Yours to Savor (7 page)

She started reaching for her wallet, but the cabbie shook his head and pointed to the meter. “It’s already paid for.”

“Oh!” said Sandra, surprised. “Thanks.”

Sandra pushed the door open and stepped out.

She was greeted by the sight of Brandon leaning against one of the trees, hands in his pockets and one foot casually propped up against the trunk. He had changed into a casual polo and white khaki pants. The sleeves of the shirt were tight against his lean, muscular arms, and the fabric hugged his wide chest and narrow waist in a perfect fit. A strand of dark, wavy hair fell near the lens of his ever-present designer shades.

Sandra wasn’t there to swoon over his figure. He’d already negated whatever effect it had on her by acting the ass on the street. It was up to him now to change that perception.

He looked her up and down thoughtfully. A hint of a smile played on his lips. Sandra imagined that smile would be very disarming to most women. However,
she
was immune to its effect.
Right?
She noticed the gold wrist watch with a prominent Rolex emblem on its face.
Either Brandon has a penchant for perfect fakes, or he enjoys flaunting his wealth.

Brandon didn’t say a word as she walked toward him. He simply looked at her. In that moment, Sandra felt a little self-conscious about the jeans and plain sweater she’d thrown on. But she hadn’t come to impress him, no matter what he might think.

“Shall I do a little spin for you, too?” Sandra asked when she came near, annoyed that no matter how well she thought she’d prepared, the sight of him still brought butterflies to her stomach. But no matter how naturally her body reacted to him, she still had control
over her actions. She would
not
fall head-over-heels for him just because her body wanted to. “I don’t even know why I came.”

“You came because I asked you to.” Brandon reached up, took his sunglasses off. His glance slammed into her so hard that she nearly staggered back. Somehow, she had forgotten all about that feral, hunter’s look. It was back and strong as ever. He reminded her somewhat
of a patient cougar, sitting back and waiting for the silly squirrel
to come to him. It was the combination of his manner and his speech, coupled with his self-assured confidence. Regardless of the source, it was undeniably attractive… if only a little off-putting.

Sandra fixed him with a frown. “Do you always get what you want?”

He smiled back. “Only when I try.”

“You sent me a cab,” she said, trying to feign irritation to fight off the growing warmth inside. “That’s not exactly the best way to impress a girl.”

“Impress? Why would I want to do that?” Brandon gave her a boyish grin. “You’re here, aren’t you?” His eyes passed over her clothes again, and she could
feel
the heat in his gaze this time.

Sandra sniffed. She knew she couldn’t stay upset with him forever—especially since she’d agreed to spend the next hour with him. Besides, there was something about the way he smiled that put her at ease. She would
not
let him see that, though. “Clock’s ticking,” she pointed out. “Why did you bring me here?”

“You’ll see.” A knowing, mysterious look passed over his face.

“Your cab driver said the same thing.” Sandra motioned at the forest around them. “If this is supposed to be romantic like those vampire books, I swear, I’m going to club you over the head.”

To her surprise, Brandon laughed. It was a hearty sound, gregarious and full of mirth. Against everything, Sandra could feel the corner of her lips twitching up to match his smile. She couldn’t help responding to the warmth in his laughter.

“Is that what you take me for? A teenage boy?”

“I take you for a man too full of himself for his own good.”

He laughed again, and spread his hands. “You can be quite perceptive when you try.”

“It’s something I work hard at,” she noted. Already the bitterness from the morning’s interaction was seeping away. She
enjoyed
their little give-and-take, and was finding herself more amenable to Brandon than she’d expected.

“Come.” Brandon extended his hand. When she didn’t take it right away, he gave his most innocent look, softened his voice. “I don’t bite, I promise.”

She delayed just a little longer, only to prove to him she wouldn’t jump at his call—even though some part of her desperately wanted to—then placed her fingers on his upturned palm with a feather’s touch.

Apparently, he didn’t appreciate the subtlety. His fingers curled around hers in an unwavering grip. Strength, power, and prowess all seeped through them into her. Sandra felt as if she was caught in his hunter’s snare. A part of her
liked
the feeling. An
overwhelming
part of her. It was a grip of possession. “I’m not going to let you go,” it seemed to say.

Sandra was impressed. All the men she’d known in her life—starting with her father and ranging all the way to her last boyfriend—had been meek, hesitant, and uncertain. Brandon was anything but. He was a breath of fresh air after twenty-five years of suffocation.

He started off into the trees, on a little trail that cut through the woods. She had to walk fast to match his pace. She was glad she’d decided against wearing heels for this outing. And it
was
an outing,
not
a date. She was giving Brandon a chance, that’s all.

Why, then, did his touch leave her so lightheaded?

He walked on, not saying anything for a while. Sandra found the stretching silence uncomfortable and, without really thinking, blurted out, “You’re doing a pretty lousy job of making up the impression you left on me this morning.”

“Am I?” His beguiling smile was calm and gentle. “Is that why I can feel your pulse racing through your hand?”

A jolt of shame rifled through her. She snatched her hand away, hating her body once more for giving away her true feelings—but Brandon wouldn’t let go. “No,” he said instead. “I like the feel of your skin against mine.”

The words were said with such puritan innocence that Sandra could only think of them as dirty. An image flashed in her mind of the two of them in a dark bed, rolling together in the sheets, his hard body pressed tight against hers—

“Do I make you nervous?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts. Sandra blinked, startled.
Nervous? Isn’t it obvious?
All his questions, his statements, his manners were so very direct, she was learning. There was no beating about the bush with Brandon. And it
definitely
threw her off.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked instead, avoiding answering the question that would force her to reveal her total weakness for him.

