Savor the Danger (12 page)

Alani wiggled out of Marc's embrace. She showed her teeth in what she hoped looked more like a smile than anticipation of strangling Jackson. “Goodbye.”

His hands fisted, his gait a little unsteady, Marc finally turned and left.

When Alani started to speak, Jackson held up a finger.
In the past five minutes, he'd had more mood swings than a menopausal woman. First turned-on, then territorial, bored, aggressive and now on alert. If she let him, he'd make her dizzy with his ever-changing disposition.

In stealth mode, Jackson caught her hand to draw her into the house. Sensing that something had him on edge, she went along willingly. He led her through the house to the front window where, with one finger, he lifted aside a curtain to peek out.

Standing back, Alani folded her arms. “What, exactly, are you doing?”

“Making sure the bastard leaves.”

She knew he meant Marc. “Why wouldn't he?”

“Why wouldn't he have called to tell you he was coming by?” Jackson's profile went taut at whatever he saw through the window. “Why would he have crept around to the back of the house?”

Before she could question that, he said, “He
was
sneaking, hon. Otherwise I'd have heard him sooner.”

So…unlike her, Jackson hadn't been so involved in that devastating kiss that he'd lost sense of time and place?

Great. She'd been smart to ask for a commitment-free affair. No reason to advertise to him that she was already half in love.

She wanted him, no two ways about that. But she had her pride. Not knowing what Jackson felt kept her from being obvious about her own feelings. “He's been here before, Jackson. He had no reason to be sneaky.”

“Yeah? Then why did he park down the street so far from your house?”

No way. Alani squeezed in front of Jackson's broad chest to look for herself.

With his nose in her hair, he said, “That's his car, right? Metallic gray Mercedes?”

“Yes,” Alani murmured, “that's his car.”

Jackson nuzzled against her neck. “Not as rich as the BMW, but still pretty costly.”

Sure enough, Marc had parked several houses down, when usually he would have parked in the driveway. What was he up to? “Maybe he saw your car and…I don't know. He guessed I was with another guy so he wanted to just…take a peek?”

That sounded lame even to her.

“You think he wanted to spy on you?” Slipping an arm around her, Jackson opened his hand over her belly. “I can buy that.”

Now that Marc was in his car ready to leave, she stepped back from the curtain. “What do you really think he was doing?”

“Besides being an ass?”

She couldn't defend Marc; he had behaved horribly. “He wasn't usually like that.”

“I don't care what he was like, he still had his hands on you.” Jackson caught her wrists and turned her so that her back was to the wall beside the front window. With sensual intent—and a firm press of his hips—he pinned her there. “And he insulted you. Even though the dipshit didn't make any real headway, I've got the urge to remove every thought of him from your memory.”

Not necessary. With Jackson around, how could she think of another man? But she had a feeling she'd appreciate his efforts all the same. Their banter throughout the day, all the kissing and touching, and especially Jackson's outspoken desire, had worked against her.

Alive with need, Alani squirmed beneath his hold. “What do you suggest?”

His gaze brightened. He bent to kiss her, but the kiss didn't last. “Soon, honey.”

Soon? But her brain—and her body—had already jumped ahead to what they would do. Now.

 

T
HE SETTING SUN
sent streaks of pink, purple and orange across the graying sky. The temperature had cooled, but not enough. Mosquitoes feasted relentlessly.

So Jackson had a new girlfriend? Huh. Or maybe, given that most of the women didn't last any longer than it took for him to bed them, this was his first real girlfriend.

The frail little blonde not only had him at her place, she had him facing off with another guy.

Interesting.

The binoculars were a great investment. They'd made it easy to see everything, even from a good distance away. It was a novel thing to see Jackson playing house, sitting down to a picnic table to eat. Of course, that hadn't lasted long before he had the poor woman half dragged over the table so he could have at her mouth.

Jackson Savor had no sense of moderation.

Luckily the other guy had shown up, interrupting things just as they got nauseating.

Voices didn't carry so far, but it didn't take a genius to read the body language. Though he tried to hide it, Jackson didn't like the other guy talking to her, touching her.

