The Spellbinder (7 page)

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Authors: Iris Johansen

BOOK: The Spellbinder
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She inhaled sharply. “Oh, damn, he
was
a reporter.”

Brody stood up and crossed the room to stand beside Sacha. The picture was very clear, and Sacha’s features were quite beautifully defined as she stood in the stage doorway beside Brody. “You photograph very well,” he said casually. “It must be those great cheekbones. Have you ever done any modeling?”

“Yes, once.” Sacha’s gaze had not left the picture. One finger lifted absently to rub a spot behind her left ear. “They don’t have my name. Will this be carried overseas?”

“If the AP picks it up.”

“And they probably will,” Louis said quietly. “Devlin is big news.”

“I think they will too,” she whispered. “Oh,
damn
!”

“What’s wrong?” Brody asked, his gaze narrowed on her face. “You’re white as a sheet. Look, I’m sorry you’re upset about being seen with me. I know it can’t do your reputation any good, but it’s not that big a deal. No one will remember this photograph next week.”

The newspaper slowly crumpled as her hand clenched on it with white knuckled force. “I have to leave. Blast it, I didn’t want this to happen now. Not now.” Her eyes were glittering with tears. “It was all going so well.”

Brody took a half step closer. “Look, tell me what’s bothering you. It can’t be all that bad. Let me help you.”

“You can’t. It’s my problem.” She turned suddenly, threw herself into Brody’s arms, and hugged him with desperate strength. “I can’t stay. Oh, Brody, don’t forget me. Please don’t rally all your guards around you to keep me away from you when it’s safe for me to come back.”

“Safe?” A chill trickled down Brody’s spine. “Why shouldn’t you be safe now?”

Sacha stepped back, and her arms fell away from him. “Good-bye,” she whispered. Then she was gone, dashing through the door held open by Louis and disappearing down the hall.

Brody took a half step forward but was stopped by Benoit’s hand on his arm. “No,” the Frenchman said quietly. “Let her go. You’ll only be a danger to her.”

“Danger? What the hell is going on?” Brody’s gaze searched Benoit’s face. “And why should I make the situation any worse? It’s clear she’s scared to death.”

“A spotlight follows you around.” Benoit shrugged. “Sacha can’t afford to share that spotlight right now. Let her alone.”

“With you?” Brody asked fiercely. “You don’t like to share her with anyone, do you?”

A flicker of surprise crossed Benoit’s face. “You think we are lovers?” His eyes narrowed on Brody. “I wonder why it should matter to you if we are? I find your attitude curiously unbrotherly. You might almost be … jealous.”

Brody muttered a low curse and threw off Benoit’s grasp. “I gather you know why she’s so frightened?”

Benoit nodded. “But I’m not telling you. That’s Sacha’s right to tell or not.” He turned to the door. “But I can say that the consequences could be very serious if you persist in enlarging the spotlight on you to include Sacha.”

“How serious?”

Benoit looked back over his shoulder as he once more opened the door. “You could get her killed.”

Four

Brody’s first knock on the hotel-room door went unanswered. He knocked again. No response. “Sacha, dammit, let me in. I know you’re in there. I checked downstairs at the desk.”

The door was immediately thrown open. Sacha stood there, her cheeks flushed, her dark hair ruffled. “You shouldn’t be here, Brody. I told you—”

“Nobody has told me anything that makes any sense.” Brody pushed open the door and stepped into the room.

Louis Benoit, sitting on the bed beside an open suitcase, gave him an unsmiling nod. “You don’t listen very well. Stay away from her, Devlin.”

Brody slammed the door behind him. “The hell I will.” He turned to Sacha. “Now, tell me who you’re running away from. The police?”

Sacha shook her head. “We’ve done nothing against the law. It’s something else entirely.”

“What?”

“I can’t tell you. Not now. I won’t involve you in my problems.” Sacha crossed to the bureau and drew out the remainder of the clothing in the top drawer. She crossed the room and placed the pile of garments in the open suitcase. “Louis is right. It would be better if I stayed away from you. I would never forgive myself if you were hurt.”

“So you’re just going to disappear and leave me wondering what’s happened to you?” Brody strode across the room, slammed shut the suitcase, and fastened the metal latches. “Sorry, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let you get away with that. I don’t like to worry, and you’d have me a basket case before the week was out.”

Sacha became still. “Why, Brody?”

