Savor the Danger

by Lori Foster

  “You armed?”

  “Yeah.” He had a Glock in a back-belt holster, a knife in his boot, and the skill and imagination to make a weapon out of about a dozen things in her kitchen.

  “Enough?”

  “It’s covered, okay?”

  Dare stuck his head back in. “We’re good?”

  “Yeah.” Trace looked at Jackson again. He lowered his voice even more. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…sleep near her, okay? Don’t let her force you out to the couch. I can’t put a finger on it, but something about this doesn’t feel right to me.”

  “Right outside her door, if that’s what it has to be.” In their line of work, gut instincts were never ignored. But where he slept was up to Alani—and Trace knew it. “I’ll be able to hear her breathing. You have my word.”

  Trace studied him a second, then nodded. “All right then.”

  As Trace strode away, Dare approached.

  Jackson put his fists on his hips. “God, what now?”

  “It wouldn’t hurt you to let her pamper you a little.”

  He grunted. “Yeah, like you would?”

  “If it kept her busy enough that she wasn’t afraid, and close at hand, yeah. Damn right, I would.”

  Huh. He hadn’t considered that.

  “Besides,” Dare said. “You might find you like it. Sometimes, a woman’s touch is just what you need.”

  “Now that’s something I already knew.” Jackson grinned at Dare’s reaction. Yeah, he saw Alani as a little sister, too.

  For her part, Alani remained near the door, now more frazzled than ever.

  Impatient, smoldering, Jackson stood back as the guys took their time telling her goodbye. They each embraced her, and they each gave him last-minute instructions.

  All things he knew, all things he would see to.

  But he understood their need to voice their thoughts. They were, by nature, take-charge men, and even when giving the responsibility to someone they trusted, it wasn’t easy to let go. He got it.

  When they were both gone, Alani closed and locked the door.

  Jackson braced himself for the rush of feelings now that they were finally alone.

  When she continued to stand there at the door, her back to him, Jackson smiled in predatory determination.

  Oh, she claimed she couldn’t jump back into bed with him—but she wanted to. The sexual chemistry arced between them like a live wire.

  But he wanted her to know she could trust him. She said she wanted more time, so that’s what he’d give her—no matter how difficult it might be. For both of them.

  CHAPTER SIX

  SILKILY, JACKSON SAID, “Alani.”

  For only a moment she bowed her head and then, resolute, she turned to face him. Her hands were behind her on the doorknob, her gaze watchful, her pose purposely relaxed.

  So many reactions flitted over her face, Jackson had a hard time deciphering them. But he understood what he felt, first and foremost.

  The need to put her at ease, to take away the nervousness.

  His breathing deepened. He held out a hand. “C’mere, honey.”

  She took one halting step and stopped again. She rubbed her palms against her thighs. “Why?”

  Why did she think? “You expecting me to jump your bones?” He quirked a smile. “You think I’m going to go all hot and heavy on you?”

  “Yes, sort of.”

  So honest. “Hate to disappoint you, but I won’t, I promise. At least not yet.” He continued to hold out his hand. “You said you wanted time, so I’m giving you time. For now I just want to talk.”

  “Talk?” Her tongue slipped out over her lips. “About what?”

  Man, he couldn’t wait to feel that small soft tongue on his body. “You said this morning that I’d ignored everything you had to say, right?”

  “You remember that?”

  He remembered every second of seeing her naked, seeing her anger, her upset.

  How he’d unintentionally wounded her tender feelings.

  “I remember. You said you had a lot of arguments about why we shouldn’t have gotten between the sheets. I was drugged then, but now I’m not, so this will be your chance to tell me—and my chance to convince you otherwise.”

  “I…” Hesitantly, one timid step at a time, she closed the space between them.

  Jackson enfolded her hand in his.

  Her fingers were cold, giving away her fear. Primal instincts rose up, the need to console, comfort, the driving urge to defend and shelter. “I’m going to take very good care of you.” In bed, and out.

