by Lori Foster
She clutched at his hand—until he pulled into the private garage. “What are you doing?”
“Fetching other transportation.” He rolled down the window and pushed in a code on the security entrance. A gate rolled up, and he drove into the darkened garage.
Looking around in surprise, Alani realized they weren’t exactly “down around the corner,” as he’d claimed.
Her accusing gaze swung back to his. “Okay, Jackson Davidson, so now would be a good time for you to start explaining.”
She deliberately stressed his fictitious name, so he addressed that first. “Settle down, woman. You knew I used an alias.”
All her soft, heated sensuality of a minute before coalesced into temper. “Jackson Davidson,” she repeated with derision. “How did you come up with that?”
“What does it matter?”
“It matters because now I’m wondering if I even know your real name.” She sat back in her seat, arms crossed, expression stark. “Now I’m wondering if I know anything about you that’s real.”
His own black mood crowded in. “You know I want you.” He leaned into her anger. “And you know I’ll protect you. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“Is there a woman you don’t want?” She poked at his chest. “And as to protection, Dare or my own brother could see to that.”
She just had to keep pushing him, infuriating him with unfamiliar feelings—like possessiveness. His voice lowered to match his frustration. “Damn it, woman, I haven’t wanted anyone else since meeting you.”
The harsh words echoed in the cavernous garage.
Alani blinked big eyes at him. “Really?”
God help him, she made him nuts. “Dare and Trace don’t need to hover over you, because I’m on it. Me and only me. Get used to it.” And with that forceful command, he kissed her harder than he meant to—and was surprised when she kissed him back.
Nothing could have gentled him quicker, smothered him with more emotion, than a reminder of how much she wanted him, too.
With a soft sound of acceptance, she gave in to him, and Jackson again had to fight himself to regroup. “Easy, love.” He kissed her bottom lip, the corner of her mouth. “Let’s get to your place and then we can pick up from here.”
CAUGHT BETWEEN relief that Jackson hadn’t noted the lack of a condom in her retelling of their lovemaking, and annoyance that he’d outright lied to her over where he’d parked, Alani hadn’t been prepared for the impact of his kiss.
But he had an astounding effect on her. Like it or not, she had to accept that where Jackson Savor was concerned, she had no willpower.
He said that he hadn’t wanted anyone else since meeting her. She pushed her hair from her face and dragged in a deep breath.
“Is your last name really Savor? Or is that a deception, too?”
Taken aback, he gazed at her, irate, turned on, maybe even a little lost.
No, what was she thinking? A man of Jackson’s caliber, a mercenary with his skill set, did not feel lost over romantic conflicts.
“Yeah, that’s my name. Don’t spread it around, okay?” On a wave of irritability, he snatched his hat from the backseat, opened the car door and got out. After slamming the hat onto his head, he did more adjusting to his jeans, making it impossible for her not to notice his erection.
He leaned back into the car.
Dark green eyes direct, voice sharp, he said, “For your information, this was one of those precautionary measures that, at the time, I figured you didn’t need to know.”
“And now?”
“Hell, woman, the way you’ve kept me twisted, the location of my car was not uppermost in my mind.”
Alani considered that and understood. “Okay.”
He started to relax.
“You’ll tell me how you and Trace met?”
He didn’t even try to hide his groan. He even managed to look long-suffering.
She didn’t need to be hit over the head. “Forget I asked. God forbid I dig out a state secret, or push you past your comfort zone over something so—”
“Fine.” One hand on the car roof, one on the open door, he dropped his head forward in a hangdog pose. “I’ll tell you when we get to your place, okay?”
He made her feel guilty, and she didn’t like it. “Not necessary.”
“Yeah, I think it is.” His gaze sought hers. “I won’t apologize for being set in my ways. I’ve always been private, and working with your brother has made me more so.”
“I didn’t ask you to apologize.” She wanted honesty, not contrition.
“Thing is, the how and why of the way we met isn’t something I like to talk about. But you might as well hear it from me, instead of your brother. He’d probably distort it just to make me look bad.”
Back to square one. “If you really don’t want—”
“Doesn’t matter.” He shook his head. “It was bound to come up sooner or later.”
Sooner or later, meaning he intended to be involved with her beyond the immediate future? She just didn’t know. “Okay.”
“Good. Then scuttle your sexy little ass over here behind the steering wheel so we can get a move on.”
Grabbing up her purse, Alani chose not to scuttle in favor of getting out and walking around the car. The garage wasn’t that big, and she counted twelve cars inside. “What is this place?”
“Private parking garage. We make use of them in areas we visit often. Soon as you set up house, Trace secured this place.”
She slid in behind the wheel. “Who parks here?”
“We do.” He went about fastening her seat belt for her.
She was intrigued enough that she let him. “But who do the cars belong to?”
“Why?” He surveyed the colorful array of vehicles in various price ranges, from brand-new to barely road-worthy. “One of them appeals to you?”
“It’s not that.” She’d never been car-crazy. She wanted reliable transportation, period.
“Long as you don’t have a preference, I think I’ll grab that black SUV. It looks like it has some muscle.”
