Savor the Danger (4 page)

She wasn't fooled; he still had an erection, so she knew he was wide-awake. “Here you go.”

Lowering the arm, he tracked her every move as she set the plate of food on the coffee table and sat down beside him to hand him the aspirin.

He eyed the glass of ice and foaming cola. “You open a new can?”

“Yes.”

He didn't accept the aspirin. Showing his teeth in the semblance of a smile, he said, “Let's strike a bargain.”

Given the look in his eyes, Alani already had an idea what he'd say. She had tried to use her time in the kitchen to collect herself. One look at Jackson, and she was lost again. “What kind of bargain?”

He caught her wrist and tugged her toward him. “Kiss me, and I'll take the aspirin.”

She wanted to so badly. “Only a kiss?” she asked doubtfully.

“For now.”

She hesitated. He didn't.

Taking her lack of denial as agreement, he drew her closer saying, “C'mon now, you can at least give me that.”

“I…” Was it even possible to resist him? She didn't think so. “All right.”

She'd barely gotten the words out before his mouth covered hers in a kiss that was soft, hot.

Deep.

Before she knew it, he had her on her back on the sofa. He still held her wrist as he settled between her legs, pinning her down with his big body. He turned his head for a more complete fit, his tongue moving past her teeth, teasing hers.

Alani quickly lost the fight, already wanting him, needing him—and he freed her mouth.

Balanced over her, he dragged in a breath. “I'm coming on too strong.”

“Yes.” But she actually liked it.

He sawed his teeth together. “Just so you know, honey. You can trust me. No means no to me. If you say it—”

“I will.”

Panting, he pushed up on stiffened arms and said, “Give me the damn aspirin.” But he didn't wait for her. He took them from her hand, tossed them back and reached for the drink. After downing half the glass, he plunked it back to the coffee table and stared at her. “We going for round two?”

“Round two?”

He gave one sharp nod. “You want me to eat, you gotta kiss me again.”

Forget bargains. His obvious need made everything else unimportant. Already reaching for him, she said, “Okay.”

His eyes blazed. He lowered himself to her.

And a knock sounded on her front door.

Alani went stiff with apprehension.

Jackson cursed under his breath.

The knock sounded again, more urgent this time, and then she heard the unmistakable sound of a key in the lock.

Ohmigod. That had to be her brother; no one else had a key to her place. She shoved frantically at Jackson's shoulders. “Jackson, move!”

On a ragged groan, he started to do just that—and the door opened.

They both swiveled their heads.

Not only her brother stood there, but Dare, too. Both men froze.

Alani's heart shot into her throat. She was trying to think of what to say, how to ease the awkwardness, when Jackson sat up and pulled her into his side.

As if awkward situations didn't faze him at all, he said,
“I'd shoot you both for rotten timing, but I guess we had to do this sooner or later.”

His face drawn from his surprise, his eyes narrowed and his demeanor mean, Trace slammed the door. “Yeah,” he said, and he started forward. “Let's do this now.”

 

J
ACKSON WAS MORE
than a little amazed when, before he could even decide if he wanted to face off with Trace or not, Alani jumped up to stand in front of him. She spread her slim arms wide and braced her feet apart. “Knock it off, Trace. Right now.”

Furious, Trace drew up short. “I
knew
you were fibbing when you told me you were at the movies.”

“Sorry about that.” Alani squirmed in guilt. “I just… I needed some time.”

“So I see.”

Brows climbing high, Dare leaned around Trace to see Jackson. “She's protecting you?”

Suffering his own surprise, Jackson settled back into the couch. “Guess so.”

With his first good look at Jackson, Dare recoiled. “Jesus, man. You look like—”

“Shit. I know.” He caught Alani's waist and plunked her down…right into his lap. Her backbone went stiff, probably from shock at his daring.

To her brother, he said, “Get a grip, Trace. We need to talk.”

Held back by Alani's displeasure and probably his own sense of fair play, Trace locked his jaw. “It hardly needs explanation.”

