Savor the Danger

For the night? Oh, for pity’s sake. Sure, she realized that she might have stumbled into things, but they were stretching it. Rather than admit that she wanted Jackson to stay, she said, “I promise I will be extra careful.”

“Not good enough.” Dare set aside his coffee. “You don’t have the right skills to recognize a possible problem.”

Her smile hurt. “Believe me, being kidnapped more than drove home that point for me.” At her self-deprecating tone, each of them froze with uncertainty. It was almost amusing, given how big and skilled and dangerous they could be.

Knowing the way they thought, she continued, “It makes no sense that anyone would want to hurt me. Jackson was the one drugged.” She held up a hand. “But yes, I realize that if that woman had anything to do with him being drugged, then she saw my face and she heard Jackson call me by name.”

“It’s a long shot,” Jackson told her. “But why take any chances?”

Trace moved to stand over her. “It’s also possible someone knew you would be at his place, and that’s why Jackson got drugged in the first place.”

Dear God. She hadn’t even considered that. Had he been drugged so that someone could get to her? Had she inadvertently put Jackson in danger? Thinking aloud, she said, “I called him from my cell—”

Trace asked, “Not your office phone?”

“No.”

Dare stood. “Where is it?”

“My purse.” She nodded toward the kitchen. “In there.”

Dare left the room to get it.

Jackson had been too quiet. She glanced at him, and got caught in his intent stare.

Overly gentle, he reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I don’t want you to worry, Alani. No one is going to hurt you.”

Because people had already hurt her, an invisible fist squeezed her lungs. It took so little to alarm her.

Nothing really new in that. Since escaping Tijuana, she hadn’t really stopped being afraid. Sometimes she hid it well, and sometimes…sometimes it woke her in the middle of the night, a scream burning her throat, her face wet with tears.

Swallowing down the shame of cowardice, she nodded. “I know.” And then, hopefully with more strength, “So what now?”

Trace and Jackson shared a look. Jackson took her hand. “For about a dozen or more reasons, I’m hoping you’ll let me hang around. If Trace wasn’t leg-shackled—”

“Leg-shackled?” Sidetracked, Alani gave a laugh that sounded far too forced. “Priss would get you for that.”

Jackson showed his teeth in a wicked grin. “Yeah, she’d probably try.” He quickly held up a hand toward her brother. “Don’t hit me, Trace. I’m not a hundred percent, so it wouldn’t be fair. Besides, you know Priss is always on the fence about whether or not she likes me.”

Trace sawed his teeth together. “Shut up about it.”

Under most situations, her brother was the personification of icy calm.

When it came to his wife, Priscilla…not so much.

But then, given that Jackson, in the course of a rescue from intruders, had taken Priss naked from the shower, Alani understood why it nettled Trace.

After a tense silence, her brother reined in his anger to address her. “Do you have any appointments you need to cancel?”

Avoiding a direct answer, she said, “I usually work every day.” She couldn’t help but resist the idea of having her life turned upside down again.

Jackson turned her toward him. “You can still keep your appointments, but how about I tag along? Just as an extra precaution.”

“But…” Okay, she got the need for vigilance. But would it never end?

Dare strode back in, still holding Alani’s phone. “Do you need to jot down any of your saved numbers before I turn it off?”

“Why would you—”

“Cells can be traced. For now, Jackson can set you up with a prepay. Use it if you have to make a call. Otherwise, just use your landline.”

“For now,” Trace reiterated. “Just till we rule out a few things.”

Alani wilted. Surely they were overreacting. But the last thing she wanted was for any of them to know how cowardly she felt about it all. “I know the numbers I call often, and customer numbers are in my files.”

Trace walked over to stand in front of her, then held out a hand. “My turn.”

Ripe with mistrust, Jackson caught her arm to detain her. “Your turn for what?”

Good Lord, Jackson sounded confrontational. He might not worry about Trace’s temper, and she trusted that he could fend for himself, but a physical confrontation between the two of them would be too ugly to contemplate.

She slipped away from Jackson and stood by her brother. “Be right back,” she started to say, but Trace was already tugging her away.

