Savor the Danger

by Lori Foster

  “No, I won’t. But we both know that sometimes sex talk doesn’t mean anything.” She pushed back to look at him. “Men say things in the moment just because they want to sleep with a woman.”

  Waiting for a response to that death-trap statement, she watched him.

  What the hell had he said to her last night?

  He chewed the side of his mouth but gave up with a shrug. “Sometimes, yeah, maybe.”

  She looked down at her hands. “When they think sex is of utmost importance.”

  “That covers every minute that I’m around you, because when I see you, I want to be inside you.”

  “Jackson…”

  “I’m obsessed,” he admitted and meant it. If he just wanted sex, he could have it. He hadn’t lacked for female attention since his late teens. Hell, if he wanted an orgy he could have it.

  But he wanted Alani.

  “Don’t you see?” Not giving him a chance to muck it up with more drama, she went on. “Maybe if you knew the things you’d said, if you…remembered everything we’d done, you wouldn’t even care about…”

  “Having you again?” He tunneled his fingers into her baby fine hair, curving his hands around her head, lifting her face so he could see into her eyes. “Not a chance in hell, honey. Having you a dozen times wouldn’t put a dent in my appetite. Not for you.”

  The corners of her mouth quivered into an uncertain show of amusement. “Well, you sound confident enough about that, but I’m not.” She licked the smile away from her lips. “So… I think we should start over.”

  The groan was there, fighting to come out, but Jackson swallowed it back and tried not to look predatory. “Start over…where?” If she meant all the way back to square one, he’d get her alone ASAP and show her that once wasn’t enough, not for either of them, and to hell with what her brother and Dare thought about it.

  She toyed with the front of his shirt, smoothing it and stroking him again in the bargain. His muscles twitched.

  So did his cock.

  His heart followed suit when she looked up at him with her big golden eyes. “I’m sorry, Jackson, but I can’t jump back into bed with you.”

  That did it. He groaned.

  “I can’t.” In a rush, she explained, “Not when you don’t remember how we got there.”

  But he wanted to know. He wanted the memory of how she looked, the sounds she made at every small surrender, he wanted to watch her get hotter and hotter until she lost it, until she screamed out a climax. So… “We have to get there again? That’s what you’re saying?”

  “Yes.”

  Huh. Well, that might be fun. He loved a challenge, and knowing he’d already won her over would make it easier. As long as she gave him an opportunity, as long as Tobin remained out of the picture, he didn’t mind charming her anew.

  Needing clarification, he held her face tipped up to his. “I need to make up one day, not the past months, right?”

  Nodding, she looked at his throat, his chin, and her other hand lifted to touch him, too. “I woke up this morning already wanting you, and I haven’t stopped wanting you since.”

  A full-blown boner made idle conversation tough. Trying to relieve the pressure in his jeans, he shifted, but nothing short of touching her would help. He leaned into her, letting her feel his erection and affording himself a modicum of relief against her soft body.

  He growled low and kissed her throat. “I can work with that.”

  “It’s not too much to ask?”

  “Nah.” To stay on course, he’d have to take the edge off, and soon. Tricky, given that he had no intentions of leaving her side. But he’d figure it out. “Be warned, woman, I’m going to enjoy getting you there again.”

  From the other room, Trace said, “Jackson, I will kill you.”

  Alani flushed. “Ohmigod.” And in a panicked whisper, “Has he been listening to us?”

  By the minute, Jackson felt more like himself, so he couldn’t help but grin, especially with Alani turning so pink. “He can’t hear anything.” He smoothed her hair, touched her warm cheek. “He’s just guessing at what’s going on.”

  She groaned. “That’s worse.”

  Maybe. Since Trace knew Jackson, he probably had a good idea of things. A little louder, so Trace was sure to hear, he said, “It’s none of his damned business.”

  She surprised Jackson by smothering a laugh. “Surely you don’t think that will stop him?”

