Savor the Danger (5 page)

“He's fine, Alani.” Dare gave Jackson a pointed look until he sat up straight again. “But he won't be if he doesn't start explaining soon.”

“Can't.” Knowing more discussion would embarrass Alani further, but seeing no help for it, Jackson rolled a shoulder. “All I remember is finding Alani in my bed. I was wasted, she walked out on me, and that's all I know. You're going to have to grill her for the nitty-gritty.” And maybe in the bargain, he'd find out a few things, too.

Her elbow came back sharp and hard into his ribs.
So much for her concern.

Trace's face went red. Jackson knew he wanted to curse, but he tried hard to curb his language around his sister.

“Then it's up to you, hon,” Dare said to Alani. “Did you notice anything off, anything different, when you went to his place?”

Alani licked her lips. “Actually, I did.” She cast a furtive glance at Jackson.

“He acted different? Drugged?” Trace asked. “And you still slept with him?”

She glared at her brother. “No. That is, other than seeming somehow…more sincere—”

“I was ever insincere?” Jackson asked her.

“Will you all stop interrupting?”

Dare encouraged her, saying, “Go on, Alani.”

With an effort, she gathered herself. “Jackson mostly seemed the same as always. Cocky, flirting, trying to charm the pants off every woman.”

Trace said, “I don't need to hear this.”

“I don't mean
me.
” But then she added, a little abashed, “Well, yes—me, too—I guess.”

Jackson gave her another squeeze.

“But I was talking about his neighbor.”

Everyone spoke at once, with Dare asking, “What neighbor? A woman?” and Trace saying, “You saw him flirting with her and still you stayed?”

Jackson announced, “I don't flirt with my neighbors.”

Still on his lap, Alani raised a hand to quiet them all and then twisted to face Jackson. “I was going to tell you about this, but I wanted you to eat first.”

“He doesn't need to be babied,” Trace grumbled.

“You be quiet!”

Her outburst left Trace bemused—and silent.

Hoping to calm her, to be a contrast to Trace's animosity, which wasn't winning him any points with Alani, Jackson bit back his automatic rebellion against her concern. “He's right, honey. I keep telling you I'm fine.”

She turned back to Jackson. “You were really sick.”

“Yeah.” He pulled her closer to whisper, “Otherwise we'd still be in bed right now.”

Though he couldn't have heard, Dare said, “Knock it off, Jackson. You're wasting valuable time.”

Grim, Jackson said, “The only female neighbor I talk with much is Mrs. Guthrie, but she has to be sixty.”

Alani shook her head. “I assumed she was a neighbor because she was barefoot.”

The men all shared a look. If she'd been barefoot, maybe it was for the sake of stealth.

“But I didn't watch her leave,” Alani explained, “so I don't know where she went after she walked out your door. Maybe she wasn't a neighbor. Maybe she was a…a date.”

Unable to think of any woman he'd have invited to his apartment, Jackson said, “Describe her.”

Alani shrugged. “I'd say in her early thirties.”

“No.”

She frowned. “Being thirty removes her from your radar?”

Not since meeting Alani had he gotten overly involved with anyone. He took care of business and ended it there. Period.

He did not invite any woman into his home.

No way in hell would he admit that to Alani, though, much less in front of Trace and Dare. “I'm just saying I'm not seeing any women in their thirties.”

“Short brown hair.”

“How short?”

Her face pinched with annoyance. “Pixie cut.”

He shook his head—and lifted a long hank of Alani's silky fair hair to admire it. It was straighter and paler and a whole lot softer than his own. “Nope.”

Alani refused to be diverted. “Dresses like a hooker?”

“In her thirties? No.” There had been that one broad… No. That was ages ago and couldn't even be called a one-night stand. Maybe an hour-long stand… He snorted. “Doesn't ring a bell.”

“And I suppose you know every woman who lives near enough to drop in?”

“Didn't say that.” But, like any other red-blooded male, he'd noted the more attractive ladies. “Hell, if any of my neighbors were good-looking, and if I wasn't expending all my energy chasing you, I still wouldn't go that route.”

Dare nodded. “Too close for comfort.”

“Exactly.”

Alani frowned. “I don't understand.”

“Complications,” Trace explained as he paced.

Suspicion narrowed her eyes. “What kind of complications?”

