Название: Savor the Danger
Автор: Lori Foster
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon M&B
isbn: 9781472011572
isbn:
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,” СКАЧАТЬ