  “Probably not.” He knew what he was in for. But what she apparently didn’t know was that, because Trace was overprotective, he would never be satisfied seeing his sister with a man who wasn’t his equal.

  Jackson fit the bill.

  And despite all the bluster, Trace wasn’t blind; he knew Alani was a grown woman, able to make her own decisions.

  Right now, she was safer with Jackson than without him.

  “Now that we’ve got that settled, what else?”

  She bit her lip, and shook her head.

  “You said there were other things bothering you.”

  “I know.” She slipped her arms around him in a brief hug that he felt clean to his soul. “But we’ve been in here too long already. We’ll talk about the rest later, when we don’t have an interested audience waiting on us.”

  As if on cue, Trace said, “I’m counting to ten.”

  Enjoying the contact of their mingling heartbeats, how right and natural it seemed, Jackson said, “Ignore him.”

  “You’re not worried about his reaction to all this?”

  He snorted. “Nah. Why would I be?”

  After giving him a squeeze, she leaned away with a smile. “God, Jackson. What am I going to do with you?”

  “That’s the fun part, honey. As long as you’re not pushing me away, you can do anything you want.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  WALKING BACK IN to face her brother and Dare was nearly painful. They weren’t exactly condemning her, but Dare watched her with that quiet scrutiny that was so much a part of him, now sharpened with curiosity, too.

  Had Dare ever seen her as a sexual being? Probably not. She hadn’t even seen herself that way, especially not since the kidnapping to Tijuana. That, more than any other reason, had accounted for her problems with Marc. He wanted what she couldn’t give…or rather, what she couldn’t give until Jackson, until last night, until she’d discovered her own carnal nature.

  Her brother…well, in any other circumstance, she would find Trace’s behavior amusing. It wasn’t often that she got to see him disconcerted. Even before their parents had died, he’d been an Alpha male in every way, taking charge of everything and everyone, always cool, always a rock.

  But now, with the realization that her nightmare could be starting all over again, humor remained well out of Alani’s reach.

  As Jackson sat down, he brought her with him, ensuring she stayed close to his side. His hold was comforting but also intrinsically possessive.

  Did it mean anything?

  Giving him a subtle nudge with her elbow, she complained in an aside, “I’d prefer a little more discretion, please.”

  He kissed her ear. “Sorry.” He loosened his hold, but didn’t let her go completely.

  And she was glad.

  Dare and Trace watched their every move. Never had she envisioned her private life being made so public. Jackson didn’t seem to mind, but she couldn’t bear it.

  “This is ridiculous.” She wanted them both to leave so she could put Jackson back to bed—to sleep. He needed to recoup after his ordeal, and she wanted to be the one to take care of him. Usually he was so capable, so strong. This might be her only chance, her only excuse for keeping him close.

  With all three men underfoot, she couldn’t get her emotions in check. The dual assault of wanting Jackson again so badly, juxtaposed against the thrumming fear of danger, left her more flustered than usual.

  She tried a direct look that came off weak at best. “If you two have finished your coffee…?”


  Dare half smiled at her obvious hint and lifted his cup for another sip.

  Trace hadn’t bothered with coffee. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you kicking out all of us, or just Dare and me?”

  Short of admitting that she wanted to take advantage of Jackson’s predicament, what could she do other than protest? “You’re overstepping, Trace.”

  “Not the first time.”

  She stared at him, and he relented enough to say, “Until we sort this out, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone.”

  Jackson ran his fingertips down her spine. “Put your brother’s mind at ease, honey. Tell him I can stick around for the night.”

  For the night? Oh, for pity’s sake. Sure, she realized that she might have stumbled into things, but they were stretching it. Rather than admit that she wanted Jackson to stay, she said, “I promise I will be extra careful.”

  “Not good enough.” Dare set aside his coffee. “You don’t have the right skills to recognize a possible problem.”