  Her lips parted. Her fingers curled against his. “What we talked about doesn’t matter now.” In a rush, she started into the kitchen, towing him along with her. “We did already sleep together.”

  Once in the kitchen, Jackson pulled her around to him. Trying for casualness he didn’t feel, he looped his arms around her. “But you want me to start over, so that’s what I’m going to do.” With her telling him what happened, how could he miss? She’d be his guide. “I know you want me, darlin’. I know you enjoyed yourself.”

  He waited, and she nodded.

  Contentment settled over him. “So what’s the problem then? What objections did you give me?”

  Alani hesitated. She looked at her packages, now stacked on the table, at the half-empty coffee carafe, everywhere except at him. “I can’t do this in the middle of the kitchen.”

  Imagination on hyperdrive, Jackson nudged her closer. “This?”

  “Talk. About this stuff.” She eyed the kitchen table. “Not that. Not what you’re thinking.”

  She knew what he thought? Why was she thinking it? Had they made use of the table at his place? Fun.

  “Oh, I dunno.” He bent to kiss her throat. “I think you’d make a real tasty treat.”

  She bolted away from him. “I need a drink.”

  Left empty-armed, Jackson propped a shoulder against the wall. “You think that’s a good idea?” Did alcohol loosen her up? God help him.

  “I mean something cold.” She opened the refrigerator. “Tea or something.”

  “Nothing that’s been opened already.” He wouldn’t risk the grim possibility that whoever had drugged his drink, had managed to tamper with anything at her place, too.

  Frowning, she stepped back from the refrigerator, moved to her sink and picked up an empty container. “Dare must’ve dumped everything.”

  Course he had. “Why don’t you drink a cola? Or better yet, take a seat and I’ll mix up a new pitcher of tea for you.” He pulled out a chair from the table.

  “Oh.” Realization brought her around to him again, the empty tea pitcher in her hand. She ignored the chair. “That’s why you asked about the can of cola?”

  “Gotta be careful.”

  Slowly, she put the container in the sink. She took a deep breath, then searched his face. “You think someone might have been in my house.”

  A statement, not a question. “Doubtful.” It would be tricky, keeping alert while downplaying the possible danger. “But you know how it is. Why take a chance?” As a rule, he never did. With Alani, he’d use extra care.

  Something passed over her features, something she tried hard to hide. She nodded. “You’re all so cautious.”

  In their line of work, they had to be. “I have an idea. Instead of you showering and settling in for the night, why don’t we go grab something for dinner, maybe rent a movie.” It’d give her a chance to shake off the unease, and him a chance to lighten the sexual tension.

  Her eyes flared. “But I thought…”

  That they’d be in bed together within minutes? Wondering if she’d say it, Jackson waited, his smile banked, his lust churning.

  Tucking her hair behind her ear, she shrugged. “All right. Sure.” She rinsed the pitcher with unnecessary verve. “If you don’t mind, maybe I could stop by the office, too.”

  Jackson approached her, and when he asked, “Why?” from right behind her,
she jumped.

  Not turning to face him, she dried her hands on a dish towel. “If I can’t take calls on my cell, I need to set up the phone there to forward calls to my landline.”

  “Sure, we can do that.” Drawing her back against his chest, he rested his crossed hands over her stomach. “We can do anything you want, long as you don’t try to go off anywhere without me.”

  For only a moment, she rested her head against his shoulder and put her hands over his. “You don’t mind?”

  “You’re not a prisoner, honey. In fact, why don’t you just think of me as a hired escort? You call the shots.”

  She went still. “Interesting concept.” Turning in his arms, she smiled like an imp. “Will it lacerate your male ego for me to ask if you’re up to it?”

  “I’m up.”

  Her mouth twitched. “You know, I might take advantage of all this willingness.”

  “A guy can hope.”

  She laughed softly. “All right, if you’re sure you feel okay now.”

  “I’ll enjoy getting out.”

