Free Eternal Brand by Sami Lee Page A

day? If you and Jet had been alone in the house, would you have taken him to bed? Or would you have bent him over the kitchen counter and fucked him improperly , the way you won’t fuck me?”
    Brand’s voice grew quiet. “That’s enough, Em.”
    Emily ignored the warning in his tone, too far gone to pull her punches now. “Do you want him more than you want me? Or is it just men in general you feel more passionate about? Hell, a few days ago, I didn’t even know you were…” She trailed off as she realized she didn’t even know which assignation applied. She assumed Brand was bisexual, but for all she knew she was the first woman he’d ever been with. Was he gay? Had their whole relationship been an experiment on his part?
    A lie?
    Emily stared across the kitchen at the man she loved—or thought she loved. How could you love a person you didn’t even know? “I can’t do this anymore.”
    The color leeched out of Brand’s cheeks. “What do you mean?”
    â€œI can’t pretend it’s okay that I don’t know anything about you. We can’t work like this.”
    â€œSo tell me what you want to know.”
    The words were issued blandly, but behind his impassive expression Emily sensed the turmoil inside him. She saw it in the way his pulse pounded at the base of his throat. He was offering to answer her questions, but he was terrified of what she might ask. That fear would keep his emotional walls sturdy. Whatever he told her would be a half-truth, something he cleaned up before he gave it to her.
    Like his lovemaking. Always slow and sweet and wonderful, but always restrained. Not raw or jagged or real, like that kiss he’d shared with Jet. That was the real Brand, and he’d been hiding it from her.
    He’d been hiding from her, but not Jet. Jet knew the truth about Brand. And after the way he’d fleeced her, Jet owed her.
    If you ever need to talk. That’s what he’d said. At the time Emily hadn’t thought she’d want that.
    Now she was glad she’d kept the paper she’d screwed up and thrown at him.
    â€œI have to go.”
    â€œWhere?”
    Emily didn’t respond. She marched to the door and plucked her corduroy jacket off the hook beside it. She grabbed her keys and handbag, a battered old thing that looked more like a miniature backpack.
    She opened the door, but Brand called her name, halting her hasty exit.
    Pausing on the threshold, she glanced back at him. His shirt was open from when she’d yanked at the buttons. His chest gleamed in the afternoon light, and his steady gray eyes held hers. In spite of their argument, Emily’s knees went weak.
    At length, he said, “I’ll make something for dinner.”
    It was his way of asking her to come back, of saying he’d be here when she did. The last thing Emily could think about was sitting down to a normal meal with Brand, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him not to bother cooking. He’d hurt her, yet she was reluctant to hurt him in return.
    That pissed her off enough that she said nothing at all before stalking out and pulling the door shut behind her.

Chapter Eight
    Jet was huddled inside his thick black rain jacket, his camera beneath the portable tarp he used in wet weather, his attention keenly focused on the craggy outcrop of Leyton’s Headland as he saw it through the viewfinder, when his mobile phone rang.
    He didn’t usually have it on while he was working but in this instance there’d been no potential of scaring off wildlife with his “Born to Be Wild” ringtone, so he hadn’t bothered to switch the phone off. He let it ring a few times while he took the shot he’d lined up, then he pulled the device out of his inside jacket pocket.
    He didn’t recognize the number, but some instinct made him answer, anyway. “Durante, here.”
    â€œHi. It’s