“The kind where, after the sex is done and the interest gone, you're stuck with an annoyed woman in close proximity to where you live.”

Slowly, taut with judgment, Alani swiveled around with a dark frown aimed at Jackson.

He said, “Uh…” Trace wasn't wrong, but he didn't have to spell it out to her like that.

“Doesn't matter now.” Trace saved him by slashing
his hand through the air. “Does she sound like anyone you've been with?”

Jackson shook his head. “Nope.”

To Alani, Trace asked, “Did you speak to her?”

“Well…yes.” With renewed annoyance, Alani glared at Jackson again. “She answered your door for you.”

Jackson's brows shot up. “Where the hell was I?”

“On the couch.” She poked him in the chest. “You were all lounged back, comfortable, your feet up on the coffee table. I was ready to leave since you appeared otherwise involved, but then you got up when you saw it was me at the door, and the woman said she had to go anyway, and…”

“Jesus, Alani.”

“Don't use that tone with me.” She turned her cannon on her brother again. “Did Jackson do anything you haven't done?”

“He was with another woman!”

She started to bolt off Jackson's lap, but when he held on to her hips, she subsided, too anxious to fight her brother to quibble over her position. “So? We didn't have any kind of understanding—”

“We do now,” Jackson announced, just in case she'd missed that important fact.

“—and he said he was thrilled to see me.”

Whoa. On a gut level, Jackson rejected that wording. “Thrilled?” Sure, he might have been thrilled, but would he really have been that obvious?

Dare grinned, shook his head and repeated, “Thrilled,” with clear mockery.

“And that's all it took?” Trace asked.

She strangled on a deep inhale. “Are you calling me easy?”

“No!” Now Trace looked appalled. “Don't put words in my mouth.”

“Jackson's sincerity was enough for me to stay. And then…well…”

They all waited.

“Oh, forget it!” And this time she got away from Jackson. “It happened, okay? Get over it so we can concentrate on the fact that he was
drugged.
”

“No one is forgetting that, hon.”

She glared at Dare. “We need to know who she is.”

“And if she worked alone,” Jackson said.

“Doesn't seem likely.” Silently fuming, Trace stepped up close to frown down at Alani. “What about your financier?”

Oh, hell. Jackson had forgotten all about Marc Tobin. Sitting forward, he stated, “That's over.” Or at least it better be.

At the same time, Alani said, “I broke things off with him.”

Tension washed out of Jackson's shoulders, leaving him with a certain sort of contentment. The persistent throbbing in his temples faded.

Trace looked from Alani to Jackson and back again. “Since when?”

“A little more than a week ago.”

A whole week? And she hadn't come to him right away? Damn, had she been grieving over the breakup?

“Did you give him a reason?” Dare wanted to know.

“None of your business.”

Trace brought her chin back around. “Sorry, sweetheart. Maybe you don't know how this works, but under the circumstances, we need to hear everything. It's the only way we can really analyze the potential danger.”

“You actually think Marc could be involved?”

“He'd have reason to be furious with Jackson—or with you.”

Surprise held her silent for a heartbeat before she scoffed. “You think
I'm
in danger? That's absurd. Jackson is the one who was drugged.”

Unable to hide his smirk, Trace said, “Getting all the facts is the only way we can protect Jackson, too.”

Oh, now, that burned his ass. “I don't need—”

Before Jackson could finish protesting, Alani faltered. “But…Marc wouldn't have had anything to do with—”

“Jackson getting doped? Probably not, so don't get alarmed. But I want you to tell me everything anyway.”

Jackson noticed so many things—the way her lips trembled, the new tautness in her shoulders, her pallor and shallow breaths.

“Trace,” he said low. “Back off, will you?” Sure, she needed to be sheltered, but scaring her wouldn't accomplish anything.

Trace narrowed his eyes and cupped Alani's shoulder. “Nothing's going to happen to you, honey. This is just a precaution.”

She swallowed hard and averted her gaze from one and all. “I told him I was thinking of seeing…someone else.”

Dare put his elbows on his knees. “You mentioned Jackson to him?”

“No, of course not.” She shook her head. “That would have been needlessly rude.”

Since Alani was the epitome of graciousness, Trace accepted that explanation. “Did anyone know you were coming to see Jackson yesterday?”

“Jackson knew.”

