“She is.”
Curiosity slipped through her. “So...how old is she?”
Bran’s gaze swung toward her. “Late twenties. If you’re wondering, Tab’s a great girl, but she isn’t my type. Besides, she’s got a boyfriend.”
Jessie smiled, wishing she didn’t feel a sweep of relief. It was none of her business who Bran dated. One thing for sure—a man who looked as good as Bran didn’t lack for female companionship.
But the subject of Bran’s women continued to intrigue her even after they were back at the hotel. “I probably shouldn’t ask, but I’m curious. You said Tabby wasn’t your type. So what kind of woman is?”
His eyes locked with hers and she was almost sure the heat was back. “Lately I’ve discovered my tastes are flexible.”
“Which means?”
“Which means, under different circumstances, I might be interested in a pretty little strawberry blonde with the sweetest body I’ve ever seen.”
Surprise widened her eyes and desire made her breasts ache. She had never felt this overwhelming lust for a man. It was embarrassing.
“Unfortunately, the circumstances aren’t different,” Bran said flatly. “And the lady is completely out-of-bounds.”
Jessie fell silent. Out-of-bounds because she was Danny’s sister? Or because of what Ray Cummings had done to her? The thought depressed her. She wished she had the courage to ask, but she had pushed the subject too far already.
The afternoon slid past. Bran spoke to his tech friend, Tabitha Love, who reported the license plate on the Ford pickup had been “borrowed” from another vehicle. By now, Bran said, it was probably back where it belonged.
Tabby also promised to see what she could dig up on the offshore accounts, though she cautioned it might take some time.
As evening approached, they prepared for their visit to Charles Frazier, assuming he was home when they arrived unannounced.
“You ready?” Bran asked as she walked out of the bedroom in a pair of dark brown leggings, a V-necked cashmere sweater in a soft shade of blue with a cashmere scarf to match, and low-heeled brown suede ankle boots. She liked the look, but she hadn’t expected to stay out of town this long and her wardrobe was running thin.
“I hope Frazier gives us something useful,” she said on her way out the door.
Bran’s gaze hardened. She could tell he was armed by the slight ridge beneath the brown leather bomber jacket he was wearing with his jeans.
A muscle ticked in his cheek. “I got a hunch he will.”