Knowing she was about to learn yet another secret, Alani asked, “What do you mean, you’re going to grab it? Surely you don’t steal cars as a regular habit.”
“Course not. These are all ours, here in a pinch in case we have to lose a tail.” He closed her door and then rapped on the roof of the car. “Head straight home. I’m not expecting any trouble, but know that I’ll be right behind you.”
In openmouthed surprise, Alani watched him go to a truck and open the passenger door. He lifted out two duffel bags, then got something from the glove box. He closed and locked the truck and went to the shiny new SUV, opened it and got inside. Through the door window, he waved her around him.
Amazing.
Apparently there was a lot more to her brother’s enterprise than she’d ever imagined.
She had a feeling there was more to Jackson Savor, too. Everything about him enthralled her.
She couldn’t wait to learn even more.
WHILE JACKSON PREPPED the steaks, Alani put potatoes in the microwave and got the salad together. By silent agreement, they chose to get the food ready before weighing in on what was sure to be a lengthy conversation.
Jackson had left his duffel bags just inside the front door. Alani figured he didn’t yet want to store them in the guest room, in hopes that he could share her room.
She sort of hoped that, too.
On her patio, the grill heated. They planned to eat outside, so she’d already loaded a tray with place settings and napkins. Though they were both busy, she couldn’t stop stealing glances at Jackson. Even watching him wash his hands in the sink, the slide of his long fingers, now soap slick, left her fascinated.
She loved his hands. They were big and capable, twice the size of hers. They’d touched her gently, and when she wanted it most, not so gently. Somehow he’d known how to touch her, where, when, to get the most effect.
The cowboy hat, now gone, had further rumpled his hair. Alani had a vivid recollection of his head between her legs, her hand in his sun-streaked hair as his beard-rough jaw teased her tender inner thighs in direct contrast to the soft play of his tongue on her, in her.
Letting out a shuddering breath, she drew his attention. Keeping his back to her as he stood at the counter with the steaks, he glanced at her, then came back for a longer, knowing perusal.
His gaze roamed over her—her breasts, her belly. “You okay, sugar?”
“Yes.” Here in the kitchen, alone with Jackson while preparing dinner together, she felt better than she had since her kidnapping.
The corner of his mouth lifted. He turned with the steaks on a platter. “Penny for your thoughts.”
Never before had she taken part in sexual banter, but if he wanted to play, she’d give it her best shot. “I was thinking how much I like your body.” But that didn’t quite cover it, so she shook her head. “Not just how strong you are, but everything else, too.”
He leaned back on the counter. “Like?”
“Your hands. Your feet. The way your shoulders move under your T-shirt. The slide of your Adam’s apple when you swallow. Even your ears are nice.”
He made a sound that was half humor, half chagrin. “I think you and I have unfinished business and it’s tainting your brain.” Gesturing with a nod of his head, he said, “Come on. Keep me company outside while I grill these bad boys.”
“Okay.” She stuck the salad in the fridge, pulled the potatoes from the microwave onto a plate, and followed him out. “At least the porch is shadowed this time of day.”
“You have a nice place. I like it.” The sizzle of beef wafted into the air as he put the steaks on the hot grill. After taking the potatoes from her, he said, “Take a seat. Talk to me.”
“About what?” She smoothed the skirt of her sundress and sat on the bench to the picnic table. The flowers planted in and around her landscaping drew bees. Chickadees flitted in and out of the birdbath. A light breeze kept the hot, muggy air moving.
“In the car, when the BMW ran us off the road…” He seasoned the steaks with salt and cracked pepper. “You were shaken up for only a few seconds.”
The evening had turned sultry and ultra comfortable. Alani didn’t mind making admissions of her weakness, not to Jackson. She slipped her feet from her sandals and wiggled her toes. “Actually, it almost stopped my heart.”
“No way.” Letting the steaks sizzle, he stepped to the side and crossed his arms over his chest. “You looked cool as a cucumber.”
The things he said waffled between outrageous and hilarious. “Not me.” Wrinkling her nose, she confessed, “I’m a terrible coward.”
He pointed a big fork at her. “If you’d ever dealt with a real coward, you’d know better.”
“I suppose you have?” She’d envisioned him going up against the cruelest villains, facing off with practiced criminals, trading fists with killers—and walking away triumphant. But she’d never thought about him engaged with a coward.
“Plenty of them. Deep down, most of the people I encounter on jobs are chickenshit. They love to bully and abuse because it makes them feel more powerful. But when they know they’re busted, they resort to pleading real quick.”
“That makes them cowards?”
“The worst kind. And I can tell you, you don’t fit the bill. You kept your head, and our cover, today. After the crazy way that car came after us, a lot of women would’ve been rattled and blubbering.” He rolled a shoulder. “Some men, too. But you hid your reaction and smiled at me.”
“I didn’t want the others to see me upset.”
He shook his head. “Bet they were as impressed as me.”
When he turned back to the grill to check the steaks, Alani thought about what Dare had told her.
Should she confide in Jackson? She didn’t want him to have a false impression of her. She’d done her fair share of blubbering. Sometimes, when the darkness closed in around her, she cried still.
“I…I sometimes go into panic mode.”
