TWENTY-SEVEN
Bran didn’t wake up when the wheels touched down, not when the jet taxied to the executive terminal at Gillespie Field and the engines shut down. Not until his brother gently shook his shoulder.
“We’ve landed.”
Bran snapped instantly awake, as he had learned to do. Unclipping his seat belt, he sat up on the sofa.
“There’s a car and driver waiting,” Reese said. “He’ll take you to your suite at the Grant. The hotel’s about a half mile from The Max in the Gaslamp District. Jessie says you need to talk to a detective there named Hunter Brady.”
“That’s right.”
“When you get to the hotel, there’ll be a rental car waiting for your use whenever you need it.”
Bran rubbed a hand over his several days’ growth of beard and smiled. “You can make my travel arrangements any day, bro.”
Reese just nodded. “You can thank my new assistant, McKenzie Haines. She’s a real find.”
Bran’s gaze went in search of Jessie, who waited near the exit. They left the plane and Reese walked them into the terminal.
“Your bags are already loaded in the limo. I’d suggest you get a few more hours’ sleep before whoever’s after you figures out you’re not dead.”
The flight had lasted only a couple of hours. He could definitely use a little more sleep. “Good idea.”
“Take care of him, Jessie,” Reese said to her.
Jessie went up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “I promise I’ll do my best.”
Bran shook Reese’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, bro. I appreciate everything you’ve done.”
“Just try to stay alive, okay?”
Bran flicked a glance at Jessie and repeated her words. “I’ll do my best.”
The U.S. Grant Hotel in downtown San Diego was an elegant, five-star, historic hotel with marble floors, molded ceilings, and crystal chandeliers. Potted palms and rosewood furniture decorated the lobby.
“It’s gorgeous,” Jessie said as they walked into their suite, which was done in the same old-world traditional motif.
“Leave it to my brother.”
“I really liked him. He clearly loves you very much.”
Bran glanced away, uncomfortable with the sentiment. “Both our parents are dead. My brothers and I...we take care of each other.”
“So I noticed.” She glanced around the luxurious suite. “They’ve already brought our bags up. Do you want to shower? You didn’t get to take one this morning. Or would you rather eat? You didn’t have that much on the plane. I could call room service.”
He walked over and eased her into his arms, gave her a gentle kiss. “I’m pretty sure there’s a big bathtub in there. I’d like a nice long soak, some food, and then some sleep.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“Long as you join me. Since you’re still recovering, I promise to behave myself.”
Jessie arched a brow. “All right. But I’m not making the same promise.”
Bran laughed. Grabbing her hand, he headed for the bathroom. It turned out to be a huge marble affair with a separate glass-enclosed shower and big jetted tub. He really needed that soak. And other things...
Six hours later he awoke feeling better than he had in days, Jessie curled against him in a deep, untroubled sleep. With her features relaxed and a faint smile on her lips, she looked beautiful.
She was smart and brave and loyal. She had put herself at risk for him more than once, and he knew she would do it again. The stitches on the side of her head reminded him of the gut-wrenching moments when the plane had gone down and his terrible fear when he had realized she was unconscious and bleeding. Yesterday she could have died.
