He?” Brand searched the large room as he went through it, but it was obviously empty. “Who are we talking about here, Sahara?” Fifteen feet square with one wall of windows, blinds up and mirrors on the other walls, there wasn’t any place for someone to hide.

“The bastard who kidnapped me.”

“You’re sure?”

A makeup vanity sat before the open window, now pushed askew, her plush white chair on its side, some of her makeup spilled to the floor.