Kitabı oku: «Savor the Danger»

Praise for New York Times and USA TODAY
bestselling author
LORI FOSTER

“Foster writes smart, sexy, engaging characters.”

—New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan

“Known for her funny, sexy writing.”

—Booklist

“Foster’s latest is pure entertainment and a joy to read.”

—RT Book Reviews on Back in Black

“Foster outwrites most of her peers.”

—Library Journal

“Intense, edgy and hot. Lori Foster delivers

everything you’re looking for in a romance.”

—New York Times bestselling author Jayne Ann Krentz

on Hard to Handle

“Lori Foster delivers the goods.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Tension, temptation, hot action

and hotter romance—Lori Foster has it all!

Hard to Handle is a knockout!”

—New York Times bestselling author Elizabeth Lowell

Dear Reader,

I’m pleased to give you Savor the Danger, book three of my new series of über-alpha hunks featuring private mercenaries who are big, capable, a little dangerous and (I hope) oh-so-sexy. If you read the first two books, When You Dare and Trace of Fever, then you already know why I call them my men who “walk the edge of honor.”

Please note—each of the three books is a stand-alone, so they do not need to be read in order. You will meet characters from the previous books, but the relationships are briefly explained so that the books are independent. My novella in the anthology The Guy Next Door got things started by introducing you to characters related to the heroine of When You Dare.

To see more about the books, including how they’re related and more on the characters, visit my website at www.LoriFoster.com and feel free to chat with me on my Facebook fan page—www.facebook.com/pages/Lori-Foster/233405457965.

I’m very excited about these books, so I hope you enjoy them! Do let me know. My email is on my website.

Savor the Danger
Lori Foster

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To the Animal Adoption Foundation,

a no-kill animal shelter in Hamilton, Ohio.

Continued gratitude to the shelter for the remarkable

work you do for animals. Gremlin (brother to Liger,

featured in Trace of Fever) is one of the cats that

my son adopted from you. Gremlin has a quirky

personality, a smoker’s meow and a purr that will

melt your heart. Thank you for “rescuing” him

so that we could make him a part of our family.

The AAF will always be one of my “pet projects”

whenever I do fundraising.

To learn more, visit www.AAFPETS.com.

SAVOR THE DANGER

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER ONE

WAKEFULNESS BROUGHT a crescendo beat of pain piercing his brain. He tried to swallow, but the desert at high noon couldn’t be as dry as his mouth.

What the hell was going on?

Disoriented, in agony, Jackson Savor got one eye open.

The source of his sharpest pain was a blinding ray of Kentucky’s morning sunshine slicing through the part in his bedroom curtains.

His curtains. So he was in his own apartment.

With one question answered, he closed his eye again and struggled to take inventory.

Had he been captured? Tortured?

Slowly, very slowly, he moved his right hand. His arm felt like lead, but he lifted it.

Sluggish, a little weak, but not bound, thank God.

He tried to move his left hand and realized that something warm and soft kept him pinned in place. He inhaled…and recognized the enticing, undeniable scent of woman.

Oh, shit.

Staying very still to avoid alerting anyone to his cognizance, Jackson opened his hand and…felt.

He didn’t need a clear head or his vision to know he palmed a very sweet female backside.

Huh.

The body beside him stirred. A slim, smooth leg came over his, gliding up and over his crotch. Inside he jolted, but outside he stayed perfectly still.

A woman purred, “You’re awake?”

Both eyes shot open with recognition. He snapped his head around so fast that pain nearly blinded him.

The knee resting over his dick shifted as the woman readjusted to better see him. “Is something wrong?” Shit, shit, shit. Carefully, his eyelids scraping like sandpaper, Jackson peered to his side and found none other than Alani Rivers. Sleepy, warm, soft. She watched him with sated, golden brown eyes, her pale hair spread out around her—on his pillows.

She had the unmistakable look of a woman who’d spent a satisfying night doing the nasty. With him?

Though no words came from his parched throat, the hand on her ass contracted. Yeah, so his brain wasn’t quite working—his instincts were fine and dandy.

Blushing, Alani ducked her face and rose up to an elbow.

The sheet pulled to her waist, giving him an up close and personal view of her really beautiful breasts and rosy nipples.

His thoughts cramped. So did his balls.

“So quiet this morning,” she murmured as she bent and kissed his mouth. “Especially after last night.” Meaning…what? Had they been noisy? Had he been chatty?

She chewed her bottom lip. “Are you feeling as shy as I am about the things we did?” Shy? Never. What the hell had they done? He tried to sort it out, but beyond the pain and the confusion was the mind-boggling fact that he had Alani Rivers in his bed.

Naked.

Affectionate.

Replete.

And he didn’t know how any of it had happened.

Acid crawled around his guts and squirreled up his throat, making his stomach pitch. Groaning, he threw back the covers.