“I told you I was a very sensitive fellow.” Then he looked up to meet her gaze. “I don’t know. Anyone will tell you it isn’t at all like me to become involved in something that’s obviously going to be a big headache, if not actually lethal. I’m too selfish to ask for trouble.” He suddenly smiled with surprising gentleness. “I guess I want to help you. Benoit seems to think that being with me would give you away to whoever is after you, but it could also offer you protection. You said yourself I was surrounded by guards wherever I went, and I’ll order security doubled immediately. Maybe we can even catch whoever is after you. Isn’t that a better plan than running away and
hiding in the shadows? You can stay with me at the Ventura until the show closes two nights from now, and then I’ll take you to my home at Malibu.”

Sacha shook her head. “It’s asking too much of you.”

Louis said thoughtfully, “He’s right, Sacha. It might be a way to end it.”

“And risk his life doing so,” she said fiercely. “No, I wouldn’t ask anyone to do that for me. How could I ever repay it?”

“I’m not asking you to repay me,” Brody said impatiently. “I’m just asking you to be sensible.”

“But I would have to repay you.” Sacha’s voice was passionate with intensity. “You don’t understand. Not paying a debt is like stealing.” She smiled shakily. “I suppose you don’t know me well enough yet to realize I can’t bear to be in debt to anyone.”

She meant every word she was saying, Brody thought. In another moment she’d walk out that door and he’d be helpless to stop her. His hands clenched slowly into fists at his sides. Helpless, hell. There was no way he was going to let her leave him. He forced himself to relax. “You’ve forgotten one thing. It’s natural for the members of a family to help each other. No payment is expected between a man and his … sister.”

Her eyes widened. “You
believe
me? You believe we’re related?”

He nodded curtly. “I believe we’re related.” He grabbed the suitcase off the bed. “Now can we get the hell out of this dump?”

She hesitated. “I suppose it is all right.” She
suddenly smiled brilliantly. “There are no debts between brothers and sisters. Only love, right?”

He gazed at her a long moment feeling his throat tighten. “No debts,” he echoed thickly. He turned to Louis Benoit. “You’re welcome to come along if this mysterious danger is leveled at you too.”

Benoit shook his head. “I’m in no danger. It’s Sacha that Gino’s after.”

“Gino?” Then, as Brody saw Sacha’s expression become troubled, he held up his hand in resignation. “I know. You can’t tell me. I believe I’m getting very tired of all this melodrama. I go through enough of these hijinks on stage to put up with it in my private life.”

“I’m sorry,” Sacha said. “But I have no right to burden you with—”

“That’s enough. I’ve heard it all before,” Brody growled. “You’re not coming, Benoit?”

Louis stood up. “No, I think I’ll stay here. I’ll have the desk move me to another room and see if any visitors show up at the hotel looking for Sacha.” He smiled at Sacha, his brown eyes warm. “Who knows? Maybe we’re wrong. Maybe Gino won’t come at all.”

“Maybe.” Sacha moistened her lips and absently rubbed her left ear. “But I doubt it. We both know how fond Gino is of making examples.” Her hand fell to her side, and she turned to Brody. “But you must tell these guards they are to protect you first. You understand? Nothing must happen to you because you’re helping me.”

“Nothing is going to happen to either of us.” He
took her elbow. “Can we leave now? This place is very depressing to my delicate sensibilities. If we must be in danger, let it be in a five-star hotel.”

She chuckled. “By all means. I can see how you’d be upset. Louis and I are used to roughing it.”

His gaze left her face to wander to the double bed. “You and Louis are obviously accustomed to doing a great many things together.”

“We’ve been friends a long time.” Sacha’s answer was abstracted as she turned to Louis. “Don’t take any foolish chances and don’t let Gino see you.”

Louis’s lips twisted. “He probably wouldn’t even remember me. I wasn’t important to him.” He added bitterly, “There were so many of us.”

“Well, don’t risk it.” She turned to Brody and smiled. “See how I trust you? I’m placing myself entirely in your hands.”

He nodded, his expression shuttered. “That’s exactly what I had in mind, though not in precisely this fashion.” He propelled her toward the door. “We’ll just have to see how it works out.”

“You can have the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch in the sitting room.” Brody motioned to the door of the bedroom. “Clear out any drawers you need in the bureau for your things.”

She made a face, “One drawer should do it. I don’t have much.”

