Yours to Savor (24 page)

Shit
. “How?”

“It doesn’t matter how. He told me he got it tonight. And he’s not happy with how lenient you’ve been with the kid.”

“I haven’t even seen him yet!”

“I know. Mark, however, is impatient. I’m afraid he’s about to take matters into his own hands.”

“Fuck.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say. You need to go calm Mark down, Brandon.”

Brandon exhaled. “When?” He knew the answer before he even asked the question.

“Tonight.” The word was like a punch to the gut.

“Alright. I’ll deal with it.”

“See that you do, Brandon. You know how important it is for us to avoid scrutiny. If Mark does something rash because of his temper, well, a lot of what you and I have worked to achieve for so many years will go to waste. You might be moving on soon, but that doesn’t mean
I
won’t need the proceeds from our network.”

“I know, Clarisse. I know.” It was crucial that their network remain completely inconspicuous. There could never be any discord amongst their distributors and associates. Discord led to stupidity, which led to violence, which led to kidnapping and murders and a plethora of other idiotic things that could jeopardize the business. Staying clean meant staying on the good side of the law. It was the only way politicians and federal officials could afford to turn a blind eye… with the proper bribes, of course. “I’ll take care of it,” Brandon promised.

“See that you do. I am sorry for interrupting things between you and Sandra, but this couldn’t wait.”

“I know. It’s just—never mind. I’ll deal with it.”

“You always do.”

When Brandon came back into the room, Sandra could tell something was wrong. He walked in stiffly. There was a distant look in his eyes.

When he moved for his shirt and not for her, Sandra’s worst fear was confirmed. “You have to go, don’t you?”

“Yes.” He picked up the shirt and threw it on. “I don’t think I can return tonight.” He started buttoning the shirt. He avoided meeting her eyes.

“I figured.” She felt dangerously exposed, and reached for the blanket to cover up her nearly naked body.

“It’s not… your fault.” Brandon’s words were clipped. “I can’t tell you how much it pains me to leave you.”

“I’m sure your business is very important.”

“It’s not that—”

“Then what? You don’t want me?”

“Sandra.” He turned and looked at her. His green eyes seared into her soul. “I want you unlike I’ve wanted any woman before.”

“Then why leave
again
? Why walk away? You say you want me, Brandon, but you don’t act on it!”

He flexed his fists in obvious frustration. “You’re not… like others. Have I told you how many proper dates I’ve gone on before meeting you?” He held up his index and middle finger. “
Two
. Two full dates. And with you, I’ve already doubled my count.” He sat on the edge of the bed. Sandra curled away from him so he couldn’t see her disappointment. “Not because I couldn’t, or because I didn’t have the opportunity. Simply because I never
wanted
to. Not with anybody else. I haven’t ever had a relationship that’s lasted more than a week.”

“I get it,” Sandra said. She could feel moisture building behind her eyes, and looked away so he wouldn’t see. “It’s all about sex for you. But not with me, and not tonight, is that right? You can’t say you don’t want me to my face. Instead, you’re just leaving me again. But there’s one thing I don’t understand, Brandon. Why string me along? Why have Clarisse take me shopping, why put me in this hotel room, if you never wanted me? Is it some twisted game you play, where you flaunt your money for the poor, pathetic young girl? Where you tease her with your touch, only to leave her hanging at the end?” She couldn’t stop a sob from coming out. “It’s cruel.”

“Sandra, no.” She felt his hand on her shoulder, and jerked away. Her skin still responded to him, but she couldn’t let him know how helpless he had made her feel.

Or how vulnerable she was right then.

“Just go,” she spat. “Take care of your business tonight. Whatever it is. I’m sure it makes you feel very important.”

Brandon exhaled audibly. “Sandra, you’re not listening. If you were any other woman, I wouldn’t even be having this conversation with you. I would have already left. But you’re different. You
matter
to me. You matter to me more than I ever expected. That’s why I had to leave yesterday. I didn’t want you to assume I was only after sex. It’s more than that, with you.”

“Then stay.”

