Savor the Danger (22 page)

“No, I just—”

To shut him up, she kissed him. A deep, thorough kiss that, if only he realized it, showed the love she felt for him. It was the first time she'd initiated things, and it made her feel powerful. She'd been wanting that kiss ever since they captured the cat.

Right now, with her heart full and her eyes misty,
seemed like as good a time as any. It fed her soul and hopefully would help to ease Jackson's tension.

He continued to resist her, until she licked over his bottom lip.

On a hungry groan, he dragged her closer and turned her a little so he could take over the kiss. One big hand sank into her hair to hold her head still, and the other went down to her bottom so he could snug her up tight against his body.

He ate at her mouth, consuming her, bruising her lips and raising her temperature…

Until someone tapped on the window.

So fast that Alani didn't get a chance to protest, he had her in her seat and his gun drawn.

Outside the window, his arms in the air in comical surrender, Chris sneered at him. “If you shoot me, Dare won't like it.”

Today Chris wore ragged khaki shorts with a faded T-shirt sporting a musical logo that looked as if they'd been worn swimming in the lake. And they probably had.

At six-two, lean and athletic, Chris was gorgeous in his own right. His feet were bare, his black hair disheveled by wind and water, his blue eyes as irreverent as always. Beside him, Dare's dogs—Sargie and Tai—wagged their tails in excitement over company.

Hand to her heart, Alani groaned, but the sound turned into an embarrassed giggle. Good grief, poor Chris. Not only had he found them making out at the gate, but Jackson
still
had the gun pointed at him.

Unlike Dare, Chris didn't cook, and he had no fashion sense beyond comfortably sloppy, but as Dare's good friend, personal assistant, manager, computer whiz and housekeeper, Chris was used to guns and the edgy defense
of Alpha men. In most cases, his sharp wit matched Dare's overwhelming protectiveness.

When Chris leaned down to see her better, Alani mouthed, “Sorry,” to him and got a wink in return.

Ignoring the gun, he said, “There's an empty room inside if you two would like to move this little lovefest from the driveway to the house.”

She waited for Jackson to give some retort, but he sat there, chagrined, bemused, comically hostile, as Chris moved away.

“I didn't even hear the gate open.”

“It's kept well oiled.” The priceless look that remained on his face had Alani choking back a laugh. “It's all right, Jackson. I'll tell Chris it was all my fault.”

“The hell you will.”

The cat came out of the box to stand with his front paws against Jackson's seat back. His emerald gaze went back and forth between them, and, after one deep gravelly meow, he leaped up and over into Jackson's lap.

A horn beeped, and Alani turned to see that Dare had pulled in behind them. Trace wouldn't be far behind.

Still breathing hard, Jackson stowed the gun while giving her a glowering look that promised retribution. As if he handled a longtime favorite pet, he pulled the cat up to his chest and, ignoring Chris, drove through the gate.

The silence lasted for a few seconds more before he said, “I hope you plan to finish what you started.”

“Absolutely.” She could hardly wait. Now that she'd made up her mind on what she wanted, she intended to go after it full force.

“Sex,” he stated. “Without all that mushy bullshit thrown in.”

“Mushy bullshit?”

“Yeah.” He scowled at her. “That nonsense about me being wonderful.”

Their first night together, Jackson had claimed to love her. She knew now that it had likely been the drugs talking, the same drugs that muddled his senses so much he hadn't thought to use protection. The reality was that she could be pregnant. If that was the case, she wanted Jackson to return her love
before
she told him.

She wanted Jackson. Now, always. If he didn't feel the same, then pregnancy wouldn't change that. But he was honorable enough that he'd probably want to marry her.

She didn't want him trapped. She wanted him willing.

She wanted to hear him make another declaration of love but this time, without the influence of drugs.

Careful not to block the entrance Dare would use, he parked outside the garage. She knew he'd been stewing, waiting for her to argue with him, but she had no intention of doing so.

“It'll have to be a quickie.”

“Okay.” Alani smiled toward him.

He scowled some more. “Not that I don't want to make it last, but I'll be heading back out soon as possible.”

He'd be leaving—but she wouldn't? “Heading back out where?”

“When I return,” he told her, “I promise to be more thorough.” He left the car without answering her question.