He urged her all the way across the floor and out the back door to the patio. Through the kitchen window she could see Jackson craning his neck to look after them, his expression dark, dangerous.

Did he think Trace would steal her away? From her own home? He was every bit as protective as her brother, and, unsure how she felt about that, she sighed.

“I think I’m going to puke,” Trace said.

Alani slugged Trace in the shoulder—and probably hurt her hand a lot more than she hurt him. “You like Jackson, so stop it.”

“I like his work. I don’t like this situation, and I sure as hell don’t like seeing you so lovesick.”

Her knees locked. “Lovesick?”

Trace stared at her, then turned away to grouse before facing her again. “You are in love with him, aren’t you?”

Well, shoot. She dampened dry lips. “I never said—”

“You don’t have to. I know you, Alani. I can see it.” His expression softened. “Dare probably sees it, too.”

That thought horrified her. “Do you think—”

“That Jackson knows?” He shook his head. “Not unless you told him. Women always screw up a guy’s intuition. You’ve got him spinning on his ass right now. If he hadn’t been drugged, I might actually find it funny.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jackson seemed as in control as ever.

“Trust me, figuring out women is more of a challenge than facing off with a lunatic murderer.”

Lovely. With false sweetness, Alani asked, “I suppose sisters are excluded from that analogy?”

“It’s not at all the same.” He cupped a hand over her shoulder and only hesitated a second before getting serious. “It’s not going to be easy, you know.”

She gave another long sigh. “I know.”

“Jackson is…”

“Too much like you?” At his surprise, Alani shook her head. “And Dare, too. But I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

He gave a fleeting smile before tousling her hair. “Brat.” He quickly sobered. “Our line of work complicates relationships in a big way.”

“There is that.”

“He could be gone long stretches of time when he’s on a case.”

So Jackson was right—Trace was more accepting of their involvement than she’d realized. “I know.”

“And you know you’ll worry.”

She nodded. “But you’re my brother, Trace, so I’m already used to that.” There were times when Trace would be gone for weeks—but during those times, he left Dare available to her for emergencies. And always, Alani knew he’d give up a mission if she needed him.

“It’ll be different, honey. Believe me.”

“Probably.” She’d often wondered how Priss and Molly handled it. It was tough enough fretting over a brother, but the added intimacy of a romantic relationship would sharpen everything. That is… “I don’t even know yet if it’ll be an issue.” Because she didn’t know how Jackson really felt about her. “Everything is pretty up in the air right now.”

The confessions he’d made last night no longer counted.

“You’ll give him a chance to clear up the problems?”

“If you mean will I let him stick around, yes.” She’d wanted to do that anyway, and this was as good an excuse as any.

Trace took in her expression with dark concern. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Not really, no.” She flashed him a smile. “Do you think Priss knew?”

At the mention of his wife, Trace scowled and rubbed his ear. “Probably.” He dropped his hand and laughed. “At least, more than I did, because she always seemed to be a step ahead of me.”

Alani had probably gotten the censored version of their story, but she knew they’d both gone undercover at the same time, after the same person, and each had a specific agenda that didn’t always mesh with the other’s. Along the way, Priss had turned her control-freak brother upside down.

Spinning on his ass?

Yes, that aptly described it. “And what about Molly?”

His humor faded. “No. After all she’d been through, Molly was badly shaken. She was always practical, but at a loss how to get on with her life.”

Alani remembered it well; she and Molly were both taken by the same people. They’d shared the same small, cramped confinement with other women. Stuffy air, chains, filth, fear and desolation…

Whereas she’d been too terrified to breathe, Molly had been brazen, arguing with their captors, defying them at every turn. To this day, it made Alani shudder to think of it. “She was so brave.”

Probably knowing she drew unfavorable comparisons, Trace pulled her into a tight hug. “Molly handled it differently from you, that’s all. And Dare always knows what he’s doing, so he helped her work it out.”

Alani didn’t want to think about the awful kidnapping or the new danger presenting itself, so instead she concentrated on Jackson. “I don’t know where things will go from here, but I’m not dumb.” Not anymore. Last night…temporary insanity? That excuse worked for her. “I don’t want you to worry about me. Jackson would never hurt me physically, and I’m the only one responsible for my emotions.”