  “Then just let me go freshen up and we can leave.”

  When she started away, Jackson followed her.

  She stopped in the hallway. “What are you doing?”

  “Which room is yours?”

  “Last room on the left. Why?”

  Jackson moved her aside and strode ahead of her into the room. He stopped short just inside the door, struck by how much the room looked like her—neat, organized, soft and fresh. Very female. But not too perfect.

  Flowers sat on a dresser, and from one drawer a pair of pale blue panties peeked out. Jackson grinned.

  Squawking in outrage, Alani rushed in behind him. “What are you doing?” She zipped around the room rearranging, tucking away, closing and covering.

  “I wanted to get a lay of the house.” Undisturbed by her fervor, he opened the closet and took a peek, went to the window and checked the lock.

  “Get out.”

  “Sorry, no.” He opened the door to her connecting bathroom. A slinky bra that couldn’t possibly do more than decorate hung over the shower rod. Next to the sink, a toothbrush stood in a glass by a dispenser of scented hand soap.

  Her tub was large enough for two, if they stuck close.

  “Jackson…” she warned.

  An oval, fringed rug of cream and pale blue decorated the floor and matched the curtain on the shower and window. He fingered the fine material of the curtain. “Pretty.”

  While she did more complaining, he checked the lock on the bathroom window, too. Making note of her red-faced anger, Jackson started out of the room. “Go ahead and do whatever it is you have to do while I check the other rooms.”

  He stepped out the bedroom door and rethought his exit just in the nick of time.

  His flattened hand kept her from slamming it shut. “Understand, Alani. If you lock me out, and I need to get back in, your door will suffer.” He shouldered his way back in past her discontent. “C’mon honey. Work with me here.”

  “You’re bulldozing again.”

  Jackson thought about it. “Okay.” He put his hands, palms out, in his back pockets and took up a comfortable stance. “Here’s the deal. I need to check the other rooms. I need to know that the windows are secure. I have to be familiar with every egress, all the phones and computers. I need the layout of the house and each room. And no, it’s not because I expect anything to happen. I’d do the same even if I hadn’t been drugged last night.”

  Her golden eyes searched his, and her anger melted away. “You seriously live that way?”

  “Cautious? You betcha.” Always, but especially with her security at stake. “If it bothers you that much for me to see your place, then I’m sorry. You can come along with me if you like. I don’t mind the company. But either way, I’m looking around.”

  Alani dropped back against the door frame. “There’s a guest bedroom, guest bath and my office.” She waved a hand. “Feel free. But please don’t snoop.”

  “You think I would?”

  “Ha!” She rolled her eyes at him. “I know you would.”

  Jackson smiled. “Yeah, maybe.” If he had a reason or thought he’d find something interesting. “But I’ll respect your privacy as much as I can.”

  Expression dubious, she warned, “Don’t go fumbling through the records on my desk. I have them neatly organized.”

  “Fumble? You don’t have a real high opinion of my skills, do you?” To take the sting out of that rebuke, he dragged her close for a kiss. “It’s a wonder I’ve survived so long without you.”

  A LITTLE SLACK-JAWED, Alani watched as Jackson meandered down the hall and disappeared into her office. His long-legged, rangy walk set her heart to tripping; the thought of him going through her personal files slowed it again.

  She snapped her mouth shut.

  Was that parting shot of his mockery over her criticism or a sincere statement reflecting what they’d shared, the bond they’d forged last night?

  A bond that only she could remember.

  Groaning, she put her hands over her face and slumped back into her bedroom. She quietly closed the door and dropped back against it.

  Being honest with herself, she had to admit that deep inside, she’d been expecting—maybe even hoping—that he’d press the issue of intimacy. He wanted her again. He’d been more than open and upfront about that.

  But instead, he chose to honor her wishes, the wishes she knew to be more responsible. More reasonable.

  It would be a very long night.