Not giving him a chance to open her door, Alani hurried to follow him. She wanted Jackson to know that she understood the work he did and was strong enough to deal with it.

She wouldn't get in his way, but she would share it with him.

If he didn't accept that, they couldn't share a future together. What he did was too much a part of him for him to cut her out of it.

“You're going after Arizona, aren't you?”

He gave one abrupt nod while petting the cat on his way through the garage. “Too much has happened, and now she's not answering the phone. I have to know that she's okay.”

“I understand.” The others would join them soon, so she didn't waste time. “It'll be dangerous?”

“I don't think so. If she remembers the backup plan—and she's spontaneous but not dumb, so she should—then I could be back by tomorrow in time for dinner.” He turned heated green eyes on her. “This is something I have to do.”

To settle her suddenly fluttering stomach, Alani drew a deep breath. “Of course it is.” And for the sake of their future, she'd do what she had to do, too.

 

A
N HOUR LATER
, everyone had gathered at Dare's. Alani hadn't yet had a chance to “finish what she'd started” with Jackson because she'd barely seen him once they were all in the house.

She wondered at his lack of attention. With getting Marc settled elsewhere and being unable to reach Arizona, he had his hands full, she understood that. But he
always
had his hands full, and still he'd chased her and been so amazingly attentive…that she felt spoiled.

The last thing Jackson needed right now was a clinging woman. She would be supportive of him, and when time permitted, they'd talk privately.

The men hung out for a long time in the kitchen. “Boy talk,” Priss explained with an air of indulgence.
She and Molly, kind as always, visited with Alani while she set up the guest room and got refreshed. They were very curious about her new relationship with Jackson.

As much as she could, without giving away her own insecurities, Alani shared what had transpired.

“If he's anything like your brother,” Priss said, “I'm amazed he let you out of the bed.”

That made her blush and Molly laugh.

“Sometimes,” Molly confided, “Dare doesn't. Let me out of the bed, I mean. Luckily Chris makes himself scarce on those days, or I'd be forced to embarrassment.” They laughed.

The women were very different and loads of fun. Alani liked them a lot.

“Before Jackson,” Alani admitted, “I wasn't all that interested. Now…well, thanks to him, I have a hard time thinking of anything else.”

Molly grinned at her. “Morning, noon and night, I know.”

Priss agreed. “And the guys are so macho, they're sometimes up for three times a day.”

“And occasionally four times,” Alani said. She laughed—until she realized that both of the women were staring at her. “What?”

“That was a joke, right?” Priss lifted her brows. “Four times?”

“Uh…no.” Was that so unusual? Alani felt her face getting hot. Jackson had claimed to be a sex machine. Had he been serious? “No joke.”

“That's happened?” Molly gaped at her. “Seriously?”

“More than once or twice?” Priss clarified.

Since it had happened quite a bit with Jackson—and
in fact, felt more like the norm when circumstances allowed—she cleared her throat. “Often.”

Priss dropped back with widened eyes. “That stud.”

“Wait.” Molly cocked a brow with suspicion. “Is this when he was drugged?”

“The first time, yes.” Seeing them as great confidantes, Alani shook off her shyness and leaned in. “But since then, too, he's been…insatiable.”

Priss and Molly sat silent for a moment, then burst out laughing. “That dawg,” one said, and “Such a hedonist,” said the other.

Alani found herself grinning, too. “It's pretty wonderful, I have to say.”

Molly hugged her. “Glad to hear it.”

“All this sex talk has me wanting to see Trace.” Priss stood. “Let's go find the guys.”

“Yeah,” Molly said. “I need to let Dare know he's been a slacker.”

They fell into fits of laughter again. Alani shook her head at them, but she kept grinning, too.

Hopeful that she and Jackson could finish their conversation, she decided to wait behind. “You go on. I'll be there shortly.”

Lingering in the bedroom, she waited for Jackson for what felt like forever. When he finally came to her, it was just to tell her that everyone had convened in the family room for casual conversation and food.

He carried the cat, giving it more attention than he did her.

Deflated, but not quite outspoken enough to keep him alone with her in the room when he showed no real interest and everyone else waited for them, Alani went along to join the others.

Dare sat in a big chair with Molly in his lap. He gave
Alani a long look when she walked in, until Molly elbowed him.