Doing a double take, Jackson asked, “I did?”

“I called you.” Her sad smile came and went. “But I
suppose you've forgotten that, too. I called you before leaving work.”

“Anyone overhear that call?” Dare asked.

“I was in my office, so I doubt it.” And then, head high and shoulders back, she turned to leave the room. “I'm going to put on coffee.”

“Alani…” Knowing the idea of danger had shaken her, Jackson started to stand.

“No.” She stopped him by raising an imperious hand. She pointed a finger at the food she'd brought him and gave a succinct order.
“Eat.”

No one
gave him orders.

Jackson considered her. She'd left her rich boyfriend in the dust. She'd freely defended him to her brother.

She'd slept with him, whether he remembered it or not.

Overall, he was pretty damn happy with her, so he gave her a salute. “Yes, darlin'. Whatever you say.”

I
N THE KITCHEN,
Alani turned on the radio. Loud.

Accommodating them? Or tuning them out?

Didn't matter. Jackson sat forward. “Let me blow this up your skirt— I've met the bastard.”

Dare raised a brow. “Her boyfriend?”

“Her
ex
-boyfriend. And yeah. He knows me, knows my face and first name.”

“How the hell did that happen?”

Jackson flagged a hand. “I was chasing her, nothing new in that.”

Trace snarled. “And you met him?”

“Yeah. Unless he's dumber than I think, he felt the chemistry between Alani and me.” Jackson challenged Trace. “It's there and you know it.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Trace turned to Dare. “Jackson's been dogging her heels for a while now.”

Dare looked between them. “You knew about this?”

“Yeah.” Letting out a breath, Trace rubbed the back of his neck. “I knew.”

“Wasn't a secret,” Jackson said. “I told him. But shit's different now.”

Deadpan, Dare asked, “You think so?”

Everyone kept their voices low.

“Hell, I was just hoping to get her to redo my place for me so I could get closer to her.” Jackson ignored Dare's raised brows and Trace's annoyance. “But that didn't
work out, and I figured I was back to square one, and now—”

Trace cut him off. “Jackson was keeping tabs on her, too.”

That sounded bad, so Jackson explained. “With what she's been through, I didn't want the financier to do anything to make her uncomfortable.”

“Like chase her?” Dare asked.

The taunt put Jackson on edge. “Like pressuring her. And you can bet he did.” Could the financier have pressured her more than Jackson had just minutes ago? Shit.

“Why do you assume so?” Dare asked.

“Look at her!” This time Jackson thrust his hand toward the kitchen where, hopefully, Alani couldn't hear them. “She's so smokin' hot, most guys wouldn't be able to help themselves.”

Dare choked. “She's the smaller, more female version of Trace.”

What an appalling thought. “Not even close,” Jackson denied. “You see her like a kid sister, same as Trace does.” Sure, they had the same coloring of pale hair and bright hazel eyes. That combo might be noticeable on Trace, but on Alani it was outright striking, fascinating every guy who met her. “I see her differently.”

Trace rolled his eyes. “But still you're noble enough to give her space?”

“Uh…” He'd thought so. When she'd hesitated to be alone with him, shying away from his interest, he'd walked away rather than torture himself. But this morning he
had
awakened with her naked. And since then, knowing she'd wanted him enough to sleep with him, he'd been on the make big-time.

Trace and Dare waited.

Disgust at his heavy-handed tactics hit Jackson like a ton of bricks. “Butt out, damn it.”

“I should just kill you now and be done with it,” Trace grumbled.

Jackson ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, maybe.”

Dare coughed at that admission. “You trust him, Trace, and you know it.”

“With my back,” Trace snapped. “Not with my sister.”

Shaking his head at them both, Dare said, “Tell me about the meeting you had with the financier.”

“His name is Marc Tobin,” Trace said.

Jackson curled his lip. Even the guy's name annoyed him. “I dropped in on her, but she was due for a date with the idiot, and I didn't bow out in time.”

“Probably on purpose,” Trace accused.

Jackson shrugged. So he'd lingered. So what? “He showed up, and you know Alani. Always so polite.”

Dare choked. “She introduced the two of you?”

To Jackson's mind, Dare's humor was sadly misplaced. He gave one sharp nod. “Yeah.”

“Did you act like an ass?” Trace asked.