Didn’t matter if his head fell off, he would not puke in front of her.

In only a few long strides, he made it to the connecting bathroom where he dropped to his knees in front of the john in just the nick of time.

He felt vile. Worse than that even.

What the hell had happened?

“Jackson?”

He looked up to see Alani in the doorway. Naked.

He groaned again. “Go away.”

“But…can I get you—”

“Out!” He kicked at the door. It hit so hard that it bounced open again. He saw her shock and hurt, but damn it, no way in hell did he want her to see him like this.

Luckily for them both, she turned and strode away.

When the nausea finally subsided, he flushed the toilet and, feeling weaker than a newborn, used the edge of the sink to haul himself to his feet. His legs shook. His head thundered.

He turned on cold water, splashed his face, rinsed his mouth, and after a few seconds of mental searching that left him blank, he turned to stagger out.

Alani stood there yet again.

Still naked.

Jackson swayed. He tried, but he couldn’t take it in. For a hell of a long time, he’d wanted her. Now she was here, but…how? Why?

His burning gaze zeroed in on her neat triangle of golden brown pubic hair. Another question answered—but it had nada to do with his current predicament.

She folded her arms under her breasts, which had the effect of getting his riveted attention off her lower body and up a little—as far as her chest anyway.

Ah, damn, so pretty. Had he touched her breasts? Kissed her nipples?

Dizziness assailed him. The possibility of passing out or puking more loomed near.

But God Almighty, she looked fine. Better than fine.

She looked like his.

Face red, voice high, she snapped, “Real nice, Jackson.”

Picking up on the acrimony, he managed to meet her gaze through a fog of emotions. Uh-oh. She looked both hurt and pissed.

Her lips tightened. She gave one fleeting glance at his body, but when he remained mute, her eyes narrowed and she tossed her head, sending back her long fair hair. Like pale liquid, it poured over her smooth skin, mostly behind her shoulders, though one long strand trailed over her breast.

Mesmerized, he took a moment to realize she was talking to him. “I told you this wasn’t a good idea,” she said. “I told you it would never work.”

Looked to him like it had worked just fine.

But to make sure they were on the same page, he rasped, “It?” Bracing one hand on the door frame, the other squeezing the bridge of his nose, he started on a great admission. “Thing is, I don’t remember—”

“Talking about it?”

Anything. “Uh…”

“Big surprise there, right?” Her attention tracked down over him, then jumped back to his face. “You were too busy getting me naked to listen to reason.”

Sounded like him, he had to admit.

“Too busy racing for the bed,” she complained, “to even think about my concerns, about what I said.”

The words resonated over and over. He’d gotten her naked and in bed.

And then what?

Nothing rational came to his spinning brain, so Jackson just shook his head while again looking at her body. If it wasn’t for the door frame supporting him, he’d be on his face on the floor, but he couldn’t not look at her.

Wounded, disgusted, Alani turned on her heel and stalked back to his bed. Seeing the bounce of her rounded backside gave him a whole new reason to wish his vision wasn’t so blurry.

“Alani…” With no idea what to say, Jackson started to follow her. One jarring step was enough to warn him not to leave the dubious convenience of the bathroom.

His stomach did jumping jacks. In the nick of time he dropped back down in front of the toilet again.

This time when he finished, his stomach muscles ached but his guts felt a little quieter, as if he’d gotten some foul poison out of his system.

Unfortunately, Alani was now fully dressed and marching toward the front door.

Feeling like a weak, mewling pup, he stumbled behind her. “Wait.”

Pausing, she looked back at him—and all over him.

It suddenly dawned on Jackson that he was completely naked, too. He held on to the wall and willed away the pulsing agony in his noggin. “Let’s…talk.”

“So you can get sick again with…regret? No thank you.”

Regret? There was more to regret beyond the fact that he couldn’t remember shitola?

She jerked his front door open but didn’t storm away. With her back to him, her voice quavering, she said, “Don’t worry about it, Jackson. I’m naive, I know, but I’m not dumb. I understand what happened.”

“What?”

“I won’t say a word to anyone and since this will never happen again, you can just forget all about it.”

The slamming of the door almost took out his knees. Slowly, he sank down to the cool hardwood floor in his hallway. His eyes closed, but he could still see Alani naked.

He didn’t want to forget a damn thing.

He wanted to remember.

ALANI STAYED BUSY as long as she could. She’d shopped, cleaned her car, had a light breakfast, seen an early matinee…but no amount of distraction had helped. Her chest still hurt with the weight of thick emotion.

Humiliation vied with regret.

Why had she believed him?

Why had she allowed herself to be so easily swayed?

Fool!

What could have been the most amazing night of her life now felt like the most degrading. Not that she could blame Jackson for everything. She’d been so infatuated with him for so long, it had required very little from him to win her over. A few small words and…

The groan vibrated out, heartfelt, sad and angry.