“Why not? I don’t believe I’ve ever met a lady who could pack all her clothes in one suitcase.”

Her gaze slid away from him. “I had a larger wardrobe in Paris. Not anything to rival Imelda Marcos, but adequate. I had to leave there in such a hurry that I ended up with just the clothes on my back. What I have in that suitcase are the things I’ve managed to buy since I’ve been here.”

“Like Donald Duck?”

She grinned. “That T-shirt was an extravagance I couldn’t resist. Wearing it makes me happy, and that’s important too.” Her smile faded. “I don’t want your bed, Brody. I’ll take the couch.”

He shook his head. “I’d feel better if I slept in the sitting room. You’ve infected me with a strange malady that feels dangerously like gallantry. I’ve been experiencing the most unusual symptoms of wanting to guard and protect.” He shuddered theatrically. “I can’t bear to anticipate what other virtues will emerge from this situation in which you’ve involved me.”

“Bah! You’re too set in your ways to be in any danger of total reformation.” Sacha’s blue eyes were dancing. “But a little will do you no harm.” She turned to the bedroom. “All right, I’ll let you guard me, but there’s no sense you going to extremes while you do it. That couch looks far too elegant to be comfortable. We’ll both take the bed.”

The smile faded from Brody’s face. “We will?”

“Why not? It’s much wider than the one Louis and I shared.” She glanced back at him as she opened the door. “And I don’t snore, I promise you. It would be stupid not to share.”

Something flickered in Brody’s face. “I certainly
wouldn’t want to be thought stupid as well as gallant.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.”

“Not quite.”

She looked at him inquiringly.

“I sleep in the raw.”

“Oh, that’s no problem, so does Louis.” She went into the bedroom, leaving the door open. “May I have the shower first?” she called back to him.

“Why not?” There was a thread of sarcasm in his silky tone. “Unless you’d prefer we shower together? Perhaps that’s another activity you shared with Benoit, and I certainly wouldn’t want you to get lonesome.”

“Of course, we did not shower together,” Sacha said, surprised. “There are some things a person prefers to do in private.”

“Very few things, evidently,” he muttered as he appeared in the doorway and leaned on the jamb, watching her.

Sacha opened her suitcase and took out her orange rugby jersey. “Well, one does like company for most activities. At least I always have. I suppose I’m naturally gregarious.” She turned and moved toward the bathroom, feeling his gaze on her back as she opened the door. “I’ll be right out.”

Brody was behaving most peculiarly, she thought as she quickly stripped off her clothes and dropped them on the gleaming white tiles of the floor. Well, who could blame him? He had suddenly
acquired a live-in sister, a possible threat of violence to himself, as well as total disruption of his privacy. It was no wonder the tension surrounding him was nearly tangible. Poor Brody.

And wonderful Brody. How lucky she was to belong to him. Behind that hard facade she had discovered gentleness, humor, and a surprising sweetness. She never would have dreamed that he would want to shoulder her problems like this. She shouldn’t have let him. It was wrong of her, but dear heaven, she didn’t want to leave him now that she had just found him.

She rummaged in the elegant white basket on the vanity and found complimentary bottles of shampoo and body lotion. She opened the small bottle of shampoo and sniffed ecstatically as she stepped into the shower stall. What a heavenly floral scent, Sacha thought. She would feel marvelously luxurious using it after the generic brand to which she was accustomed. Brody was right. If you had to be in danger, you might as well be comfortable.

After a long shower and shampoo she anointed her body with lotion and talc, feeling blissfully sybaritic. Then she slipped on her orange jersey and wrapped her wet hair in a towel.

“I’m sorry I was so long,” she called as she gathered her discarded clothes together and opened the door. “I could become addicted to a bathroom like this. It’s absolutely wonderful.”

Brody was already in bed, she noticed, as she walked into the bedroom. He was propped up
against the headboard, the satin sheet draped carelessly across his lower body. The triangular thatch of hair pelting his naked chest was the same rich chestnut shade as the hair on his head but was not as smooth and gleaming. It looked thick, wiry and tough.
He
looked tough. The muscles of his shoulders shone sleek and powerful in the golden circle of lamplight surrounding the bed.

Sacha stopped beside the bed. How odd. She was curiously breathless, almost shy, and there was a tingling in her palms as she gazed at the chestnut hair roughing Brody’s chest. “Don’t you want to shower?”

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