  Taking her time, Alani freshened up, tidying her hair, brushing her teeth, giving her makeup a boost. With nothing more to do, she girded herself for Jackson’s impact, both emotional and physical, and went in search of him.

  She opened her bedroom door and found him right there in the hallway, leaning against the wall, relaxed, waiting for her.

  Before she could apologize for making him wait, he straightened. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  She stepped out, and his warm palm curved to the small of her back.

  Alani felt the touch everywhere. But then, even if he hadn’t touched her, she’d have been acutely aware of him beside her. When Jackson was in a room, he occupied everything—the space, the air, the attention of those around him.

  Knowing they were alone, with the bedrooms at their backs, quickened her breath.

  “I parked down around the corner.”

  Surprise slowed her steps, but since Jackson kept walking, she did, too. It hadn’t occurred to her that his car was missing. If she’d seen it on the street in front of her house or in her driveway, she’d have been forewarned of his visit.

  And maybe she would have avoided him.

  “You didn’t want me to know you were here?”

  “I didn’t want anyone else to know.” His hand slid to her hip and nudged her a little closer to him. “In case I was followed, no way did I want to lead anyone to you.”

  Another reminder of the danger. “Well, you should bring your car up to my driveway now.”

  “Maybe later.” He stopped at the entrance to her small living room where so much drama had already gone down. “For now, how about we take your car?”

  “All right.” She didn’t mind that. With all he’d been through, it’d probably be better if he wasn’t driving. Sure, he had to be macho and swear he felt no side effects from being drugged, but how could that be? If she took cold medicine, it wiped her out, and he’d been given a drug so heavy-duty that it had obliterated his memory.

  In the kitchen, she found her purse, keys and Jackson’s hat. She rejoined him in the foyer.

  He took the hat from her, slid it onto his head and then held out a hand.

  One brow raised, Alani looked at him questioningly.

  “Keys?” he prompted.

  She slid her purse strap over her shoulder. “That’s okay. I’ll drive.”

  A priceless expression fell over his face.


  “Oh, please.” Alani had to laugh. “It’s not like I asked to carry your gun.”

  He tipped back his hat and scoffed. “I’d say no to that, too.” He scrutinized her. “But you do know how to shoot, don’t you?”

  “I know enough. Trace insisted.” And after her kidnapping, she’d done plenty of practicing to ensure she could handle a weapon.

  He reached for her purse. “You carrying?”

  “No!” Alani snatched the bag away. “Of course not.”

  Considering that, Jackson declared, “We’ll get you a piece. You shouldn’t be out and about without it.” He gave her small designer purse a look of dislike. “You’ll need to carry something bigger, though.”

  She did not want to be armed. “You’re here, so what do I need with a gun? Aren’t you protection enough?”

  He went so still, it almost made her laugh again. Until he said, “You suggesting I should stick around 24/7?”

  “What?” A rush of heat hit her cheeks. “No, of course I wasn’t.”

  Keeping her caught in his gaze for far too long, he studied her, and finally smiled. “Yeah, I’m protection enough. I guess as long as you’re with me, you don’t need anything else.” He snatched the keys out of her lax hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  Objecting was beyond her. Jackson held her back while he opened the door and searched the area with a mere sweep of his gaze that, if she wasn’t familiar with Trace’s habits, she might have missed.

  Apparently he considered the coast clear, and they headed out.

  The bright late-day sun sank a little lower in the sky, casting long tree shadows over her sidewalk but not quite reaching her car.

  “You don’t park in your garage?”

  “Usually, yes.” The car would be sweltering after baking in the sun. “But since I hadn’t planned to be home long, it didn’t seem worth the bother.”

  He opened the passenger door for her. “You came home only to turn around and leave again?”

  Trying to stay busy so she wouldn’t think of him. Not that he needed to know that much. “I’d only wanted to change my sandals, that’s all.”

  Scowling, he closed her door and strode around the hood to the driver’s side. He started the engine but then rested his hands on the steering wheel and hesitated.