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Authors: Lori Foster

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“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.”

 

H
EARING 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

J
EALOUSY 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.

But next to the men Alani admired, did he fall short? She was a classy lady, always done up just right, from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. Even now, with the late sunshine warming her skin, leaving it dewy, she
looked fresh and sweet. A breeze stirred the humid air, teasing her beautiful hair and carrying her unique scent to him. Jackson inhaled, filling his lungs with the aroma of woman.

His
woman.

He wanted to drag her close, to stake a claim.

And the guys knew it. With their presence alone, they taunted him.

Jackson swallowed hard, tried to loosen up, and asked, “Everybody all talked out? We can drive a stake through the clandestine crap? Good. I'll show you to the door.”

Not fooled at all, Dare snorted. “We still need to work out the setup.”

Moving to Jackson's side, Alani took charge. “You should be sitting down.” She put her arm around him as if for support. Ignoring the fact that he outweighed her by more than a hundred pounds and stood damn near a foot taller, she tried to urge him back toward the couch.

Unmanned by her mollycoddling, he stiffened. “I don't need you to—”

Trace pushed past them. “If he can't walk on his own steam, then leave him outside.”

“Wanna hold my hand?” Dare asked him.

“Ignore them,” Alani told Jackson. “I plan to.”

Provoked beyond reason, Jackson rubbed the back of his neck.

“Are you okay?” She cupped the side of his face gently. “Does your head hurt?”

This mothering tendency of hers made him really uncomfortable. He hadn't blushed since his early teens, but damned if he didn't feel his ears getting hot.

“You're warm,” she fussed. “Do you think you have a fever?”

“Poor baby,” Dare muttered, then snorted.

Jackson's restraint broke. He wanted to take care of her, not the other way around. To prove to her that he wasn't handicapped in any way, Jackson scooped her up into his arms.

“Jackson!”

He kissed her hard, and when she would have pulled away, he kept on kissing her, hugging her close, tilting his head for a better fit. He kissed her until she stopped fighting him.

Against her lips, he said, “Unless you want further proof that I'm fine, stop babying me.” And then he headed inside.

Dare snorted again, but he closed the door behind them.

Back in the living room, Jackson stood her on her feet. “Now, we need—
oof.

Her pointy elbow landed with unerring precision. He hadn't braced for it because he hadn't expected it. After being so sick that morning, his innards still felt sore, and she'd gotten him good.

A hand to his midsection, he straightened and stared at her. Her angelic expression lacked remorse.

As he stared down at her, incredulous, she smiled like a sinner. “Unless you want further proof that I object to manhandling, stop pushing me.”

By slow degrees, Jackson's frown faded into a grin. “You want to play, darlin'?” More than a little aware of Dare and Trace standing back, giving him the opportunity to spar with her, Jackson said, “Oh, I love to play. Just know that paybacks are hell.”

Her eyes widened. “But you're the one who started it by—”

“Children, please,” Trace said. “Recess is over.”

Wanting them gone, Jackson announced without preamble, “I'm taking her to my place.”

Dare rejected that idea. “Your place is where this all started.”

“No, not my apartment. My house.” To Alani, he said, “It's not done yet, but it's livable. It'll give you a chance to think about designs and stuff. The plumbing is operational, and the security is already in place.”

Alani shook her head. “You're taking a lot for granted.”

Ignoring that, Jackson added to the men, “It's plenty private, too. We won't have to worry about passersby or visitors.”

Dare considered it. “You used a different name when hiring the builders?”

“Alternate identity down the line.” In an aside to Alani, he explained, “I always use an alias. Safer that way.”

“Get real, Jackson. Trace is my brother, so I'm already aware of the need for secrecy.”

“Oh, yeah? That's why you didn't give old Marc my last name the day I met him?”

“Of course.”

“Brains are so damn sexy.” And while she sputtered over that, he said to Dare, “Everything was paid for in cash. No one can track the location to me.”

Trace chewed on the idea. “You're what? An hour or so from where I live?”

“'Bout that.” Close enough to appease Trace, but far enough away that he'd have plenty of alone time with Alani. It'd just be the two of them, sunshine, water, nature…a perfect setup for romance.

Alani shook her head again. “No.”

“It's isolated enough,” Dare said. “You have a boat?”

Jackson put a hand to the small of Alani's back. He
wanted her aware of the necessities, but he also wanted her to trust him to take care of everything. “One obvious, one hidden.”

“I'm not going.” Alani crossed her arms.

Figuring he'd get her there one way or another, Jackson hugged her—while also guarding against another blow. So far she'd waffled between treating him like an invalid and inflicting pain upon his body. “Everything will be fine, honey, you'll see. This is just a preventative measure, so don't get worked up about it, okay?”

“I am not worked up.”

“Great. Just give me another minute here, and then I'll help you get packed.” He addressed Trace again. “No one can get on the property without me knowing. We can hang out while you two do a little digging.”

“I'm not—”

“I already have the basics on Tobin,” Trace mused aloud, speaking over Alani's attempted protests. “Should be easy enough to see what he's been up to lately. If he had anything to do with drugging you, I'll know it by the end of the week.”

Alani gasped. “You were spying on him?”

Jackson gave her a “duh” look. “You thought Trace wouldn't?” She thought
he
wouldn't?

Slowly but surely, her ire gathered. “Have you spied on every guy I've dated?”

Trace and Jackson said together, almost as one, “Who else is there?”