Her brother and Priss stood by the fireplace. Priss cupped his face and whispered something in his ear. He drew back, shook his head.

She gave a slow smile and murmured something again.

He turned a dark glower on Jackson, but when Priss started snickering, he gave up and squeezed her.

While Alani fought a blush, Jackson looked at each varying expression. Finally he said, “What?”

“Show-off,” Dare said. “But now I feel challenged.”

Molly pretended to swoon, making Dare laugh again.

Still confused, Jackson looked at Trace, but he said, “Forget it. If you want to know, talk to my sister.”

So he transferred his baffled gaze to Alani.

She cleared her throat and shrugged.

“We'll discuss this later,” he told her in a stern tone.

And everyone cracked up again, even her brother.

Despite her embarrassment, a sense of contentment settled over Alani. Dare and Trace had each found someone very special to them.

Jackson deserved someone special, too. She wanted to be that person.

If her brother and Dare could make it work despite the dangers of their jobs, then surely she could, too.

V
ERY ATTUNED
to his present mood, Alani continued to watch Jackson. When his expression remained impassive and somehow distant, she gave up. As much as she loved him, she wouldn't chase after him. But at the first opportunity, she'd demand he explain his bad humor.

After she took a seat—alone—in the remaining chair, Jackson sat at one end of the couch.

If anyone noted the significance of that, they kept it to themselves.

With Molly curled against his chest, Dare said, “Chris can keep the stray with him until after the vet has given him a clean bill of health.”

Both of Dare's dogs, Sargie and Tai, sat at attention near Jackson's feet, very alert to a new pet in the house. But Liger, Priss's enormous cat, who always came with her when she visited, made a beeline for Trace. Though Liger weighed a hefty twenty-three pounds, he made an agile leap up into Trace's arms.

Trace held the cat on one side and Priss on the other. “Once the vet clears him, we'll introduce him to the other animals.”

“I hate to leave him.” Jackson scratched under the cat's chin. “He doesn't have his front claws, but if he did, they'd be in my hide right now.”

He was so gentle with the cat that Alani wondered how he'd be with a baby. Her heart swelled. Jackson had
shied away from talk of family or commitment, but if it turned out she was pregnant, what would he think? How would he feel?

“He'll adjust fine. My girls won't hurt him.” As Dare spoke, he stroked his fingertips up and down Molly's bare arm. “They love everyone and everything.”

“Do you know what you're going to name him?” Priss asked.

Jackson looked to Alani. “What do you think?”

That he'd include her in the decision while being so contrary only confused her more. “I don't know.” She studied the cat. Thanks to the placement of fur on his wide face, he wore a perpetual frown. “He's awfully grim about everything.”

A fleeting smile played over Jackson's mouth. “And he sort of looks like a gremlin, doesn't he?” He leaned around to see the cat's enormous eyes. “Grim for short. I like it. What do you think?”

Everyone admired the name.

While Jackson continued to talk to the cat, Chris carried in a tray of coffee, colas and sandwiches. He set it on the coffee table and dropped down next to Jackson. He scratched the cat's ear. “Want me to take him while you eat?”

Jackson hesitated—earning more points with Alani's heart. In such a short time he'd already bonded with the cat and, as appeared to be customary for him, he already felt protective.

More than a little famished, she stood up to get some food, hoping that would prompt Jackson to do the same. He'd been running all day without letting up. “You know Chris is good with animals.”

Molly said, “Chris is good with
everything.
”

Dare snorted, but he didn't disagree. He and Chris
had been the best of friends forever, and now Chris ran his house for him. He did everything from organizing the landscapers and repairmen, to the grocery shopping and laundry, to computer work and errands. Dare trusted him completely, and luckily, Chris and Molly got along great.

“I suppose.” Reluctantly, Jackson transferred Grim into Chris's arms. Unconcerned with cat hairs or a possible scratch, Chris drew the cat in close and started stroking him.

Instead of eating, Jackson paced to the patio doors to look out at the lake.

Chris lounged back with Grim and within seconds had him purring loudly. “I already called the vet, by the way. She'll be here soon to look him over. After a checkup, she can recommend what shots he might need. For tonight, I made him up a bed and litter box in my laundry room. Tomorrow, after I make sure the animals all get along, I can run into town to get a collar and whatever else he needs.”

“You see,” Molly said. “Isn't he amazing?”

