Fast Burn (Body Armor #4)(95)

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—”

Brand covered her hand. “You don’t need to sell them, honey.”

She abruptly stopped rambling. “No, I don’t.” Chin lifting, she said, “With all the new high-level business we’ve brought in, the results speak for themselves.”

“They do,” Scott said softly. “But I never doubted it, sis. You would only hire the best. I know that.”

The vote of confidence cleared away her frown. “Thank you.”

He segued right into business. “Now, as you know, proving that Chelsea Tuttle plotted to have me killed would be impossible.”

Shooting halfway out of her seat, Sahara flattened her hands on the table. “You can’t give up! I won’t let her get away with this. One way or another, I’m going to see that woman—”

“Down, killer.” Scott laughed. “You’re always so ferocious.”

“It’s not funny,” she snapped, some of her natural vitality returning.

“No, I suppose it’s not, but relax, okay? It’s working out, I promise.”

“Oh.” She glanced at everyone with a tinge of embarrassment, then sank back into her chair with a renewed frown. “You better tell me that she’s going to prison for a very long time, because I won’t be satisfied with anything else.”

“All right.” Scott looked only at his sister. “Ross Moran once worked for me. You know that much. I’m not sure if he explained all of it, though.”

“Only that you still owed him money,” Sahara said.

“Very true. Attempted murder has a way of making you forget your debts, at least for a time.”

“And that the two of you had grown close?”

“I trusted Ross,” he confirmed.

Leese stared at Scott. “Enough to give him the passcode to your security system?”

Wincing, Scott explained, “He’s actually a security specialist, and yes, after I had a suspicion that I was being followed, he did know the code because he helped beef up the system.”

Justice snorted. “I made it better.” His jaw locked. “And unlike the goon you hired, I would never break in and attack Sahara.”

A flush rose up Scott’s neck and his shoulders tightened. “That was unforgivable. He claims to be taken with her—”

“And that justifies attempted rape?” Miles asked.

“If I thought he would have taken it that far,” Scott stated, “I’d kill him myself.”

In a lethally calm tone, Brand said, “I’ll handle that for you.”

Scott glanced at Brand, did a double take over the seriousness of his expression, and frowned. “I already explained things to him.” At that, Scott rubbed his knuckles. “When I found out he’d been in the house, and that he’d gotten out by the tree, I had it trimmed.”