She’d done things with Jackson that she’d never before considered. He’d encouraged her to speak her mind, to be totally open and honest about what she wanted, what she enjoyed—and he’d done the same. With him, she’d reveled in her sexuality.

And then, with the morning light, he’d taken one look at her and rushed off to be ill.

Her face flamed.

All along, from the very first day she’d met Jackson Savor, she’d known he was trouble. Over and over again she’d resisted him because an involvement with any man who worked with her brother, especially a man too much like her brother, seemed impossible.

Her cell phone rang, and she glanced at the caller ID. Speak of the devil… Her brother had already called several times, but she wasn’t up to speaking with him.

She waited until the ringing stopped, then checked her voice mail. Trace said, “Where are you, Alani? I’ve called three times now. I want to talk to you. Call me back.”

She knew Trace fully expected her to do as told, but she couldn’t talk to him right now. If she tried to, she’d get emotional, maybe even weepy. God knew Trace had always been protective, but since her kidnapping more than a year ago, he’d been insane with caution. If he knew she was upset, he’d be on the warpath in minutes. She had no intention of telling him about her misguided—and obviously brief—liaison with Jackson, so there’d be no point in getting him caught up in her personal drama.

By necessity, given the responsibilities inherent in his work, Trace was autocratic by nature, occasionally over-bearing and always too confident.

Jackson was the same.

Actually, so was Trace’s friend, Dare, who had worked with Trace from the inception of the business.

They had typical personalities for lethally honed mercenaries—how else could they remain so successful in their efforts to help others?

Of course, Trace, Dare and Jackson were the only mercenaries she knew. And while each of them was different, they were also, in the most basic ways, the same.

They were men who smiled while squaring off with danger, men who didn’t flinch when put to the test, men who, without a single second of hesitation, would protect others with their own lives.

They were good men.

They were scary men.

Most people, even without knowing of her brother’s vocation, still feared him, and with good reason; Trace emanated danger and capability. To meet him was to be wary of him, and so dating had never been easy for her. Guys took one look at her brother and decided it was safer to keep their distance.

But…Jackson wasn’t like most guys. Because he was on a par with Trace, not much ever intimidated him. In fact, he felt at ease jesting with Trace, even taunting him on occasion with his good humor. Knowing Trace and Dare counted on him in the most dangerous situations, Jackson had promised her that his job security wouldn’t be affected by their involvement.

But then, he’d also sworn that it wouldn’t be awkward. Now she was on her own, and it was so excruciatingly awkward that her face continued to burn.

Unfortunately, Trace called yet again as she parked in the driveway. The phone rang four times and then went to voice mail. Alani just knew Trace would show up on her doorstep if she didn’t touch base.

Hating to fib, but feeling she had no choice, she sent back a text message saying only, “I’m at the movies. I’ll call you soon.”

Then she turned off the phone.

After gathering the clothing bags from her trunk, she started around the walkway that led from the driveway on the side of her small but perfect house to the front door.

She drew up short at the sight of Jackson sprawled out on her porch steps, a cowboy hat on his head, mirrored sunglasses hiding his eyes.

He didn’t move, and neither did she.

For half a minute she stood there frozen, unsure what to say, what to do.

He had an utterly relaxed look about him, but then, Jackson had perfected a deceptively indolent pose that hid razor-sharp reflexes and phenomenal speed. Last night, all night, he’d been far from indolent.

Breathing fast, Alani studied him. His continued stillness suggested sleep. Even when she shifted her bags and inched closer, he didn’t move.

The tall oak in her front yard offered plenty of shade, but Jackson hadn’t removed the hat or the sunglasses. He was now clean-shaven. A snowy white T-shirt pulled across his wide chest and shoulders and hung looser around his taut abs.

Age had worn out his faded jeans in select places, such as at the knees, the hems and where they cupped his sex.

Even now, so tranquil, he looked…impressive.

The bombardment of awareness stiffened her knees.

Memories of touching his body, tasting his hot flesh, sent a tide of sensation through her veins. She remembered wrapping her hand around his erection, how he’d groaned all deep and rough, the insanely sexual things he’d whispered to her as suggestions and encouragement, how he’d covered her hand with his own, showing her how hard to squeeze, how fast to stroke….

His total lack of inhibition had left her free to be less inhibited.

She swallowed audibly—and stared some more.

He sat with his long legs loose, one foot braced on a step, the other stretched out, his elbows back, his breathing deep and even.

Alani licked her lips and started to slowly, silently retreat.

“Don’t make me chase you, darlin’.”

Shock snapped her shoulders back. The big faker!

He’d been watching her watch him… Ohhhhh. “I thought you were asleep!”

“And so you figured you could rape me with your pretty eyes? Or will you deny that?”

