Fast Burn (Body Armor #4)(32)

Soon could be later in the afternoon, later in the week or at the end of the month. She just didn’t know.

Should she have accepted his offer to stay with him?

No. That would smack of being needy, which would undermine her authority in a big way.

She could have invited him to stay with her instead, but again, needy. The thought of spending the night alone in her big house had given her chills. Unfortunately, the idea of being alone in the suite wasn’t much better. At least she knew the agency was protected; no one could get past the 24/7 security.

Except...people once had.

They’d shot her guard, grabbed Enoch and nearly killed him, then gotten to the suite where they’d attacked Leese and Catalina. At the time Catalina wasn’t yet Leese’s wife, but they were already well on their way to being more than a client and her bodyguard.

Thank God, Leese was a lethal, highly trained machine who’d made the attackers regret the decision to intrude.

It’d be best to put that horrid breach in security from her mind. Since then they’d tightened up all entry points. She’d be fine. She believed it, so she just had to find something else to occupy her mind. Given that she was anxious to dig into the files of her brother’s known associates, she had plenty of distractions at hand.

She was at her desk, coffee beside one elbow, the shiv she’d made at the other, painstakingly going through each file and cross-referencing them with any photos she could find, when Enoch opened her door.

“He’s ba-aack.”

Sahara straightened. For one startling second, she thought Enoch meant her kidnapper. Then she caught his smile and, clearing her throat, asked, “Who?”

Sliding into the room and closing the door behind him, Enoch said, “Brand Berry.”

“Oh?” Sooner than she’d expected. “I thought he’d left for the day.”

“Apparently not.” Enoch’s smile turned knowing. “Care to share?”

Actually... She hopped up from her chair and skirted her desk. “What do you think of him?”

Without hesitation, Enoch said, “Big, capable, confident.”

All true. Sahara added, “Plus smart, attentive, motivated.”

Enoch nodded. “The emotional in a nice physical package equals just what you need.”

That gave her pause. “You think I need someone?”

“Sahara,” he chastised. “You know you’ve been one of my favorite people for a very long time.”

“Ditto.” She and Enoch had met prior to her brother’s disappearance, and they’d immediately hit it off. She’d leaned on him after Scott came up missing, and when she inherited the agency shortly after that, she’d asked him to be her assistant.

Best decision she’d ever made, and that was saying something because she didn’t make bad decisions.

She’d grown Body Armor, shifted the focus, given it more clout, more sex appeal—and through every change big and small, Enoch was there helping her to make it a seamless transition.

“You’re also one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. More independent even than Scott.”

“Really?” Crazy how much that flattered her.

“Once Scott made the business successful, he went about enjoying that success.”

He said that like an accusation. “I enjoy the success.”

“No, you always push for more, and that’s fine. Your single-minded drive is a big part of who you are. But you shouldn’t forever go it alone.”

“I have you.”

“Always,” he vowed. “But you should have more than just a friend. I want to see you loosen up a little. Live a little.” He softened his voice. “Share yourself.”

Enoch made it all sound perfectly normal, not at all needy. “You know why I don’t date.”

“That was a long time ago.”

She nodded. Sometimes it felt like a lifetime had passed since the last guy tried to charm his way into the family finances. “Scott always weeded out the users, the men only after my wealth, but now...how can I tell what a man really wants?”

“Oh please.” Disgruntled, Enoch frowned at her. “I respected Scott a lot, you know that. But he was sometimes wrong—especially when he assumed anyone attracted to you was only after your money.”

It didn’t happen every time...just often enough that she stopped trusting herself. She’d been born into money, and was left a healthy inheritance that Scott had expanded exponentially. Money had never been one of her worries—except when it came to knowing which was the bigger draw, her or her wealth. “I am filthy rich, and that’s a powerful lure for a lot of people.”

“You think the money is so important that a man can’t really see you?” He scoffed. “Have you looked in a mirror lately? Trust me, any guy with blood pumping through his veins sees you. And even if he’s not interested in...romance, he’s bound to admire you, respect you, and—”

“Like me?” She often wondered.

It was one of the things she appreciated most about the fighters she’d hired, as well as their close friends. They were friendly to her, but so down-to-earth, capable and self-sufficient, thoughts of benefiting from her wealth never entered their minds. If anything, they seemed to forget she had money and influence.