He wasn't just protecting the woman. Nope, he'd staked a claim, guarding her like a prized possession.

Was he in love?

Love could be used against a person. Love was a most powerful weapon.

Plenty of trouble would be heading Jackson's way.

Soon everyone would know just how equipped he was to deal with it.

 

D
AMN
,
BUT IT WASN'T
easy to turn his back on Alani, especially with her looking so…
ready.

Finally.

If the delays had happened to anyone else, he'd find the situation hilarious.

Not so funny when he was the one suffering a perpetual boner.

But as much as he wanted to accommodate them both, he felt a menace—maybe Tobin, but maybe not. And damn it, he couldn't chance her security.

He dug out his cell phone.

Breathless, all warmed up, Alani asked, “Who are you calling?”

He had to close his eyes against the urge to put off responsibility. “Your brother.”

She threw up her hands. “Great. By all means. Keep Trace apprised. I'll just go put up our dinner mess.”

Jackson swung her around, kissed her hard and said against her mouth, “There's nothing I want more than to get busy with you. You gotta know that.” He searched her gaze, willing her to understand. When she nodded, he kissed her again. “I'll make it worth the wait, I promise.”

She curled her fingers over the front of his belt and gave a small tug. “I'm going to hold you to that.”

He stood there, horny as hell, as she walked away. When she went through the back door, he shook himself and trailed after her. Until he figured out what was going on, he wouldn't let her out of his sight.

With the push of one button, he called Trace. Her brother answered on the first ring.

“Yeah?”

Alani carried a filled tray back into the house, and he followed. “You at my apartment?”

“Yup.” Trace sounded distracted. “Not finding too much, though.”

Damn. “I was afraid of that, but it was worth a shot.”

“That why you called?”

“No.” He tracked Alani's movements as she began rinsing plates and sticking them in the dishwasher. “I know you've got your hands full, so is there any chance Chris can look into the whereabouts of Tobin?” As Dare's friend and superassistant in all things, Chris had access to all kinds of information.

“Already done. Supposedly he's off on a leave of absence. His staff thinks he's out of the country, and according to them, he's been gone since about the time Alani broke things off. I find it hard to believe he's taking the breakup that hard, but who knows? I can dig some more, but—”

Jackson finally found his voice. “He was just here.”

A pause, and then, “Interesting.”

“Yeah.” Jackson saw Alani smile, a shy, curious, anticipatory smile. Heat roiled through him, and he said absently, “I knocked him out.”

“You want to tell me why?”

“Yeah, he—” Alani stepped up to him, so Jackson said, “Hang on a sec.” He covered the phone.

She folded her hands together and cleared her throat. “I'm going to take a shower.”

He started to offer to shower with her, but she cut him off.

“And I'm going to lock the door.” She tried to look stern, but instead she looked flushed and maybe a little nervous. “A smart man would know not to intrude.”

Explicit visuals blasted his brain: Alani naked, wet, soap-slick… He swallowed and managed a nod. “If you linger too long, I'm a goner. Just so you know.”

Heat colored her cheeks and parted her lips. “When I'm done, we're going to clear the air.”

Clear the air how? Of sexual tension? That worked for him. “You mean…?”

“We'll talk. That is, if you still don't mind answering some questions?”

He could think of a dozen different things he'd rather do, and they all involved Alani naked, but he shrugged. “Sure thing, if that's what it takes.”

Her gaze went to his mouth; her hand touched his chest. “And then you promised to help me make up for lost time.”

Oh, yeah. That promise he would keep, and then some. “After your shower, don't bother getting dressed.”

“Jackson,” she warned, “I do want to talk first.”

“And we will. In bed. Naked.” He cupped her cheek. “Deal?”

Excitement darkened the gold of her eyes and made them look slumberous—the same way he imagined she'd look right after a climax. She took two deep breaths, then nodded and hurried away.

Jackson watched the gentle sway of her hips, how her long blond hair shimmered down her back.

Damn, he needed to get off the phone, and fast.