Brandon grinned. “A question with a question, hmm? You catch on quick. I think you and I are going to get along just fine. Where, you said? Take a deep breath. What do you smell?”

Sandra complied, filling her lungs with cool, misty air. She could smell the pines, the earthy dirt, the freshness of nature all around them. There was nothing in particular that stood out… except
there
: hidden underneath it all was a hint of the tangy spray of salt water.

“Tell me,” he continued before she could answer, “do you like the sea?”

“I mean, it’s just sort of there,” Sandra shrugged. “I’ve never paid much attention to it before.”

Brandon laughed. “Well, we’ll change that tonight.” He let go of her hand, increased his strides to walk faster up the sloping trail to the peak. He stopped, and turned back to her before she caught up. “You said an hour, Sandra, so I planned on making the best use of that time. Look.”

Sandra came to stand beside him on the crest… and stopped, gaping. The little forest around them melted away at the top of the hill, exposing a breathtaking view of the ocean. The horizon stretched far into the distance, the ocean trailing it to eternity beneath the cloudless sky overhead. She could hear water lapping at the rocky shore far beneath them. The sun sat close to the water’s surface, casting shimmering rays onto the ripples of the calm sea. From her vantage point, Sandra could see the water sparkle, like a blue desert scattered with millions of tiny diamonds, each one glistening in the sun.

“Look down,” Brandon suggested.

Sandra did… and gasped. She’d overlooked the beachfront while she was so focused on the view. Down there, fifty feet below them, was a magnificent ocean home nestled amongst massive boulders. It was built in the middle of an enclave that cliffs carved out in the land. The little trail Brandon led her on, it seemed, was much more than that—it was a private path to a magnificent property. A long, wooden dock extended from the house to the water, and a beautiful pleasure yacht was moored at the end.

Somehow, as she was taking everything in, Brandon’s hand found the small of her back. She let herself be pulled into him. The motion was so smooth, so natural, she didn’t notice it at first—until she became aware of the growing heat radiating from his touch, and flowing into her entire body. He stepped close, and his clean, musky scent overpowered her senses. She gave a little shudder, but didn’t pull away. Her body responded so readily to him. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to fight it anymore.

“What is all that?” she asked, motioning down in front of them.

“Our destination.” Brandon smiled. “Come on.” Taking her hand again, he led Sandra down the trail toward the property.

The walk was shorter than she expected. When they reached the waterfront, Sandra stood in awe of the splendor of the house. Large, beautiful oak beams guarded the entrance, and enormous floor-to-ceiling windows decorated the rest of the façade. The lights were off inside, but sunlight pierced through the glass to light up the expansive interior.

“This is yours?” Sandra asked.

“A friend’s,” Brandon answered.

“He lets you use it?”

“
She
,” Brandon corrected. Almost immediately, Sandra felt an inexplicable sting of jealousy. It was small, yes… but it was noticeable.

“She must be very wealthy,” Sandra noted carefully.

Brandon stopped, and gave her a blank look. “The house is hers,” he explained, “but the yacht is mine. Come.”

“Is that where we’re going? Your boat?”

His eyes glimmered. “For me, she’s more than a boat, but you be the judge. Come on,” he urged. “Clock’s ticking.”

Sandra shot him a look.

“Your words, not mine,” he reminded her.

Sandra picked her way across the rocky beach as Brandon led her toward the dock. “You know, this isn’t what I expected from you,” she admitted.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, when I said I’d give you an hour, after you asked me out, I thought you’d take me to a restaurant or something.”

Brandon affected a hurt expression. “Surely you didn’t think
that
poorly of me.”

“No, no,” Sandra backtracked, “it’s just—”

She stopped abruptly when he started laughing. Laughing
at
her, again… but she realized the hurt look he gave her before had been laced with sarcasm. She’d taken the bait hook, line, and sinker.
It’ll take some time for me to get used to his humor
, she thought sourly.

“I have a little imagination in me yet, you’ll see,” Brandon chuckled. “This is your first date in two years. I couldn’t lose the chance to create something memorable for you.”

“Why?” If he could be direct, so could she.

But the question didn’t throw him off. “That’s for you to decide at the end of the night,” he answered.

“You can’t impress me just by having a boat, you know.”

Brandon laughed again. “It works with some girls, I’ll admit, but you seem to be more discerning than that. You’re not one to be won over by cheap parlor tricks, are you?”

“No,” Sandra said after a moment. “And I’ll take that as a compliment, I think.”

“It’s one of the few you’ll get from me,” he winked.

She frowned. He laughed once more.

Together, they came to the dock, and climbed up the slanting walkway.
All of this
is
rather impressive,
Sandra admitted to herself. Brandon and his friend, whoever
she
was, must both be incredibly rich.

What kind of a man did I get myself involved with? And why on earth is he interested in me?

“What do you do?” Sandra asked on impulse.

Brandon smiled. A secret glimmer danced across his eyes. “I’m a businessman.”

“What kind?”

“The successful kind.”

Sandra gave an exasperated grunt. Would the man never give a straight answer? Before she could call him out on his evasive response, they reached the yacht. Sandra could hear the hum of the motor running, the sound of water lapping gently around the hull. From a distance, the yacht was impressive, but from up close… it was spectacular. It was so
big
, and from the look of it, completely new. There was not a speck of dirt anywhere; all the metal pieces glistened like they’d just come off the factory floor. The name
VEGA
was printed in prominent white letters on the side of the boat, clashing against the midnight blue paint of the hull.