If she had a rock close by, she’d throw it at him. Teeth set, Alani asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Whatever it takes.” Lazily, he sat upright. Muscles flexed. His shirt pulled tight. With a thumb, he tipped back his hat. Sweat dampened his temples, leaving the ends of his dark blond hair curly. “Where you been anyway? I’ve been baking out here for hours.”

Something in his tone sounded…off. He was just as outrageous as always, but the cocky edge had waned, almost as if he was sick or worried, or both. She didn’t care.

“It’s none of your business, Jackson.”

The barely perceptible curling of his mouth alarmed her. “Full of spice this afternoon, huh?”

Determined to brazen her way through things, Alani put back her shoulders and charged forward. “I’m full of disgust.”

His mouth firmed. “At what we…did?”

Uncertainty didn’t suit him at all. “At myself, actually.” Breath held, she stepped around Jackson, but he didn’t touch her. At the front door she shifted the bags into one arm and, with fumbling hands, fished her keys from her purse. “I should have known better than to—”

His mouth skimmed the back of her neck. Low, sultry, he suggested, “Let’s talk about what we did.”

Fire raced down her spine, and her legs turned to noodles. In an instant, Alani’s mind took her back to his bed where he’d kissed her nape just like that while he slowly took her—doggy-style, he’d called it—from behind, burying himself deep, his arms around her, his hands holding her breasts….

“Stop it!” She shoved the door open and tried to slam it closed again. It bounced off Jackson’s shoulder.

She raced in.

Of course he followed.

Making a beeline for her kitchen, she said with as much venom as she could manage given the fluttering of her stomach, “Get out.”

Not more than two steps behind her, his boot heels sounded on her tile floor.

Her packages held in front of her like a shield, Alani spun around to face him. She sounded far too panicked when she screeched, “I mean it, Jackson!”

He stopped and stared at her. Tension crackled between them.

For a few seconds there, Jackson looked as if he might leap on her, but instead, he chewed his bottom lip, then retreated a step, moving as if not to startle her.

Cajoling, he said, “Take it easy, okay?”

Given the riot of emotions clamoring inside her, taking it easy wasn’t an option. “Don’t placate me!”

Without a word, he set his hat on the counter and tipped his head. Fists low on his lean hips, expression enigmatic, he studied her, all of her. Suddenly her casual, comfy sundress felt insubstantial. Around Jackson, she needed a damn suit of armor.

The concentrated scrutiny left her fidgeting, too warm and vulnerable.

In a rough whisper, he said, “God’s truth, darlin’, I don’t mean to ride roughshod over your feelings, but I need to see you again.” And before she could react to the hunger in his tone, he added, “I don’t suppose we could put this little confrontation on hold long enough for me to appease my curiosity?”

Curiosity? He’d already seen her in great detail throughout the long night. He hadn’t been shy about looking, either.

Where Trace and Dare treated her with kid gloves, Jackson just treated her like a woman he wanted. It was sort of nice in small doses…when he didn’t go overboard.

In light of all that had transpired, his outrageous suggestion was way over the line. Alani threw the clothing bags at him.

The packages landed against his chest and then hit the floor.

He barely flinched at the assault. “I take that as a no?”

“No!”

He cocked a brow at her outburst and then caught her as she tried to shove around him. He was so big and so solidly muscular, it proved too easy for him to wrap her up in his arms and lock her in close, her back against his chest, his forearms under her breasts. “Shh, baby. Don’t.”

Those sultry memories, along with his heat and scent and sex appeal, enveloped her as surely as his body did. Desperate, almost panicked, Alani demanded, “Let me go.”

She felt him flinch, wrapped tight around her. “Sorry, love. Can’t.”

Love. He would dare to use that word now? Her throat tightened in a panic. “Jackson—”

His breath moved past her ear as he whispered, “Give me just a sec, okay?”

She heard the pain in his words, and that calmed her struggle.

“Better,” he breathed and relaxed his hold.

Worry overtook outrage, and she tried to twist to see him. “What’s wrong?”

The tension intensified, and then he said, “I don’t remember a damned thing.”

“About what?”

He rocked her a little, and his voice lowered even more. “Everything. I’m…blank.”

She didn’t understand, but she picked up on his agony, so she stopped straining away from him. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know what happened, honey. With us, with anything.” He hugged her, his chin on the top of her head. “Yesterday is just…gone.”

Disbelieving, Alani jerked around to see him. Standing in the circle of his arms, her hands on his chest, she had to tip her head way back to see his face. “What do you mean, gone?”

Ill at ease, he shrugged. “All I remember is waking up with the king-daddy of all migraines, a wallop of confusion….” He shifted, drawing her closer to his body. His voice went hoarse. “And there you were, in the raw beside me.”

Her heart almost stopped. “But…” She shoved him back accusingly. “You told me you hadn’t been drinking.”

“Did I?” He ran a hand through his dark blond hair, then pulled off the sunglasses. “Because I don’t remember that, either. Hell, I don’t even remember talking to you.”