Trace kissed the top of her head. “All right. But if at any point you want me to stomp him, let me know.”

He said that with relish, helping to lighten her mood. “He’s not a slouch, you know. He might surprise you.”

“Nope. I already know Jackson can handle himself. If not, he wouldn’t be working with Dare and me, and no way in hell would I rely on him to keep you safe.”

She skipped over the issue of her safety to say, “So you admit he’s a lot like you?”

Slinging an arm around her shoulders, Trace said, “Why do you think I’m so worried?” Without giving her a chance to reply, he led her back into the house.

Alani hoped the discussions were now at an end so she could see to Jackson.

WITH THE OTHERS out of the room, Dare spent his time eyeballing Jackson, irking him until Jackson stopped watching for Alani and instead barked, “What?”

Dare nodded at his crotch. “You really ought to get that under control.”

Jackson looked down, saw he still had an obvious jones, and cursed. “It’s a unique situation.” Alani was a unique woman. He dropped a throw pillow over his lap. “Can’t you drag Trace out of here?”

“Doubtful, but I’m not even going to try. At least, not until we have things settled.”

Through his teeth, Jackson said, “You guys are making her more nervous than she needs to be. I can handle it.”

Dare gave him a long, sober look. “Why do I doubt that you’re thinking straight?”

“My brains aren’t in my dick, damn it.” Sure, lust left him tense. But Alani’s safety would always be his number one priority. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to her.”

Unfazed, Dare shrugged. “Trace is her brother. I’m a pseudo-brother. Until we know what’s happening, no one is budging.” And then, as Trace and Alani walked back in, Dare stood, too. “All done?”

Alani said, “Yes,” and started to sit by Jackson again.

He was just reaching for her when Dare caught her elbow. “Great. Now it’s my turn.”

Frustration pushed Jackson over the edge. He shot to his feet. “This is bullshit!” He did not want Dare and Trace filling her head with reasons to run from him. “Let’s roll credits on the drama already.”

At his raised voice, Trace’s muscles bunched up. “Watch your mouth in front of my sister.”

“She’s not a damn china doll.”

Alani started to speak, but Trace didn’t give her a chance. “You’ll treat her with respect.”

Jackson stiffened. He wasn’t going to explain himself to her brother. What was between them was private—and he wanted to get back to it, damn it. But he wouldn’t keep putting up with Trace’s animosity, either. “You think I don’t?”

Dare tugged Alani along. “Let’s leave them to it, hon, okay?”

And Alani, left with little choice in the matter, again walked away.

“This is insane.” Jackson dropped back down on the couch and glared at Trace. “You two will wear her out with all this covert chitchat, back-and-forth nonsense.”

“You’ll both survive.”

Jackson wasn’t at all sure about that. If they talked Alani into keeping her distance from him, he’d detonate. Trying to hide his tension, Jackson said more calmly, “What the hell did you say to her, anyway? And why couldn’t you say it right here in the comfort of her living room?”

Pensive, silent, Trace leaned against the wall.

Jackson stewed until he couldn’t hold it in. “And what the hell does Dare have to do with anything? He’s not even her damn brother.”

Eyes narrowing, Trace suffered him in silence.

With nothing more to do, and Trace being a bore, Jackson poured himself another cup of coffee.

He had just taken a sip when Trace said, “I assume you haven’t told her everything.”

What the hell could he tell her when he didn’t remember even a smidge of the night? “What’s that?”

Pushing away from the wall, Trace stood beside the chair Dare had vacated. “There are things about you, Jackson, added responsibilities that Alani’s unaware of. Or have you told her about Arizona?” Oh. That. Shit. “Not yet, no.”

“I didn’t think so.”

As always when discussing Arizona, heat crawled up his neck. Half under his breath, Jackson said, “Haven’t really had much chance for talking, not with you two hanging around, making her think the world is coming to an end.” And besides, what woman would understand about Arizona? He sure as hell didn’t want to shoot himself in the foot this early.

“If that’s your way of saying I’m overreacting, Alani is used to my idea of caution. She’d think something more was wrong if I acted any other way.”

Maybe he had a point. “If you say so.”