“'Fraid it does.”

Stiffening even more, Alani gasped and jerked around to face him. “Don't you
dare.
”

Her appalled tone quadrupled Dare and Trace's curiosity. Trace asked, “Don't dare do what?”

Jackson didn't want to embarrass her, so it was with a lot of regret that he said reasonably, “They have to know, honey.”

“Jackson…” she warned.

“One of you better spit it out,” Dare said. “My imagination is in hyperdrive.”

“I think someone drugged me.”

Dare and Trace pulled back. “Well, hell,” Dare said. “Didn't see that one coming.”

Alani tried to leave him, but Jackson held on, and short of causing a scene, she couldn't.

Trace, never one to miss a thing, glared.

Dare sat on the edge of the chair, patience personified. “All right, let's hear it.”

Alani struggled anew, and that prodded Trace's anger. In a deadly whisper, he ordered, “Let her go.”

His deadly whispers didn't faze Jackson. “Not happening.”

Trace started forward.

And just that quick, Alani stopped fighting him and instead went back to defending him. “Stop right there, Trace! I mean it.”

Trace pulled up short, his left eye twitching.

No sense in dragging this out and making it worse, Jackson decided. “I woke up this morning with—”

“Jackson!”

“—Alani in bed with me.”

A collective breath-holding took place. Hell, he could almost hear heartbeats, it got so damn quiet. Jackson looked at Dare and then Trace.

Giving Alani a slight hug, he said, “Thing is, I have no recollection at all of getting her there.”

Beyond their slack-jawed surprise, neither Dare nor Trace reacted.

Jackson shrugged. “For a few hours this morning I was sick as hell, seeing double, light-headed, weak.”

Alani looked guilty, probably because she'd stormed out on him. But he understood her reaction. Always, whenever he'd considered getting her under him, he'd thought in terms of gentleness, easing her into things, showing deference to her lack of experience and the trauma of her past.

Had he been gentle with her? God, he hoped so, because her proverbial “morning after” sure had sucked. It'd been memorable—for being so awful.

Jackson hugged her again. Of course Dare and Trace both noticed.

“All I can think is that someone drugged me, but I don't know who would do that, or how or why. Far as I can remember, I spent the day working on my house.” The place was livable but far from complete, so he preferred to stay in his current residence still. His plan had been to get Alani involved, using her expertise as a professional decorator. Whether she'd accepted it or not, he knew the sexual spark was there between them, and time together, alone, would only work in his favor.

But now…hell, he could maybe use the plan to soften her up after whatever had transpired yesterday.

“You see anyone while you were working?”

Jackson shook his head. “Not that I can remember.”

Silence reigned.

Since Alani burned with embarrassment and Trace looked lethal, Dare took over.

“If you were drugged, it could've been Rohypnol. Easy enough to slip that into a drink. It's a sedative, so it could make you sick, and it can cause that amnesiatic effect.”

Jackson's brain throbbed even more. “A date-rape drug? Seriously?”

Alani panicked. “We need to take him to the hospital!”

“No.” Jackson held her when she started to stand. He had no intention of getting on anyone's radar. When he found out who had done this, he'd handle it himself, without the interference of local officials.

“Don't be an idiot,” Alani told him with venom.

“Too late,” Trace said.

Jackson ignored the insult. He got where Trace was coming from. Alani's brother didn't like being blindsided with the idea that his baby sister was in a sexual relationship. Understandable.

Jackson only wished he could remember the sexual relationship.

Again, Dare interceded. “I'm not sure the hospital would do him much good, hon. Urine screens don't look for Rohypnol. A blood test would be better but usually hospital labs don't have the equipment to screen for it, so it'd have to be a send-out—and that takes time.”

“And by then, I'll be fine,” Jackson told her. He ran his hands up and down her arms, hoping to reassure her. “I'm already feeling better, in fact.” A lot better, given how she'd kissed him, how quickly she'd melted once he got his mouth on hers.

Soon as he could get rid of Dare and Trace, he'd show her how great he felt.