Alert to her changed tone and the gravity of what she said, Jackson set aside the fork and gave her his undivided attention. “You mean, since the kidnapping?”
She nodded. “For the longest time, my life seemed charmed. Nothing bad could happen to me.” She’d been so naive. So dumb.
“You lost your parents.” Jackson sounded too solemn. “Nothing charmed in that.”
“I know.” Her smile fell flat, but she still mourned the loss of her mother and father, and talking about them always left her wistful at what could never be recovered. “After they died, Trace seemed determined to insulate me from anything negative. Not just sad feelings, but…life in general. He never wanted me to be gloomy or insulted or disappointed about anything.”
“I know he’s protective.”
“Somehow, that word doesn’t quite cover it.” This smile was more genuine. “Trace has always watched me so closely, probably more so than our parents would have.”
“Because he was afraid of losing you, too.”
Alani nodded.
“That had to be tough on a young woman.” He teased her, saying, “How could you cut loose with Trace’s eagle eye on you?”
“Exactly.” For her, there’d been no acting out, no cutting loose. Not until she’d gone to the beach—and then she’d been taken… She squeezed her eyes shut.
“Hey.” Jackson put the steaks on a plate and closed the grill. Straddling the bench beside her, he enclosed her in his arms.
Softly, Alani said, “I let Trace take responsibility for me. It was so much easier than being responsible for myself.”
“And because he was all you had, too.”
“I didn’t want to disappoint him.”
Using just his baby finger, he eased a few strands of hair away from her cheek. “I don’t think you could.”
She half laughed at that. If she hadn’t disappointed Trace, she’d more than disappointed herself. “But you know Trace. You know that he excels at everything he does. For the longest time, he was the biggest, strongest, smartest, most capable guy I knew.”
“A regular superhero, huh?” Jackson glanced down, then back into her eyes. “I guess no other guys measured up?”
“They seemed wimpy in comparison, and just plain uninteresting.”
“Shit.”
Restraining her smile, Alani leaned into him. He felt good, and smelled even better with the way the humidity had warmed his skin and hair. She loved the softness of his cotton T-shirt over firm, pronounced muscles. “But then I got taken….”
“And retrieved.” He kissed her temple.
“And then I met you.”
His hand moved over her back, stroking, caressing. “So I measure up?”
Anxious for a lighter tone, Alani stood. “I’ll let you know after I taste my steak.”
JACKSON WAITED until her eyes closed in pleasure and she made a purring sound of contentment. Damn. She even made dining sexy. “Good?”
“Delicious.”
That she wasn’t a picky, rabbit-food-only kind of gal was a huge bonus for him. “It’s the cracked pepper.” He wolfed down his own big bite of juicy steak.
“Could be the company, too.” Her lashes lifted, and she gave him the warm look of a woman romantically involved.
It should have set off alarm bells, but instead, Jackson basked in her acceptance. “So I pass muster?”
She paused with a big bite of salad halfway to her mouth. “I’d say you excel.”
“At more than grilling?”
She lowered the fork. “Yes.” She sighed. “Last night…you were amazing.”
He’d be amazing again, soon as she was ready.
“Before the kidnapping, I never dated much. With Trace on guard duty and most guys naturally wary of him, it always seemed like too much trouble.”
He wanted to know everything about her, the good, the bad and the shit
that never should have happened. “After the kidnapping?”
“I was afraid.” She said it in an offhand tone, complete with a shrug.
“Afraid of men?” Jackson waited, and after a few more bites, she looked at him again.
“Afraid of everything, really. Guys asked me out, and I kept wondering if all they wanted was a date, or if they were luring me away again.”
Luring her away… He’d dealt with enough victims to get a full visual, and God, the knowledge of what she’d gone through ate at him. “That’s what happened on the beach?”
Introspective, she picked at her potato with fork and knife. “I thought I was being so daring.” Her laugh sounded self-deprecating. “I was twenty-two, and finally on my first real vacation, on my own for a change. I had friends there with me, but they were already involved and their boyfriends were there and I felt weird, being the only single woman.”
At that age, especially with her sheltered life, she’d been a girl rather than a woman. But so much had changed since then. “Guys flirted with you.”
“Some.”
“You in a bikini?” He took another bite to encourage her to do the same. “Come on, Alani. I bet they all flirted.”
Modesty kept her grin at bay. “It was so fun, having that attention, teasing back.” She peeked at him. “Even sneaking a few kisses here and there.”
Unwarranted jealousy burned through his veins, but he kept his tone mild, wanting her to confide in him. “And more?”
“No. Not…not then.” Disgusted, she set down her utensils and dropped her face into her hands.
The first sound she made set off alarm bells. Crying?
Usually, a weepy woman brought out all his macho instincts. He considered tears to be the womanliest a woman could be, and that made him feel indulgent, like a big protector. While coddling a woman, he often got…turned on.
But with Alani, his stomach bottomed out, and his chest constricted. He reached for her hand. “Babe, what is it?”
She made the sound again, a dry laugh that pained him as much as tears would have. That she could so easily jerk around his feelings bugged him big-time.
“Think about it, Jackson.” She lowered her hands. “When Trace is around, he sees everything.”