“You mean did I pulverize him? Nah.” But he'd wanted to. “I'm sure I mean-mugged him a little. He's just so…slick, it was hard not to, you know?”

It surprised Jackson when Trace agreed. “Slick, and too rich.”

“You're rich,” Jackson reminded him.

Dare reached over to slug him in the shoulder. “Take what you can get, will you?”

He had planned to take Alani—again and again. But now…did she need extended time? Lots of space? God, he hoped not.

He peered into the kitchen and saw her stacking
mugs on a tray. His guts twisted. Yeah, he had it bad. No other woman had ever made him feel this way. He didn't like it.

Having her would be the only cure. Or rather…having her again so he could commit the experience to memory.

“What now?” Ensuring Dare and Trace didn't misunderstand the situation, Jackson added, “She can't be alone.”

“I agree.” Dare rubbed his chin. “You did a background check on Tobin?”

“From the get-go.” Trace leaned up against the wall. “Decent enough person, I guess. Privileged, but no criminal record beyond a few speeding tickets.”

Jackson didn't like that assessment. “Every investment he makes turns to gold. I don't trust him.”

“She left him,” Dare reminded Jackson. And then, “But if he assumes he was dumped for you, then that could be motive enough for us to do a little more digging.”

“It makes as much sense as anything.” Besides, with nothing else to go on, Jackson wanted Tobin to be responsible. It'd be a quick and easy solution, and it'd permanently remove the competition.

“You think he sent a woman after Jackson, had her drug him…for what reason? To get him in bed so that Alani would walk away?” Trace gave Jackson a verbal kick, saying, “Hell, he always screws everything in sight, and still she went to him.”

Jackson stewed. “Wrong.” He was no more active than any other healthy adult. And since meeting Alani…well, he hadn't been all that
healthy,
no matter how a woman looked or how willing she might be.

He wanted Alani.

He'd had her, damn it, and from what she'd said, it was as mind-blowing as he'd always known it would be.

“You know how it is, Trace.” Dare ignored Jackson's denial. “That just makes him more appealing to some women.”

“Maybe.” Trace gave Jackson an evil grin. “But not to Alani.”

Knowing Trace might be right, Jackson picked up the sandwich and took a healthy bite. She wanted him to eat, so he'd eat.

Done tweaking him, Trace paced. “Doesn't matter now anyway. Whoever drugged him likely saw Alani at his place.”

“So she's in the thick of it,” Dare agreed, “no matter how we look at it.”

Around the mouthful of food, Jackson said, “I don't want to scare her, especially since odds are she's in the clear.” He swallowed, a plan forming in his mind. “If she lets me stick close, then there's no reason her life has to be more disrupted than it already has been.”

“You can watch her up close,” Dare said, “while Trace and I start investigating things from the outside.”

“And that being the case, you should have called us right away.” Trace's temper shot up again. “Christ, was she left alone at any point today?”

Jackson winced. “All morning.” Alone, saddened—and vulnerable. There really wasn't a good excuse for slipping up, not with Alani's safety on the line. “Thanks to the drugs, I wasn't thinking clearly at first. All I knew was that I'd missed out on—” he looked at Trace's set face and censored his words “—some important stuff. Soon as I could, I got ready and came here. Right about the time my head cleared enough for me to realize all the implications, she showed back up.”

“And still you didn't get hold of us?”

“Yeah, about that…” Jackson hedged a little. “I was going to—right after I smoothed things out with Alani.”

That got Trace's attention anew. “What's there to smooth out?”

Another peek in the kitchen showed Alani standing in front of the sink, her arms around her middle as she stared out the window.

As if she felt his stare, she glanced over her shoulder. Their gazes locked, and for him, it felt like a physical connection. Even from a distance, he saw her breathing deepen, her cheeks flush, the slight part of her lush lips, so maybe it felt the same for her.

Jackson's eyes narrowed—and Alani turned away to fetch the now full coffee carafe.

A deep breath didn't really help. She rattled him when nothing else did.

“Okay, look.” Jackson squared off with both men. “Under normal circumstances, I would never discuss this with anyone, not even you two.”

Discussing it with them now didn't feel right, either, but with Alani's safety potentially at risk, they had to know it all. Trace was right about that.

“I told you that I woke with a splitting headache, that I spent the first hour in the bathroom puking up my guts.”