Immediately sidetracked, Alani strangled on a breath. “Oh my God, Jackson.” Never had she seen eyes so bloodshot. Sympathy welled up. “You look—”

“Like shit, I know. Feel like it, too, believe me.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezed his eyes shut a second, then snapped them open again. “We had sex?”

Good grief, he had a one-track mind. But then she’d found that out last night. She winced as she took in his expression. The whites of his eyes looked blood-red, making the green seem more vivid. But even miserable, his direct gaze managed to keep her snared. “You honestly expect me to believe you don’t remember?”

One large, warm hand hooked her nape, lifting her to her tiptoes so he could kiss her once, hard and fast. “I woke up with my vision dicked, my brain on fire and my guts brawling. And then I saw you, in bed, beside me.” He went gruff with arousal. “You looked so incredible, it’s a wonder that didn’t send me right over the edge.”

“But it did, remember?” She went nose to nose with him and prompted, “You threw up.”

Rather than retreat, he moved in until he surrounded her with his size and his determination. “Woman, there is no way you think you were the cause of that.”

She should have put space between them, but it felt so good being close to him again. It seemed that last night had left her addicted; all morning long, her body had mourned the loss of his scent, the heat of his touch. With less conviction than she intended, she asked, “No?”

“Hell, no.” Restless, his hands kneaded her back. “You looked so hot, I wish I’d taken a photo. I wish I had you painted on the ceiling. Looking at you buck-ass might revive me, and it’ll definitely give me wood, but it would never repulse me or—”

Flustered by his brazen language, Alani smashed her fingers over his mouth. “Just…stop.”

She felt his relieved smile.

And then she felt his tongue.

Quickly, she tucked her hand behind her. When his strong fingers wrapped around her wrist, keeping her in that vulnerable position, she realized her mistake.

“Let’s put it to the test.” He leaned in, his hot breath brushing her cheek, the top of her shoulder. “Let’s get you out of this little dress and we’ll see how I react.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

“I swear, darlin’, I might implode…” His mouth opened on her shoulder in a stirring love bite. “But I won’t be ill. Not even close.”

“Jackson, please.” She tried to retreat two steps—and he reluctantly released her. “I don’t understand any of this. You need to give me time to think.”

“Maybe you’d think better naked.” He touched the hem of her dress and murmured more to himself than to her, “It’d be pretty easy to get you out of this—”

Infuriated, she slapped his hand away and glared at him.

“Okay, okay.” Frowning, he gestured his subdued agreement. “Think away.”

How could he not remember anything? What he’d said, what he’d done… All the things she’d said and done, the things she sort of regretted now.

“How is this possible?”

“I don’t know.”

“So just like that,” she asked with skepticism, “you’ve lost the details of last night?”

“That’s about it.”

Humiliation hung with her, but knowing he had no memory of it alleviated a big part of the regret. She gave him a sideways look. “This is sort of convenient.”

He shook his head. “I hear the suspicious tone, babe, but I’m not firing on all cylinders today, so you’ll have to spell it out for me. No way in hell does any of this seem convenient to me.”

Could he be telling the truth rather than dodging responsibility for his actions of last night? Maybe. After all, she’d left him with no obligation, and she’d promised not to tell anyone. He had no real reason to pretend he’d forgotten it all.

Thinking aloud, she said, “It’s just that it’s so unreal.” What would explain such a thing?

“Tell me about it.” Gaze hot and far too intense, he bent his knees to search her face. “Did I get inside you, sugar? I’m dying to know.”

Wide-eyed, Alani turned to give him her back. Jackson’s effect on her was enough that, even with so many unanswered questions, she wanted to rush him into the bedroom and do it all again. But that would be dumb. If she slept with him again, she wanted the time to talk and clear the air first.

Besides, he didn’t exactly look able to do all those awesomely amazing things again. But on the tail end of that thought, he stepped closer again and she felt a solid erection nudging her backside.

“Jackson!” Never in her life had she done so much screeching. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Suffering. You gotta tell me something here, Alani. Please.”

Frustrated, she snapped, “Can’t you turn it off for just a minute? We need to talk.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Red-eyed and a little shaky, he still sounded and looked on the make. It was there in his voice, the set of his hard shoulders, the probing way he watched her. “Since the day I laid eyes on you, I’ve wanted to get you out of your panties. You know it, because I wasn’t shy about it.”

“Certainly not.” He’d been overwhelmingly obvious.

“And now it seems like I finally did, but damn it all, I can’t remember it. Before you can expect me to concentrate on anything else, you gotta put me out of my misery.”

Her mouth pinched; she forced herself to face him again. “Okay, so maybe you don’t remember, but still you know.” He wasn’t an idiot. Waking up with her naked, wrapped around him, smiling like a satisfied sap, had to be a pretty good clue.