“Tell her about Arizona, or I will.”

That challenge couldn’t go unanswered. Jackson set the cup down with a clatter. “It’s my business, Trace.” And besides, Trace might think he knew everything about it, but he didn’t. Not by a long shot.

“When you’re sleeping with my sister, it becomes my business.”

Jackson locked his back teeth, but he’d never taken well to ultimatums. “Arizona has nothing to do with her.”

“If you care about her, then Arizona has plenty to do with her.” Trace crossed his arms over his chest and widened his stance. “And if you don’t care, then I’m telling you right now, leave her the hell alone.”

HEARING RAISED VOICES in the living room left Alani uneasy. She tried to rush back in, but Dare didn’t let her.

He caught one of her hands in both of his. “Relax, honey. They’re fine.”

Didn’t sound fine to her. She chewed her bottom lip. “I think they’re arguing.”

Dare shrugged. “So? They’re both reasonable enough. They won’t come to blows.”

If only she had his confidence. She knew that when it came to her, Trace could be more than unreasonable. “All right, but let’s make this quick.” She tried to give Dare her attention, when truthfully, she strained to hear what her brother and Jackson were saying.

“You know I think of you as a little sister.”

“Yes.” And she thought of him as another brother. Dare and Trace had known each other for a very long time. After the death of their parents, Dare had been there, helping them both to cope. He’d been there through all the most important steps in their lives.

She flinched at a particularly loud curse from Jackson.

Insistent on getting her attention, Dare brought her face around to his. “I’m sorry to do this, but Jackson is slammed, and Trace just isn’t himself, so it looks like it’s up to me.”

Given the seriousness of his tone, Alani almost groaned. “Do I really want to hear this?”

“I brought you out here because I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

“Too late for that, isn’t it?” Already her faux pas—sleeping with a drugged man unaware of his own actions—had been aired to the people closest to her. “All things considered, I don’t know how I could be any more embarrassed.”

Apologetic, Dare asked, “Did you guys use protection?”

Shock took her back a step. Obviously she hadn’t even seen the start of embarrassment yet.

Protection? She wanted to groan. “I…” Had they? That first time, yes. Her face heated as she remembered watching Jackson intently roll on a condom. But after that?

Dropping his head forward, Dare muttered to himself. “Don’t tell me. It’s none of my damn business. But with Jackson drugged, he might not have been thinking right.” His probing gaze held hers. “That’s the point of a roofie, you know. Complete lack of inhibition.”

“I see.” Putting a hand over her mouth, Alani racked her brain. Even after that first time, Jackson had remained insatiable, and they’d both been frenzied… She couldn’t specifically recall the use of condoms.

“I don’t suppose you’re on the pill?”

She shook her head. “No need.” And then she slapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Dare had already absorbed that telling confession.

“Okay then.” Dare rubbed her shoulder. “Without asking for details, I’m guessing—under the right circumstances—you might have been a little too inexperienced to pay attention.”

“The right circumstances?”

He rubbed her shoulder some more. “Getting carried away and all that.”

Her cheeks burned. How could he so easily discuss things so private? Much more of this and she’d be permanently singed. “Things did happen sort of…fast.”

Dare’s mouth quirked. “Not something Jackson would want you to share, hon.”

“I don’t mean…!” More heat flooded into her face, almost making her light-headed. “That is, the decision to…and then again…I sort of forgot….”

“I do understand.” Dare fought off a grin. “But just in case, it’s something the two of you should discuss, don’t you think?”

She covered her face with both hands. “This just keeps going from bad to worse.”

“Don’t jump the gun, okay? Odds are, Jackson took care of it and even if he didn’t, it might not be an issue.”

She hoped not, because after that first time, she’d simply accepted anything and everything he wanted to do, no questions asked.

“But for future reference…” Watching her, Dare said, “I don’t suppose you have any condoms here?”

Why would she? Sure, she’d recently turned twenty-four, and most women that age were sexually active. But after her kidnapping… No. She’d had no real interest.

Until Jackson.

“No. No, I don’t.” Even if she’d wanted to jump back in bed with Jackson, it didn’t sound plausible. What could she do? Suggest he make a drugstore run first? She already knew he wasn’t going to budge from her side, and she definitely wasn’t shopping with him.