They waited.

“Yeah, well…” Never, not even if he lived to be a hundred, would Jackson forget that awesome moment when he found her curled comfortably in bed beside him, just as he'd never forget the devastation on her face right before she walked out. “You know as well as I do that Alani's been sheltered. Not sure what she was expecting,
but it wasn't what she got. She…sort of misunderstood everything.”

Confusion brought together Dare's brows. “You explained to her what happened?”

“Not then, no. Hell, I didn't know what had happened.” Giving himself a second to organize his thoughts, Jackson took a big drink of the cola. He could use the caffeine kick. “The thing is, my head felt like it had cracked open, and Alani was there, naked.” He filled his lungs again, but the tightness in his chest remained. “Those two things together threw me pretty hard. I didn't know which way was up, but I didn't need my brains intact to know I'd probably slept with her. I just didn't know what to do about it.”

Trace stared up at the ceiling.

“Stop it, will you?” Dare shoved him. “She's a grown woman.”

Jackson nodded. Alani was young but still mature. The perfect mix of naiveté and ripe sensuality. Independent and yet so incredibly sweet…

Problem was, Trace had been playing protector too long. His attention zeroed in on Jackson. “I don't know if I want you seeing her.”

In clear warning, Jackson said, “Stay out of it, Trace.” No way in hell would he let him get in his way on this.

Trace took a stance and smiled silkily. “Or what?”

“Or you'll deal with me.” Alani marched back into the room with a tray of coffee that she set on the table. She appeared resolute and too contained.

Jackson started to stand, but with one hand on his chest, Alani shoved him back to his seat. Surprise kept him from reacting.

Hands on her hips, she faced her brother. “I'll see him if I want to.”

Jackson met Trace's furious gaze—and shrugged. Guess that was settled. Her attitude would make protecting her a lot easier, and it would afford him a lot more opportunities to work through the morass of his feelings.

Dare shook his head. “Stop looking so satisfied, Jackson, or he just might kill you.”

“No,” Alani said as she sat beside Jackson. “He won't.”

Though Trace's left eye twitched again, he didn't lurch toward Jackson. Trace was far too controlled for any lurching. If he wanted to attack Jackson, he would do so swiftly, without warning.

But Jackson wasn't worried about it. Trace might bluster, but he wanted the best for Alani, and right now, that meant having someone capable watching over her 24/7 until they sorted out what had happened.

It couldn't be Trace or Dare. Not only were they both now married, but their constant presence would only alarm Alani more. There'd be no explaining it to her without telling her how risky the situation could be.

So Jackson got dibs, and that suited him just fine.

Trace ran a hand through his hair. “Alani, seriously… Are you sure about this?”

Far too solemn, she eyed her brother and Dare. “I'd appreciate it if you two would drink your coffee and then go so that Jackson and I can talk.”

Her announcement hit them each in a different way.

Not about to budge, Trace snorted.

Dare merely said, “No can do, hon.”

And Jackson put his arm around her. “We gotta make plans first.”

“I have a plan.” Spine straight, shoulders stiff, she shrugged off his touch. “I'm going to finish discussing
this with you, then you will leave so that I can take a long shower and go to bed early.”

Jackson opened his mouth, and she said with emphasis,
“Alone.”

Damn. She sounded cold and distant. Had she overheard them talking? They'd kept their voices low, but in her small house, even with the radio blaring from the kitchen, she might have picked up a word or two. Well, she'd just have to deal with it. But to be sure, Jackson asked, “What's wrong?”

Not only did Alani give him an incredulous look, so did Dare and Trace.

At the end of his rope, Jackson stood and took her hand. “Be right back.” He started tugging Alani toward the kitchen.

She held back. “Jackson.”

On the ragged edge, he leaned down to nearly touch his nose to hers. “Here or in private, woman. Make up your mind.”

Trace took a step forward—and that decided her. She said to her brother and Dare, “Drink your coffee! We won't be long.”

And then it was Alani leading the way.

Once in the kitchen, Jackson stepped around the wall with her for a smidge of privacy. He caged her in with his forearms on the wall at either side of her head.

Staring up at him, she looked small and fragile and very appealing.

He had to taste her.

Murmuring, “I missed you,” he kissed her bottom lip, her upper lip, and then he settled in for a soft but deep mating of their mouths.