His gaze stroked over her features. “I’m assuming.” His interest settled on her mouth. “I’m hoping. But I need the details.” He caressed her shoulders. “Damn, woman, do I ever need the details.”

Yes, to some extent he probably did. That’d only be fair. But she’d be judicious. She’d tell him only the basics. All the rest, her overblown moans and begging, the things he’d done to her, the things she loved him doing…no way would she tell him any of that.

Not looking at him helped, but just a little. She swallowed and whispered, “You…we…”

“Had sex?”

Sex didn’t quite cover it, but she nodded and took a breath. “Yes.”

Muscled arms came around her once more, cuddling her close, his hold somehow pleased and possessive. “It was good?”

Could Jackson Savor be insecure about his performance? Actually, that’d make sense for anyone who couldn’t remember. She nodded.

He growled low, “Did you come?”

She tried to lurch away, but instead she found herself turned into him, her breasts against his chest, his heartbeat matching her own.

As if he already sensed the answer—and liked it—he got that seductive, lazy look about him. “Did you?”

Face hot, she nodded. “I…yes.”

Mouth curling the smallest bit, he whispered, “A wimpy little come, or a really smokin’ hot, screaming orgasm?”

Memories battered her, wearing her down until her mouth went dry. Rather than admit too much, she settled on saying, “Um…not wimpy.”

He expanded on a deeply indrawn breath. “Did I go down on you?”

Oh, lord. She felt it all again, that insane spiraling of pleasure, growing tighter and tighter, the touch of his cool hair and rough jaw on the insides of her thighs, his velvet tongue, the gentle bite of his teeth.

The tugging of his mouth as he sucked on her most sensitive flesh.

Her breath labored, and…she nodded.

Jackson’s muscles bunched, his nostrils flared. His voice going thick and hot, he asked, “Did you come then, too, darlin’? With my mouth on you?”

Her orgasm had been so incredible, she’d wept. But she couldn’t bring herself to be that explicit. She licked her lips and, in a mere breath of sound, admitted, “Yes.”

Putting his forehead to hers, Jackson groaned like a man in agony.

Alani touched his chest. Heat, strength, safety. He was all of that and so much more. But why couldn’t he remember? “Were you sick, Jackson? Is that why you can’t remember?” Looking at the morning in a new way, she realized he’d been seriously ill.

And she’d stormed out on him.

Flushed with shame, she cupped a hand around his neck. “Are you all right now?”

“All right? Hell, no. I’m tortured by what I can’t remember.” He covered her hand with his, lifted it to his mouth to kiss her palm. “After all that time of me wanting you so bad, and you turning me down flat, how the hell did I finally manage to win you over?”

CHAPTER TWO

IT WASN’T EASY for Alani to accept that he truly couldn’t recall a single detail. She’d suffered so much angst over her gullibility, over behavior that, for all intents and purposes, no longer mattered.

Except that she wanted to do it again.

Unwilling to expose her heart, she shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“C’mon, darlin’. Something swayed you.” He tried a strained half smile. “Help me out here.”

Because Jackson looked so agonized, she tried to give him the simplest of truths. “It doesn’t matter anymore, but it was the things you said as much as anything you did.”

“Yeah?” He brought up her chin, leaving her no choice but to look into his deep green eyes. “Like what?”

He kept touching her with an implied intimacy, stroking, nuzzling. She’d just spent hours coming to grips with the idea that she’d succumbed to a one-night stand, yet he acted as though they’d just begun a long affair.

She discounted everything he’d said last night, but still…did he want more?

If so, how much more?

He trailed his fingers over her cheek, around her neck, over her bare shoulder.

She shivered. Jackson might be sick from whatever had taken his memory, but he was still the quintessential primal male. Always.

At least…that’s how he always was with her.

Was he like that with every woman? Probably. Even Dare’s and Trace’s wives had noted Jackson’s good looks and sex appeal.

Shaking her head, Alani refused to think about it. “It was just…things you said. That’s all.” Things he’d promised, commitments he’d insinuated. “I guess it’s the stuff guys say to women when they want to talk them into bed.”

That made him frown. “Like what? Compliments? Big deal. When have I ever not complimented you?”

Sure, Jackson did a lot of sweet-talking—while on the make. “No, this was different.” This had felt more genuine, wrought from emotion and not just lust.

“How?” His attention drifted to her chest. “I bet I told you how damn sexy you are.”

Resisting an eye roll wasn’t easy. Later he had called her sexy, but at that point they’d already been on a heated path to lovemaking and she’d felt sexy.

She wasn’t sure she could pinpoint the moment that she’d known she would sleep with him, but that day he’d been different. Not more intense, because that wasn’t possible. Jackson was always intense.

But from the second she’d walked in the door, he’d looked at her, touched her and spoken to her differently.

He’d spoken from his heart—or so she’d thought.