  Her smile hurt. “Believe me, being kidnapped more than drove home that point for me.” At her self-deprecating tone, each of them froze with uncertainty. It was almost amusing, given how big and skilled and dangerous they could be.

  Knowing the way they thought, she continued, “It makes no sense that anyone would want to hurt me. Jackson was the one drugged.” She held up a hand. “But yes, I realize that if that woman had anything to do with him being drugged, then she saw my face and she heard Jackson call me by name.”

  “It’s a long shot,” Jackson told her. “But why take any chances?”

  Trace moved to stand over her. “It’s also possible someone knew you would be at his place, and that’s why Jackson got drugged in the first place.”

  Dear God. She hadn’t even considered that. Had he been drugged so that someone could get to her? Had she inadvertently put Jackson in danger? Thinking aloud, she said, “I called him from my cell—”

  Trace asked, “Not your office phone?”

  “No.”

  Dare stood. “Where is it?”

  “My purse.” She nodded toward the kitchen. “In there.”

  Dare left the room to get it.

  Jackson had been too quiet. She glanced at him, and got caught in his intent stare.

  Overly gentle, he reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I don’t want you to worry, Alani. No one is going to hurt you.”

  Because people had already hurt her, an invisible fist squeezed her lungs. It took so little to alarm her.

  Nothing really new in that. Since escaping Tijuana, she hadn’t really stopped being afraid. Sometimes she hid it well, and sometimes…sometimes it woke her in the middle of the night, a scream burning her throat, her face wet with tears.

  Swallowing down the shame of cowardice, she nodded. “I know.” And then, hopefully with more strength, “So what now?”

  Trace and Jackson shared a look. Jackson took her hand. “For about a dozen or more reasons, I’m hoping you’ll let me hang around. If Trace wasn’t leg-shackled—”

  “Leg-shackled?” Sidetracked, Alani gave a laugh that sounded far too forced. “Priss would get you for that.”

  Jackson showed his teeth in a wicked grin. “Yeah, she’d probably try.” He quickly held up a hand toward her brother. “Don’t hit me, Trace. I’m not a hundred percent, so it wouldn’t be fair. Besides, you know Priss is always on the fence about whether or not she likes me.”

  Trace sawed his teeth together. “Shut up about it.”

  Under most situations, her brother was the personification of icy calm.

  When it came to his wife, Priscilla…not so much.

  But then, given that Jackson, in the course of a rescue from intruders, had taken Priss naked from the shower, Alani understood why it nettled Trace.

  After a tense silence, her brother reined in his anger to address her. “Do you have any appointments you need to cancel?”

  Avoiding a direct answer, she said, “I usually work every day.” She couldn’t help but resist the idea of having her life turned upside down again.

  Jackson turned her toward him. “You can still keep your appointments, but how about I tag along? Just as an extra precaution.”

  “But…” Okay, she got the need for vigilance. But would it never end?

  Dare strode back in, still holding Alani’s phone. “Do you need to jot down any of your saved numbers before I turn it off?”

  “Why would you—”

  “Cells can be traced. For now, Jackson can set you up with a prepay. Use it if you have to make a call. Otherwise, just use your landline.”

  “For now,” Trace reiterated. “Just till we rule out a few things.”

  Alani wilted. Surely they were overreacting. But the last thing she wanted was for any of them to know how cowardly she felt about it all. “I know the numbers I call often, and customer numbers are in my files.”

  Trace walked over to stand in front of her, then held out a hand. “My turn.”

  Ripe with mistrust, Jackson caught her arm to detain her. “Your turn for what?”

  Good Lord, Jackson sounded confrontational. He might not worry about Trace’s temper, and she trusted that he could fend for himself, but a physical confrontation between the two of them would be too ugly to contemplate.

  She slipped away from Jackson and stood by her brother. “Be right back,” she started to say, but Trace was already tugging her away.

  He urged her all the way across the floor and out the back door to the patio. Through the kitchen window she could see Jackson craning his neck to look after them, his expression dark, dangerous.