“Yeah.” His back to the room, Jackson said, “I need a Chris.”

Because Chris was gay, Dare choked and Trace laughed.

Chris, one dark brow lifted, said, “Yeah…not.”

“I didn't mean for that.” Secure in his masculinity, Jackson didn't take offense at the ribbing as he turned to survey the room. “I mean now that I have a house, I need someone I can trust to keep it together, too.”

Alani made a point of not looking at him, but her heart thumped and her pulse raced.

She tried to be blasé, but she felt Jackson's rapt attention on her.

“When I have to be away for a week or more, it'd be nice to know someone was looking after things.”

Was that a hint? A suggestion? Or just an observation based on the way Dare and Trace ran their own households?

“Tough to have plants—or pets—without someone around on a daily basis,” Molly agreed.

“I'm one of a kind,” Chris told them. “They broke the mold after me.”

Dare snorted. “Thank God.”

Trace gave Jackson a telling look. “Priss keeps our place running smooth, and she keeps my life pretty damned organized, too.”

“He agreed to my assistance under duress,” Priss told them.

“Not really.” Trace kissed her temple. “I don't want you involved in anything dangerous—”

“Hear, hear,” Dare said, lifting his cola in a toast and earning a hug from Molly.

“—but you're great on the computer at tracking down records. And you've got a diabolical mind when it comes to deciphering the motives and probabilities of maniacs.”

“Meaning I make a good sounding board.” Priss grinned.

Shell-shocked over that disclosure, Jackson said, “You tell her things about…” He caught Priss's challenging stare and rethought his words. “You know, business?”

“Sometimes, sure.” Trace shrugged. “I trust her, and she's good at helping me fit the puzzle pieces together.”

“But you know there's still a lot you don't tell me.”

“I'll take the fifth on that.” Trace kissed her before she could protest.

“I have to be careful what I say,” Dare mentioned.

Molly grinned. “He worries that I'll borrow trade secrets for one of my suspense books.” She smacked his shoulder. “But of course I wouldn't.”

They all laughed.

Growing antsy under Jackson's unrelenting stare, Alani looked up. She felt the touch of his gaze clear down to her soul. She tried a smile, but he was so contained, he didn't return the gesture.

Determined to be proactive, she picked up a sandwich and a cola and joined him at the other end of the room. Even while suffering great misgivings, she held on to his gaze and her smile.

“You should eat.” She offered him the food.

He took everything from her and set it on the table behind him. Lifting a long lock of her hair, he brought it up to his face, his eyes closed, expression pained. “You have the most amazing hair. So damn soft.”

“Jackson?”

He drew her into his arms, his nose at her temple, his hand sliding into her hair, around her skull. “It's almost as pretty as your eyes.”

He seemed somewhat…desolate.

“What is it?” she whispered. The others were talking, pretending to pay them no attention.

She and Jackson both knew better; nothing got past Trace and Dare.

He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, then kissed the bridge of her nose, her cheekbone. “Don't make me out to be something I'm not, okay?”

“You're worrying me, Jackson.”

“Mmm.” He turned her so that her back rested against the patio door, and he shielded her from the gazes of others with his body. “That's something I never want to do.”

She drew a fortifying breath. “Caring and worrying go hand in hand. Even if you didn't have such a dangerous job, there would be times of concern.” She rested a hand over his strong heartbeat. “I can't help that. I'm female.”

“Very female,” he murmured.

Now
that
sounded more like Jackson. “So you're finally noticing that again?”

“Did I ever stop noticing?” Not giving her an opportunity to reply, he said, “There's a lot to decide, a lot to be done.”

She didn't like the sound of that, either. “Like what?”

He looked down at her mouth, then up into her eyes—and his cell phone rang. For one heartbeat of time, he froze. Everyone turned to them.

Alani saw the change in his demeanor and posture as he went hard and resolute, dark and dangerous in a nanosecond.

He stepped away from her while digging the phone from his jeans pocket.

He looked at the caller ID, and a calculated smile of satisfaction sent chills up her spine. “It's Arizona.”

Both Dare and Trace came to attention. Their wives, too.

Alani reached out to touch Jackson, but as he opened the phone to answer, he stepped out of her reach—and then, to her disbelief, he turned his back on her.