Renewed embarrassment made her defensive. “Actually, you said I’m pretty.” And that was both sweeter and more touching than claiming her “hot” or “sexy.” Those sentiments had been expressed by the men who’d taken her, the men who’d manhandled her, restrained her, touched her, the men who’d planned to—

“Hey.” As if he sensed the direction of her thoughts, Jackson pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, the bridge of her nose. Sounding much as he had last night, he said, “You are pretty, Alani. So damn pretty.” His mouth brushed her ear. “All over.”

Face warm, she shook off the remnants of old emotion, fear and desolation from her kidnapping, discomfort from her naiveté last night.

“Thank you.” Dare had killed her kidnappers, and her brother now focused on destroying all human traffickers. She wasn’t with those men anymore. She was with Jackson, and he was about all she could handle right now. “You also said I was sweet.”

His burning gaze zeroed in on the notch of her thighs. “God, I bet you are.”

Her knees went shaky, so she pushed back from him. Hoping for a few calm moments to think, she said, “We have to figure this out, Jackson, so leash the lust.”

His chin went up as he stared down at her. “Woman, you ask the impossible.”

“Do it anyway!”

Sighing, lifting his hands from her as if in surrender, he stepped back. “This is me trying.”

Though the situation couldn’t be more skewed, he remained strong and capable. She envied him that. “What do you think happened? Did you drink?”

“Doubt it.” He shook his head. “I can’t remember, but I’m not much of a drinker.” And then with a shrug, “Never have been.”

She knew that about him. It was a control thing. Her brother and Dare…they disdained alcohol because it could throw off reflexes or perception, and they were all about control—of themselves and others. If Jackson imbibed much, they wouldn’t trust him.

She didn’t know the whole story of how Jackson came to join their team, but not long after she’d been recovered from Tijuana, they’d brought him on board. Obviously they trusted him, and that meant Alani could trust him, too—at least about this.

With anything more personal, like a romantic relationship, she just didn’t know.

He watched her every move. “I rummaged through my apartment, even the garbage, but I didn’t see any empty bottles. No sign of a drinking binge on my end.”

Suspicions crowded in, but for the moment, she pushed them aside. “Did you maybe fall and hit your head?”

That insulted him. “No.” He snorted. “Course not.”

“But you don’t remember, right? So how do you know?”

Roughly tousling his own hair, he said, “See? No bruises, no bumps.” He moved in again. “In fact, other than a few scratches that I’m hoping came from you, I don’t have any marks—no bruises or cuts or anything.”

“Scratches?”

His mouth quirked sensually. “On my shoulders. Small half moons right where a woman usually holds on tight when she’s—”

“So.” Interrupting seemed the safer course. “You probably weren’t involved in a scuffle, then.”

He shook his head. “Let’s talk about what might’ve happened…after.”

Would his possibilities mesh up with her suspicions? Likely. “After what?”

He pointed a finger at her. “Maybe you don’t understand how it is for me, how it’d be for any guy, but especially for me since I’ve been hot on your tail for a while now.”

The things he said, and how he said them, were both insulting and somehow…flattering. “Jackson…”

“To make sure there aren’t any misunderstandings, let me clue you in, okay? I’ve got a bad case for you.”

“Sexual chemistry. I know. You’ve told me.” Last night it had felt like more, but last night didn’t exist for him.

“Call it whatever you want, doesn’t matter to me.”

Sadly, what they called it mattered a lot to her. “I see.”

“Don’t go twisting my words, okay?” Jackson thrust out his chin. “Bottom line is that I have to know what we did. All of it.”

“I already told you.”

“We had sex, yeah. Got it. But that could mean a whole range of things. I need the particulars, like if it was nice and slow, or fast and furious.”

Oh. She peeked at him. “Both?”

He went still, then clasped his head and groaned again. In a croak, he asked, “Good old missionary, or did we mix it up a bit? Bedroom or living room?”

The first time had been in his bed. Then his shower. And later in the hall, against the wall. “All of the above.”

His nostrils flared. “How many times did I have you, anyway?”

She bit her lips then ventured… “All night?”

Jerking away, he stalked three steps, then rushed back to her. “Lights on or off?”

“On.” He’d insisted, but at that point, she hadn’t cared. She had enjoyed the concentrated way he’d looked at her, and she’d wanted to see him, too.

Not only had she forgotten any shyness over her nudity, she’d also forgotten about the past, about men who’d taken her and looked at her, handled her like property. With Jackson, she’d overcome a lot of hang-ups. Maybe too many, considering the night had been built on fraud.

His expression a mix of pleading and demand, he grabbed her shoulders. “Damn, baby, I need to see you again. All of you. I need to know how you sound when you’re excited, and when you come.” His busy fingers went to the shoulder strap of her sundress, touching almost idly, playing with it as if it tempted him greatly. “I need to taste you, smell you—”

Stunned, flustered and a little turned on, Alani grabbed his wrist. She hated to disappoint him—and herself—but she saw no other choice. Not right now. “Jackson,” she said gently, “you can’t seriously expect me to put aside everything that happened and just…”

“Pick up wherever we left off? Yeah.” He searched her gaze. “God, yeah.”