He put the cell back to his ear and rushed through the rest of his explanations. “Tobin had it coming. He was being an ass, insulting her, even challenging me—”

“No way.”

“Yeah.” Jackson still couldn't credit how the idiot had tried to punch him. He shook his head. “I let him take two wild swings before I decked him. The big baby went out cold, and when he came to, Alani sent him packing.”

Trace laughed. “Figures. So what did he really want?”

“I don't know. Yet.” Jackson went on to explain about how Marc had parked up the street. “He was too far away for me to see the license plate number, but I got it the first time I met him.”

“I already have it.”

Jackson had figured as much.

“I'll take care of unraveling Tobin. But have you told Alani about Arizona yet?”

Hell, there hadn't been much opportunity for full disclosure. Though he didn't want to admit it, even to himself, he dreaded that particular conversation. It could be a deal-breaker, and he didn't want to risk it. Not yet.

Jackson looked toward the hall where Alani had gone. “I'll get to it.”

“You better, because the school sent you some mail.”

Shit. He hadn't given Trace a key to his mailbox, but that wouldn't have stopped Trace. Knowing damn good and well that he'd already read it, Jackson asked, “All right, let's hear it.”

“They're discreet. The letter informed you of a need to meet.”

That was usually the message. What had happened now? Jackson let out a long breath. “I'll see to it.” After he saw to Alani. But for now, he was more than ready to drop the topic of Arizona. “Keep me posted if you two find anything.”

“The same.” Trace disconnected the call.

Jackson looked around her house. He could hear the shower running, so he figured he had a few minutes yet. He went through the house, locking up, taking some extra security measures so that he could better see to Alani without concern that intruders could slip in unnoticed. Sure, he'd still be aware of anything that happened, but he could relax a little.

He heard the shower shut off, and his abdomen tightened. He was already getting hard just thinking about her.

Before she emerged, he went to his duffel and got out a box of rubbers. Detouring into her bedroom, he turned down the bed, set out the rubbers and cleared space for his weapons.

Wrapped in a towel, her hair twisted atop her head, Alani walked in. She froze in the doorway when she saw him.

God Almighty, she posed the greatest temptation he'd ever seen. The towel barely covered her from breasts to upper thighs. She had her knees squeezed together, her bare feet touching.

Clutching the towel for all she was worth, she licked her lips. “You were waiting for me?”

“Getting ready.” He pulled off his shirt and tossed it to a chair. Next he sat on the bed and unlaced his boots. As he pulled off the boots and his socks, he said, “I'm going to take a quick shower, too. You'll stay here in the bed until I'm done?”

She nodded. “Yes.” But she didn't move.

Jackson smiled at her—and stood. Keeping her gaze locked in his, he unbuckled his thick, heavy belt.

Her eyes flared wide.

Reaching to the small of his back, he held the holster and slid the black leather belt from the loops on his jeans. He took the Beretta from the holster so he could keep it with him, but put the holster and belt, along with the knife from his boot, on her nightstand.

Her gaze traveled all over his body, but she asked, “What are you going to do with the gun?”

“Nothing, I hope. But where I go, the gun goes.” Bare-chested and barefoot, he closed the space between them.
This near to her, he could smell the lotion she'd used, and the subtler, sexier scent of her skin and hair, and her growing arousal. He let his gaze wander over her, from her smooth, narrow shoulders, over her upper chest, still dewy from the shower, down to her cleavage, enhanced by her white-knuckled grip on the towel.

He'd had a lot of wants in his lifetime, some basic, some frivolous, many carnal. But nothing compared to how he wanted her.

Keeping the gun away from her, he reached up with his free hand and, with the backs of his knuckles, brushed a few escaped tendrils of hair away from her temple. His hand shook. With her hair up, he could see the wild thrumming of her pulse in her throat.

With one finger, he touched her knuckles. “You okay, darlin'? You look like you might faint on me.” He trailed that teasing finger up and over the exposed swells of her breasts. “I'd sooner you be wide awake and participating, you know? Maybe giving me a nice moan or two.”