 

I
NSTINCTIVELY NEEDING
Alani distanced from any possible threat, Jackson separated himself from her before answering the phone. She already had some messed up, skewed perception of him, thinking him all noble and honorable.

He wasn't a damn saint. Far from it, and he didn't want his worry for Arizona to add to her confusion.

Her quick acceptance of things had left him reeling. It wasn't what he'd expected. Jealousy, sure. A snit, maybe. He'd deliberately kept things from her—still kept things from her—but she accepted it with ease.

She was so goddamned understanding that it made his brain spin.

Would she as easily accept that Arizona was a part of his life now? He couldn't abandon her.

But he wouldn't give up Alani, either.

Done speculating, Jackson put the phone to his ear and, following protocol, said nothing. He just waited.

“It's Arizona.”

Relief stiffened his spine even more. He went right to the point: “You're okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

He wasn't buying that, not until he saw her himself. “Where are you?”

“Weeeellll… That's the thing. I'm sort of…on the road.”

He paced away from the door, wishing he had real privacy—or more to the point, that the women weren't in the room. But damn Dare and Trace, neither of them made a move to make that happen, and he felt the intrusion of the wives, of Alani, as a keen imposition. “I called.”

“You did?” She sounded surprised, but with a lack of apology, said, “Couldn't answer.”

“Why not?” Then it occurred to him that if she wasn't returning his earlier calls, she had to have another reason. “What's wrong?”

“The thing is, I don't want you freaking out.”

Insulted, he paced to the window to stare down at the lake. “I do not freak out.”

“Yeah, right. Well then, I don't want you going off on a killing rampage. How's that?”

Determined to get to the truth, he asked softly, “Why would I want to do that?” Her sarcastic attitude always hid fear. As elusive as she remained, he knew that much about her. “Tell me what's going on, Arizona. Now.”

She gave a long, dramatic sigh. “Okay, fine, don't get your boxers in a bunch.”

“Arizona.”

“I lost the cell. That is, I lost the one you were probably calling on. I still have this one.”

Just as he, Dare and Trace each carried two cells, he'd given Arizona two, as well—one for true emergencies, and one for just talking. It was her “around town” phone—and to keep their relationship secret, she wasn't supposed to use it to call him. “How?”

“Some guy I met in a bar—”

“Where are you?” She
had
used the phone to call him, so something had to be seriously wrong. Ready to go after her, he took a few steps, but he didn't know where to go and it left him incensed. “I'm
fine,
Jackson. Honest. Geez, take a breath already, will you?”

He did, damn her. “You're sure you're all right?”

“I'm awesome, cross my heart. I'm not calling for backup. Now if you'll let me finish—”

“You said you were in a
bar?
” He didn't know any reputable bars that'd willingly serve an underage girl. But he knew plenty that would let in a girl who looked like Arizona.

She laughed. “Yeah, you've heard of them. Local drinking hole? Place for shitheads to get plastered and bimbos to get laid.”

“God help me,” he muttered mostly to himself, and then, “What bar? When? Where exactly are you now?”

“Doesn't matter what bar, because I'm nowhere near there now. Happened last night and I've been on the road ever since. As for where I am now, I'm just crossing over from Ohio into Kentucky.”

“Highway?”

“Yep.”

So for now, she should be clear. Enough traffic remained on the main roads that it'd be tough for anyone to get to her without being exposed.

“What about the guy at the bar?” He studied the sky. It remained light 'til late, so he had plenty of time yet to get to her. He wanted to be moving, doing, but he needed facts first.

And getting facts from Arizona was enough to make him grind his teeth.

“Well, don't blow a gasket, but I sort of tussled with this big dude who was there to… See, at first I mistook what he wanted. But, I dunno, maybe he was just there to scope out the scumbags, same as me.”

His hair nearly stood on end. Scope out scumbags?
Tussle.
His back to the room and voice low, he said, “Been playing vigilante again?”

“Call it whatever you like. Thing is, I don't know why he was rousing the rabble, but I figured him to be different, ya know? Well, not
that
different.”

Fist on his hip, phone to his ear, Jackson dropped his head forward and groaned. “What happened?”

“He lusted, I laid him low, end of story.”

Of course he'd lusted. Arizona had that effect on most guys, which was probably why she had expected him to be the same. “If it was the end, why are you calling?”