Putting her shoulders back, she faced Dare. “Is that it, then?” She wasn’t sure she could handle any more.

He studied her face. “Jackson knows about you being kidnapped.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes.” She’d first met him when both Trace and Dare were busy, and they’d put Jackson to the task of watching over her—an unnecessary precaution that neither of them seemed inclined to let go anytime soon. But then, they watched over everyone they cared about.

“Does he know details? Because it occurs to me he might be the right one for you to confide in.”

Just the thought of detailing her imprisonment…no. She couldn’t. It left her stomach queasy and her breathing shallow, her heart tripping and her skin cold.

More than anything, she prayed to just forget about it.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Alani sought to stifle her reaction. She drummed up a pathetic smile. “It’s old news, Dare. No reason to rehash it.”

“You know, hon, Molly has told me everything.” He bent to meet her averted eyes. “It’s important to talk about it. I know you’re doing okay now, and I know you’ve moved on. Trace and I are both proud of you.”

Absurd. She’d given neither of them reason to be proud.

“But it stays in here.” With one finger he touched the center of her chest above her breasts. “And here.” He brushed that same fingertip to her temple. “Until you share it.”

“I have shared,” she tried to say with a straight face. “With you and Trace.”

Too astute for his own good, Dare shook his head. “I got you out of there. I understand why talking to me would be too much. And with the way Trace reacted, I know you never wanted to burden him more.”

And it would have been a burden. In some ways, though he hid it well, her abduction had been harder on Trace than on her. “He was so distressed that you had to come after me.”

“He’d have had a hell of a time keeping me away.” Dare cupped the back of her neck, waggling her head in a familiar, friendly way. “But I know what you mean. He wanted to be the one handling things, and if he hadn’t already been known to the bastards who took you, he would have been.”

But since they had known Trace, the odds of him reaching her had been diminished. Sending Dare had upped her chances of being rescued, but had been oh-so-much-more dangerous for Dare.

Alani swallowed. “If I’d been paying better attention that day at the beach—”

“Then you might not have been taken. And God only knows what would have happened to Molly.”

She jerked her head up to stare at him. Solemn, serious, gaze direct, Dare stared back at her.

“I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

He gave one small nod. “No way in hell did I ever want you to go through all that, hon. You know that. But sometimes things happen for a reason. I like to think I was there for you so I could get Molly out, too.”

Her eyes burned. She threw her arms around Dare and squeezed him tight. “Thank you, Dare.” In his simple, caring way, he’d just lightened her burden.

Hugging her right off her feet, Dare kissed the top of her head and said, “Anytime, sweetie.” He levered her back, grinned suddenly and then actually laughed.

A little affronted, Alani frowned at him. “What’s funny?”

“The look on Jackson’s face.”

Oh! She turned—and there Jackson stood, his reddened eyes burning with an excess of emotion, his shoulders bunched, his jaw taut.

Trace stood behind him, his mouth twisted with irony. “I told him to stay put, but he didn’t listen.”

CHAPTER FIVE

JEALOUSY SUCKED. He didn’t like it worth a damn. He especially didn’t like it now, with Alani rolling her eyes at him, and Dare and Trace both amused at his expense.

Seeing her in Dare’s arms, even knowing they were practically siblings, burned his ass big-time. Next to Dare, she looked so small and fair, and he could see in her golden eyes how she trusted Dare.

With her feelings and with her life.

Jackson had no doubts about his abilities—but did Alani? Next to Dare and Trace, he stood out as different. They’d ribbed him plenty of times for his appearance, calling him a ladies’ man, a beach bum, making jibes about his preference for comfort over style.

Even now, Dare wore an expensive pullover with untattered jeans. More upper-class in his style, Trace wore a button-up shirt and khakis.

That morning, he’d dressed in haste, anxious to get to Alani. But even if he hadn’t, Jackson knew he’d still have reached for the ancient jeans that, through the years, he’d worn in just right. The scuffed boots helped to hide his knife. And his array of T-shirts, some plain, some with raunchy sayings, always won out for being comfortable.