She glared at them both, then deflated. “No one.”

Redirecting everyone's attention again, Dare said, “I'll go by your apartment to see if I can unearth anything. I know you said you did that, but it can't hurt to have fresh eyes.”

“Especially since my brains were numbed,” Jackson
agreed. Beneath the hand he had at Alani's waist, her muscles tensed. He liked the feel of her, the supple strength, the dip of her waist and the slight flair of her hip, the warmth of her sweet little body.

The sight of her naked would be forever emblazoned on his brain, but he wanted to see her again. He wanted to visually explore her to his heart's content.

“Need us to grab anything for you while we're there?” Trace asked.

“I'll text you a list if I think of anything.” He didn't want to drag out their visit any longer than necessary. By the second, Alani got more rigid. That wasn't what any of them wanted, so the sooner he got rid of the guys, the quicker they could settle down and she could relax. “Molly's more reasonable than Priss, so maybe Dare could talk to the single women in the apartment complex and see if any of them know anything.”

“Any single women in particular?”

Jackson shrugged. “Any that are good looking, I reckon. You could start with the description Alani gave, but don't limit it to that. Maybe check in with Brigit next door. She's single, has her girlfriends over on occasion.”

Dare said, “Got it,” while Alani slowly turned her head to stare at him.

“And maybe Carly. She's offered to help me around the place. She got in the door once, so she knows the layout of the place. And maybe—”

Alani shoved Jackson. Hard.

Rather than drag her off balance with him, he released her before stumbling back a step. Her shove had been hard enough that she had probably hoped to knock him on his ass.

Silly woman.

At the continued show of violence, all three of them stared at her.

Jackson spoke first. “What the hell was that for?”

“Language,” Trace reminded him again.

Alani's stance gave away her frustration. “You're all three being impossible. Listen up—I am not going anywhere tonight!”

“Just calm down,” Dare said.

“No,
you
calm down.” She glared at Dare until he held up his hands in surrender. “Look, I get it that you guys want to protect me. Great. Thanks. Appreciate it.”

“Then what's the problem?” Jackson asked her.

She turned to shove him again. He caught her hands and yanked her close so that she tumbled against his chest. Looking straight into her eyes, he said, “Settle down before you hurt yourself.”

Staying against him, she stated, “I will not be steam-rolled. I will not be treated like an idiot.”

Again, they all went mute.

Jackson wanted her to be his responsibility, not anyone else's, so he was the first to speak. “No one thinks you're an idiot. That's just dumb.”

Her expression turned incredulous.

“God help us,” Trace muttered.

Hoping to smooth things over, Jackson asked, “You can't get the time off work?”

“It has nothing to do with work.”

“So you are free?”

She gave him a killing frown. “I'm not currently involved with any redesigns. I cleared my calendar to work on your house, as you requested.”

Huh. “That's why you came to see me yesterday?” Satisfaction sank into his bones.

“Maybe.” She glanced at Trace and Dare, and pushed away from Jackson. “In part.”

So maybe the other part had been intimate interest? Hell, yeah. “Then this is perfect. I think you'll like my house.”

“Yes, well…” Going all prim and proper, she smoothed the skirt of her dress. “I'm guessing it has to be better than your apartment. But that's not the—”

“You don't like my apartment?”

Her gaze slanted his way, extreme dislike in her eyes. “There are naked women everywhere.”

Imagining her reaction to his decor, Jackson smiled. “Yeah.” He added with a shrug, “Women's bodies are beautiful.”

She again looked at Dare and Trace. “Have you two seen—”

“It's entertaining,” Dare told her.

Trace smiled.

“Well, I think it's absurd! Every picture, every knick-knack, even a few statues, they're all naked women.”

“I'm a connoisseur,” Jackson told her.

“You're a…” She drew up short, probably remembering that she'd been intimate with him last night, all night from her telling, and that everyone in the room knew it.

Mulish, she crossed her arms. “If I decorate for you, there'll be none of that.”

“You're the designer.” Considering it settled, he turned back to Trace and Dare. “So we're all set?”

Trace nodded. “You can be out of here before dinnertime?”

“No problem on my end.” Trying to be a gentleman, he asked Alani, “You need more time than that to get ready?”

“No.” She smiled. “Because I'm not going anywhere tonight.”

Stubborn. But he'd win her over. “Both Dare and Trace just finished up jobs.”

“Oh?” She didn't hide her confusion.

Jackson nodded. “No matter how small the threat might be, do you really want them distracted with their concerns for you, instead of enjoying their downtime?”

The confusion morphed into resentment. “Dirty pool, Jackson.”

He shrugged. Whenever necessary, he fought dirty. “We're the experts, right?”

“Yes.”

“And we'd prefer that you not be alone until we get a handle on what's going on—so make a choice.”

“What choice?”

“Me.” He nodded toward Dare and Trace. “Or them.”

Her narrowed eyes made her look really mean. Finally she muttered, “Then I guess it's…you.”

Such a grudging concession. Pleased with her, Jackson smoothed his thumb over her cheek. “I promise not to make it a hardship.” He couldn't touch her without the sharpening of awareness, both carnal and emotional.

As they stared at each other, Alani's anger melted away, replaced with breathless understanding.

Dare gave a theatrical cough.

Trace said, “For God's sake, pump the brakes on that, will you, Jackson? We need to make some decisions here.”

Jackson smiled at her and bent and kissed her before she could turn away. With his arm slung around her shoulders, he turned to both men.

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