Course, he needed to get it together. He absolutely couldn't continue the hot and heavy relentless pursuit. Alani could take it as a lack of respect, maybe think he only wanted one thing from her, when in fact, he wasn't sure how much he wanted.

Sex, definitely. Conversation, sure. He wanted to
protect her, and he wanted her to trust him. What all that meant, he couldn't say. He refused to jump the gun and mire himself in emotional restraints.

Once he had her, he'd be able to regroup and become a gentleman again. Maybe. With the way she pushed all his buttons, he couldn't be sure—

Alani fretted. “I don't know…”

“If we're assuming he was given a roofie, then he can ride it out,” Dare told her.

“Well…” She looked at Jackson again, full of soft concern and maybe even caring. “Okay.”

Trace shook his head in disgust. “It wasn't really up to you, Alani.”

No, it wasn't. Never would Jackson let a woman dictate to him. It wasn't in his nature. But to soften that reality, he said, “Trust me, Alani, I'm okay.”

Her censuring gaze swept the room. “As if any of you would admit to needing help.”

Dare took that as her agreement. “Great, then that's settled. Now on to the rest.” He gave Alani a pointed look. “You spent the night with him?”

Her chin went up. “Yes.”

“What time did you get to his place?”

At the no-nonsense questioning and lack of condemnation—at least from Dare—she calmed a little. “Around dinnertime yesterday.”

“He was okay when you got there?”

“He was…” She glanced at Jackson, lifted a shoulder. “I suppose so. That is, he seemed a little off, but still—”

Trace suddenly lost it. With disbelief, he said, “
Jackson,
Alani? Really?”

She shouted right back, “Yes,
really.
”

“Without a single date? Without a damn clue? Or is that something you've kept from me?”

“No!” Then she flushed and cast a harassed look at Jackson. “That is…”

“He knows what it is, honey.” Not about to let her brother badger her into ending things before he even had a chance to figure out what he wanted, Jackson narrowed his eyes. “Get used to it, Trace.”

Dare held up a hand. “Do you think we could keep it civil so we can figure out what happened?”

Jackson shrugged. “Fine by me.” Never mind that he'd been slipped a mickey, that his head still pounded and his strength hadn't completely returned. Alani was a warm, soft weight on his lap.

With every breath, he inhaled the unique perfume of her body. For the first time ever, he was able to stroke his fingers through her long blond hair, as he did right now. He could touch her skin, kiss her—and he did, lifting her delicate hand to brush his mouth over her knuckles.

She shivered, but otherwise tried to pretend the kiss meant nothing.

Trace looked apoplectic, but what the hell? Jackson couldn't stop himself. Her brother was damn lucky he hadn't already thrown him out so that he and Alani could get back to business.

But then again, why kick Trace out when his presence goaded Alani into showing her true feelings?

At any other time, having a woman—having
anyone
—act protective would insult the hell out of him. He could damn well face any problem head-on without help; he'd been doing it all his life. He didn't need anyone shielding him.

But Alani wasn't just any woman. She was special,
so he relished this new twist. It beat the hell out of her telling him “no” any day.

Dare said to Trace, “Well?”

“Fine. But let's get on with it.”

“Stop rushing him. He's been through enough.”

Jackson hid his grin. When he'd first met Alani, he'd known she wasn't the fainthearted flower her brother made her out to be. Sure, she was a delicate little thing, especially compared to his height and physicality. But she had the same strength of character, the same conviction, stubbornness and independence as Trace.

Losing their parents young had to have been rough. But Trace had overcompensated. He'd sheltered Alani more than she needed, pampered her beyond reason.

And then she'd been taken by human traffickers, and…

Jackson put his arms around her and pressed his face into her neck. He hadn't known her then, but he couldn't think about it without wanting to kill men who were already dead.

Mistaking his reaction for something altogether different, Alani touched his hair with a gentle hand. “Jackson, are you okay? Do you feel sick again? We can put off the inquisition until later, if you need more time.”

Trace growled in annoyance.