Resisting, she stuck the cord in her coat pocket, switched the metal blade into her right hand and took his hand with her left. “That’s so sweet of you, but I’ll hold on to it just in case.” Then she tried to take the lead.
Brand’s immobility pulled her to a halt.
She glanced back, questions in her pretty eyes. Aggrieved, he moved around her.
When they stepped through the doorway to the landing, they found the two men still slumped, their bruised and battered faces red with their own blood, their hands and feet locked together.
Sahara stopped to stare. “Oh my. You managed all that rather silently.”
Now was not the time for her to schmooze him. “Let’s go, Sahara.”
She ignored that order. “I was hoping once I got them unmasked, I’d recognize them, but now... I’m not sure their own mothers would know them.”
“Do worms have mothers?” He tried again to get her going.
She tried again to pull free. “I told you, I need to question them.” She nudged the closest man with the pointy toe of her shoe but he didn’t rouse. “Is there water anywhere that I could throw on them?”
Brand clasped a hand to the back of her neck and leaned close, his gaze boring into hers. “We are going,” he said succinctly. “Now.”
Eyes flared with disbelief, she asked, “Are you threatening to choke me?”
He tightened his hold the tiniest bit, but she still looked only curious. “What I’m doing is getting your attention.”
“Very rudely.” She tried to shrug him off but he didn’t let go. He knew he wasn’t hurting her, but getting her on board with the rescue was imperative.
Scowling now, sparks going off in her eyes, she said, “You forget that I’m the boss, Brand. I give the orders.”
He took grim pleasure in saying, “You forget that I don’t work for you.” When she started to speak, he cut her off. “We’re leaving here. You either walk or I carry you. Up to you.”
Her jaw loosened. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Count of three, honey.”
“I have a weapon!”
“That you wouldn’t use on me, but if you think I couldn’t take it from you, you’re wrong.” He started to scoop her over his shoulder and she backed up fast, almost tripping over the downed men.
“Be careful before you stab yourself!”
“If I do, it’ll be your fault.”
“Sahara,” he ground out.
“Okay, okay!”
Brand turned, her hand once again caught in his, and got her moving. The dim light at the small landing faded as they maneuvered back to the main entrance of the garage, forcing Brand to use the binoculars. “Careful,” he said, guiding her around some fallen equipment of some sort.
No answer.
They went up the next flight of stairs.
Still nothing.
Shrugging, he decided that Sahara’s sullen silence afforded him the opportunity to share details. “Leese is headed to the exchange site, but then so are the other goons who took you. If they see him, they’re going to want the ransom—a ransom he doesn’t actually have. Once I get you out of here I’ll contact him and the others, and they can move in to try to round up your kidnappers. Then you can grill them all you want.”
“I didn’t know that,” she said, and then with more accusation, “You should have told me—”
“I shouldn’t have to explain when your life is in danger.”
“I wasn’t worried about my life,” she said in a small voice. “But you have to know I’d never willingly risk Leese.”
Yeah, he did know it. Just to tweak her temper, he asked, “You’d risk me, though?”
“Don’t be silly. You’d already pulverized those men and we’d have heard others before they reached us.”
“They didn’t hear me.”
“Because you’re stealthy, just as I knew you’d be. Admit it, you’re made for this job. Why, I bet—”
“Keep your voice down.” Used to her numerous, tireless pitches, Brand cut her off. “Everything echoes in here and we don’t want to draw attention from anyone on the street. It’s not exactly the suburbs.”
In a whisper, she asked, “Did you see anyone out there?”
“No. Just the four who drove off.”
“I think that’s all of them.” When she almost tripped, he caught her up against him. For just a moment her body pressed to his, the soft swells of her breasts reminding him that she’d removed her bra.
To make a handle.
For a shiv.
Holding her turned his voice gruff. “Those shoes are a hazard.”
“Quit picking on my shoes.” Her hand slid up and over his shoulder, then to his nape, where her fingers played with the ends of his hair. “If you weren’t dragging me through the dark, I wouldn’t stumble.”
For the sake of his sanity, he said, “Let’s try this.” He shifted her around behind him. “Hold on to my jacket and follow exactly in my footsteps.”
“Yes, sir.”
He wouldn’t mind hearing that much deference in bed. “Don’t let go, Sahara. I mean it.”
“I’m holding on, now get going.”
The urge to remind her who was in charge nearly got the best of him, but he beat down his inner caveman and led the way. Just as they were reaching the large garage door that would lead them outside, he saw headlights approaching from the distance.
“Shit.”
She snuggled close to his back and breathed, “Do we hide or make a run for it?”