  Did he think Trace would steal her away? From her own home? He was every bit as protective as her brother, and, unsure how she felt about that, she sighed.

  “I think I’m going to puke,” Trace said.

  Alani slugged Trace in the shoulder—and probably hurt her hand a lot more than she hurt him. “You like Jackson, so stop it.”

  “I like his work. I don’t like this situation, and I sure as hell don’t like seeing you so lovesick.”

  Her knees locked. “Lovesick?”

  Trace stared at her, then turned away to grouse before facing her again. “You are in love with him, aren’t you?”

  Well, shoot. She dampened dry lips. “I never said—”

  “You don’t have to. I know you, Alani. I can see it.” His expression softened. “Dare probably sees it, too.”

  That thought horrified her. “Do you think—”

  “That Jackson knows?” He shook his head. “Not unless you told him. Women always screw up a guy’s intuition. You’ve got him spinning on his ass right now. If he hadn’t been drugged, I might actually find it funny.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jackson seemed as in control as ever.

  “Trust me, figuring out women is more of a challenge than facing off with a lunatic murderer.”

  Lovely. With false sweetness, Alani asked, “I suppose sisters are excluded from that analogy?”

  “It’s not at all the same.” He cupped a hand over her shoulder and only hesitated a second before getting serious. “It’s not going to be easy, you know.”

  She gave another long sigh. “I know.”

  “Jackson is…”

  “Too much like you?” At his surprise, Alani shook her head. “And Dare, too. But I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

  He gave a fleeting smile before tousling her hair. “Brat.” He quickly sobered. “Our line of work complicates relationships in a big way.”

  “There is that.”

  “He could be gone long stretches of time when he’s on a case.”

  So Jackson was right—Trace was more accepting of their involvement than she’d realized. “I know.”

  “And you know you’ll worry.”

  She nodded. “But you’re my brother, Trace, so I’m already used to that.” There were times when Trac
e would be gone for weeks—but during those times, he left Dare available to her for emergencies. And always, Alani knew he’d give up a mission if she needed him.

  “It’ll be different, honey. Believe me.”

  “Probably.” She’d often wondered how Priss and Molly handled it. It was tough enough fretting over a brother, but the added intimacy of a romantic relationship would sharpen everything. That is… “I don’t even know yet if it’ll be an issue.” Because she didn’t know how Jackson really felt about her. “Everything is pretty up in the air right now.”

  The confessions he’d made last night no longer counted.

  “You’ll give him a chance to clear up the problems?”

  “If you mean will I let him stick around, yes.” She’d wanted to do that anyway, and this was as good an excuse as any.

  Trace took in her expression with dark concern. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

  “Not really, no.” She flashed him a smile. “Do you think Priss knew?”

  At the mention of his wife, Trace scowled and rubbed his ear. “Probably.” He dropped his hand and laughed. “At least, more than I did, because she always seemed to be a step ahead of me.”

  Alani had probably gotten the censored version of their story, but she knew they’d both gone undercover at the same time, after the same person, and each had a specific agenda that didn’t always mesh with the other’s. Along the way, Priss had turned her control-freak brother upside down.

  Spinning on his ass?

  Yes, that aptly described it. “And what about Molly?”

  His humor faded. “No. After all she’d been through, Molly was badly shaken. She was always practical, but at a loss how to get on with her life.”

  Alani remembered it well; she and Molly were both taken by the same people. They’d shared the same small, cramped confinement with other women. Stuffy air, chains, filth, fear and desolation…

  Whereas she’d been too terrified to breathe, Molly had been brazen, arguing with their captors, defying them at every turn. To this day, it made Alani shudder to think of it. “She was so brave.”

  Probably knowing she drew unfavorable comparisons, Trace pulled her into a tight hug. “Molly handled it differently from you, that’s all. And Dare always knows what he’s doing, so he helped her work it out.”