“I can’t. I wish I could, but I can’t.” He leaned over, placed a kiss on her neck. She began to turn even further away, but her stiffness melted under his gentle touch. She squeezed her lips together, then turned her head to look at him.

His eyes widened in surprise. “Are you crying?”

“No.” She started to wipe away the tears in her eyes, but he gripped her face in his hands before she could reach.

“I never want to make you cry again.” He gently, sweetly trailed away the wetness on her cheeks with his thumbs. “I promise you, right here, right now, that I never will.”

“But you’re still leaving.”

“Yes. But I’ll be back in the morning.” He pulled her forward and kissed her on the forehead. “I won’t be able to stop thinking about you while I’m gone.”

“And I’ll be thinking about you,” she admitted. Then she giggled, suddenly feeling giddy again. “Look at me. Tearing up like some lonely teenager.” She tried to smile, and found that it came easier to her than she’d expected. “If you say you’re going to be back, I believe you.”

“That means a lot to me.” Brandon got up, spared one last look at her, and walked out the bedroom door.

Chapter Fifteen

Sandra slept poorly that night. The nightmare didn’t trouble her, but the feeling of coming so close to the edge with Brandon did. She’d been
so close
to what she wanted, needed,
desired
… only to have it scatter away like oil on a frying pan.

Well, Brandon had said he’d be back. And she believed him. Maybe she
shouldn’t,
not with his track record, but was it her fault she’d become undeniably vulnerable to the mysterious man?

Besides, he was all over her last night. And she’d reveled in being the object of his desire. If it weren’t for that blasted phone call, the night would have ended like it should have.

Sandra rolled over and tried to find some sleep. It came, though only in short bursts. When the sun’s rays started to peek through the blinds hours later, Sandra knew it was time to get up. Her decision was sealed when she glanced at the clock and saw that it showed 6:55 a.m.

After her sister’s death, Sandra had never been able to sleep more than seven hours at once. If she ever tried, her mind would immediately transport her back to the fire sixteen years ago. It didn’t matter how tired she was, or how little sleep she may have gotten the night before. If she tried to sleep for more than seven hours, the nightmare was guaranteed to come. It was the only surefire way she knew to induce the terrible dream.

She pushed herself out of bed and walked to the shower. As the cold water cleansed her skin, she found a budding excitement building within her about seeing Brandon again. This time—
really this time—
she’d get what she wanted.

She wrapped herself in a robe and went to the kitchen, made herself a coffee, and curled up on the generous recliner to read the paper that had been left outside her door.

Brandon found Sandra fast asleep on the leather recliner when he returned a few hours later. He smiled as he watched her. The poor girl must have exhausted herself staying up all night waiting for him. It would be a shame to wake her now.

He glanced at the dining table. Last night’s dinner was still set. Sandra had really gone all out to impress him. It was touching how hard she’d tried.

If she had known how he felt, she would have realized that she didn’t need to do a single thing to impress him.

The candles from last night had all burned out. It was too bad they didn’t get to use them. Brandon had some experience with games involving candles, chocolate, and leather belts.

But that didn’t seem right for a girl like Sandra. At least, not at the start. He wanted to make love to her slowly, to make her come alive with the unheralded pleasure he could offer.

So that she would know how much she meant to him.

Last night, if Clarisse hadn’t called, he would have ravaged Sandra’s body. Sex with her would have been a release for all the pent-up emotion and feelings he was harboring for her. Last night, in that dress of hers, she had been pure sex in blue.

Today, with the sun shimmering off her pale skin through the windows, Brandon felt different. Today, he vowed to take his time with her.

And she’d been right about what she told him before he left. He
had
played games with her—without even realizing it. Not only was it cruel, but it wasn’t fair. To him, or to her.

He eased himself quietly onto a chair by the table. He didn’t want to wake her while she slept. He’d dealt with everything that needed doing last night, and today, he had made sure that there would be no interruptions.

Suddenly an inspiration struck him. Searching through the kitchen counters, he found a pad of paper and a pen. Scribbling a note, he lowered it on Sandra’s lap, careful not to rouse her, and tiptoed out of the hotel room and into the hallway.