“Not happening.” But he looked very endearing in his need. No one had ever wanted her the way Jackson Savor did.

He also looked ready to collapse. Worried for him, she touched his jaw and forced her mind onto more immediate matters. “Have you eaten?”

He scowled. “No. Screw that.” He drew himself up. “You think I could wake up with you naked, soft and smiling one minute, pissed off and storming out the next, with no clue why or how, and I’d just go about my day?”

Yes, well, that did sound absurd. “Sorry.”

“After you left, I suffered through a cold shower, choked down three aspirin and prayed for even a kernel of memory. I got jack-shit. Nothing.”

And yet, when he should be resting in his bed, all he wanted was…her.

Her heart softened more, and her reservations waned. “Why do you think you’ve forgotten?”

Frustration clenched his jaw. His head dropped back on his shoulders, eyes closed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

How could she, especially with him looking so sick? “Of course not.”

His eyes narrowed, and that, too, looked painful, prompting her to change tactics.

“This is ridiculous. You need to sit down.” She took his hand and led him back to her living room. At the couch, she stopped and pressed against his chest. “Sit.”

After a heartbeat where he looked as if he might argue, he more or less fell into the cushions, his strong limbs lax, his entire demeanor devastated. And the enormity of it all hit her, really hit her.

Even the strongest of men had moments of weakness. Jackson always seemed so indomitable, so confident.

But for right now, he needed her, in more ways than one.

Maybe she hadn’t been the only one played last night.

Sinking down next to him, Alani touched his forehead. As if surprised, he went very still.

“No fever.” She cupped his jaw, and felt it firm under her fingers. “Although you are warm.”

Warily, Jackson watched her.

She smoothed his unruly blond hair. It was a little too long, bleached by the sun. Cool and silky. Such a contrast to his inner strength and his external hardness.

Alani made up her mind. “We’re definitely going to talk about this, Jackson, you can believe that. But first I’m going to get you something to drink, and then something to eat. When did you take the aspirin?”

One eye twitched in rebellion. “Don’t start mothering me, Alani. That’s not what I want from you.”

She smiled at his surly tone. “Consider it friendly concern, okay?”

“Call it whatever you want, but I’d rather you lift up that dress, skim off those panties and straddle my lap.”

His audacity stole her breath and her aplomb. “Forget that idea.”

“With you touching me? Not likely.”

“It’s not my touch that’s doing it.” Playful, hoping to tease him into a less sexually aggressive mode, she nudged him with her shoulder. “It’s from all the provocative talking you’re doing.”

Slowly he shook his head. “It’s from you, babe. Talking to you, thinking about you.” His eyes closed for only a moment as he whispered, “Remembering you naked.” He rested a big, hot hand on her thigh, just under the hem of her sundress.

“You need to focus, Jackson.”

“I’m focused, believe me.”

Boy, was he ever. “On something other than sex.”

“I’m focused on you, and thoughts of sex automatically follow.” He tugged her closer. “But you know, I could be a lot more cooperative if you’d help me take the edge off first.”

And exactly how did he think to do that?

His hand slid higher while his voice went lower. “Just let me touch you—”

She grabbed his wrist. So thick, so solid. Dangerous waves of desire weakened her resistance. “We can’t do this.”

“We sure as hell can.” And then, “We already did. Right?”

Unnerved by how tempted she felt, Alani shook her head. “I can’t do this, not right now. So tell me, when did you take the aspirin?”

He stared at her mouth, and his fingers contracted. “Before I headed here, ’bout three hours ago.”

Relieved that he’d finally let up, she released a tight breath. “All right. I’ll get a couple more. Do you want to take off your boots?”

Slowly he nodded. “And my shirt.” His gaze came up to snare hers. “Maybe my pants, too.”

That was his most tempting offer so far. She hadn’t gotten nearly enough time to look at him last night, and this morning…well, he’d been vague, sick, and she’d been so insulted….

To remind herself as much as him, she said, “Forget it, Jackson. You’re not up for it.”

“Wrong.” His hand slid around to cup behind her knee. He tugged her leg toward him, over one of his thighs. “Trust me, I’m up.”

Don’t look, don’t look— Unbelievable. A full erection strained the worn denim of his jeans.

“Jackson.” Before things could get completely out of hand, Alani pushed up and away from him. “Be right back.”

She heard Jackson groan as she more or less fled the room.

When she returned minutes later with the aspirin, a cola and a sandwich, Jackson looked to be sleeping again. He had his head back, one forearm over his eyes, his body relaxed.

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.”

JACKSON 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.

“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?”