Free The Spellbinder by Iris Johansen Page B

he was being to let her do this to him. Why didn’t he just
tell
her, and then reach out and bring her to him? She was warm and responsive, and he was an experienced lover. He could
make
her respond.
    But he didn’t want to make her respond. He wanted her to come to him and offer herself. He wanted to treat her with gentleness, show herbeauty, and know he hadn’t tarnished the wonderful shining within her. And if he did tell her, what if she left him and ran headlong into the dangerous situation Benoit said might kill her? How the hell had he gotten himself into this mess?
    He heard her resigned sigh as she turned over and made herself more comfortable. A short time later her breathing altered, steadied, and he knew she was asleep.
    He didn’t move for another five minutes, waiting for her slumber to deepen. Then he slipped from the bed, shrugged into his robe, and padded to the door leading to the sitting room. A minute later he was at the desk punching in Cass’s room number on the phone. Cass picked up the phone on the second ring. “Cass, I need you to contact Randal right away.”
    Cass chuckled. “It’s three-thirty in the morning. Lord, Brody, you must be becoming an insomniac too. Not that I’m complaining, you understand. The worst thing about not sleeping is the loneliness. Why do I have to contact Randal? He’ll give me the report as soon as he gets it.”
    “I want my security doubled and expanded to cover Sacha Lorion.”
    Cass was no longer laughing. “You’re expecting trouble?”
    “Possibly.”
    “From whom?”
    “I haven’t the slightest idea,” Brody said. “Just take care of beefing up the security. It seems that Sacha has a past that may become very activelypresent. I’m keeping her with me at all times both here at the suite and at the theater.”
    “Oh.” There was a pause. “How … interesting.”
    “Cass …” Brody stopped. How could he clarify the situation to Cass when he didn’t understand it himself? “Oh, never mind. Good night, Cass.”
    “I wish,” Cass said wistfully. “If you can’t go back to sleep, why don’t you come down the hall and we’ll play a hand or two of gin rummy?”
    Brody hung up the receiver and strode back to the bedroom. He moved silently to the bed and untied the belt of his robe. He had a press conference at ten and he might as well try to get a few hours sleep even if—
    The
scent
of her—floral, evocative, wafting to him in the darkness. His heart began to pound. Heat flooded his loins.
    “Damn!” He turned on his heel and strode out of the bedroom and across the sitting room.
    His hand was trembling as he reached for the phone. “Cass, I can’t leave Sacha alone here, but why don’t you bring that gin rummy game down to my suite?”

Five
    “Where to tonight?” Brody asked as he took Sacha’s elbow and propelled her down the hall toward the stage door. “I hear San Diego has some fabulous Mexican restaurants.”
    “We could go to an all-night grocery store and shop for food. Then I could make a meal for us at the suite,” Sacha suggested. “I didn’t really get an opportunity to show you what a wonderful cook I am. Quiche is no challenge.”
    “I don’t think that would be a very good idea.” Brody didn’t look at her as he opened the door and allowed her to precede him. “I wouldn’t want to impose. It’s late, and you must be tired.”
    “Why? All I’ve done today is trail around after you to press interviews and previews and meetings. It’s you who should be tired.” She frowned disapprovingly. “You should not have stayed upall night playing cards with Cass. Do you do that often?”
    “No, not often.”
    “Then, it
is
me,” she said despondently. “You could not sleep with me. You should have told me. You said you weren’t accustomed to sleeping with anyone but I thought— Tonight I will sleep on the couch.”
    “Neither one of us will take the couch. I called housekeeping and told them to send