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“Well…yes.” With renewed annoyance, Alani glared at Jackson again. “She answered your door for you.”
Jackson’s brows shot up. “Where the hell was I?”
“On the couch.” She poked him in the chest. “You were all lounged back, comfortable, your feet up on the coffee table. I was ready to leave since you appeared otherwise involved, but then you got up when you saw it was me at the door, and the woman said she had to go anyway, and…”
“Jesus, Alani.”
“Don’t use that tone with me.” She turned her cannon on her brother again. “Did Jackson do anything you haven’t done?”
“He was with another woman!”
She started to bolt off Jackson’s lap, but when he held on to her hips, she subsided, too anxious to fight her brother to quibble over her position. “So? We didn’t have any kind of understanding—”
“We do now,” Jackson announced, just in case she’d missed that important fact.
“—and he said he was thrilled to see me.”
Whoa. On a gut level, Jackson rejected that wording. “Thrilled?” Sure, he might have been thrilled, but would he really have been that obvious?
Dare grinned, shook his head and repeated, “Thrilled,” with clear mockery.
“And that’s all it took?” Trace asked.
She strangled on a deep inhale. “Are you calling me easy?”
“No!” Now Trace looked appalled. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“Jackson’s sincerity was enough for me to stay. And then…well…”
They all waited.
“Oh, forget it!” And this time she got away from Jackson. “It happened, okay? Get over it so we can concentrate on the fact that he was drugged.”
“No one is forgetting that, hon.”
She glared at Dare. “We need to know who she is.”
“And if she worked alone,” Jackson said.
“Doesn’t seem likely.” Silently fuming, Trace stepped up close to frown down at Alani. “What about your financier?”
Oh, hell. Jackson had forgotten all about Marc Tobin. Sitting forward, he stated, “That’s over.” Or at least it better be.
At the same time, Alani said, “I broke things off with him.”
Tension washed out of Jackson’s shoulders, leaving him with a certain sort of contentment. The persistent throbbing in his temples faded.
Trace looked from Alani to Jackson and back again. “Since when?”
“A little more than a week ago.”
A whole week? And she hadn’t come to him right away? Damn, had she been grieving over the breakup?
“Did you give him a reason?” Dare wanted to know.
“None of your business.”
Trace brought her chin back around. “Sorry, sweetheart. Maybe you don’t know how this works, but under the circumstances, we need to hear everything. It’s the only way we can really analyze the potential danger.”
“You actually think Marc could be involved?”
“He’d have reason to be furious with Jackson—or with you.”
Surprise held her silent for a heartbeat before she scoffed. “You think I’m in danger? That’s absurd. Jackson is the one who was drugged.”
Unable to hide his smirk, Trace said, “Getting all the facts is the only way we can protect Jackson, too.”
Oh, now, that burned his ass. “I don’t need—”
Before Jackson could finish protesting, Alani faltered. “But…Marc wouldn’t have had anything to do with—”
“Jackson getting doped? Probably not, so don’t get alarmed. But I want you to tell me everything anyway.”
Jackson noticed so many things—the way her lips trembled, the new tautness in her shoulders, her pallor and shallow breaths.
“Trace,” he said low. “Back off, will you?” Sure, she needed to be sheltered, but scaring her wouldn’t accomplish anything.
Trace narrowed his eyes and cupped Alani’s shoulder. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, honey. This is just a precaution.”
She swallowed hard and averted her gaze from one and all. “I told him I was thinking of seeing…someone else.”
Dare put his elbows on his knees. “You mentioned Jackson to him?”
“No, of course not.” She shook her head. “That would have been needlessly rude.”
Since Alani was the epitome of graciousness, Trace accepted that explanation. “Did anyone know you were coming to see Jackson yesterday?”
“Jackson knew.”
Doing a double take, Jackson asked, “I did?”
“I called you.” Her sad smile came and went. “But I suppose you’ve forgotten that, too. I called you before leaving work.”
“Anyone overhear that call?” Dare asked.
“I was in my office, so I doubt it.” And then, head high and shoulders back, she turned to leave the room. “I’m going to put on coffee.”
“Alani…” Knowing the idea of danger had shaken her, Jackson started to stand.
“No.” She stopped him by raising an imperious hand. She pointed a finger at the food she’d brought him and gave a succinct order. “Eat.”
No one gave him orders.
Jackson considered her. She’d left her rich boyfriend in the dust. She’d freely defended him to her brother.
She’d slept with him, whether he remembered it or not.
Overall, he was pretty damn happy with her, so he gave her a salute. “Yes, darlin’. Whatever you say.”
CHAPTER THREE
IN THE KITCHEN, Alani turned on the radio. Loud.
Accommodating them? Or tuning them out?
Didn’t matter. Jackson sat forward. “Let me blow this up your skirt— I’ve met the bastard.”
Dare raised a brow. “Her boyfriend?”
“Her ex-boyfriend. And yeah. He knows me, knows my face and first name.”
“How the hell did that happen?”
Jackson flagged a hand. “I was chasing her, nothing new in that.”
Trace snarled. “And you met him?”
“Yeah. Unless he’s dumber than I think, he felt the chemistry between Alani and me.” Jackson challenged Trace. “It’s there and you know it.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Trace turned to Dare. “Jackson’s been dogging her heels for a while now.”
Dare looked between them. “You knew about this?”
“Yeah.” Letting out a breath, Trace rubbed the back of his neck. “I knew.”
“Wasn’t a secret,” Jackson said. “I told him. But shit’s different now.”
Deadpan, Dare asked, “You think so?”
Everyone kept their voices low.
“Hell, I was just hoping to get her to redo my place for me so I could get closer to her.” Jackson ignored Dare’s raised brows and Trace’s annoyance. “But that didn’t work out, and I figured I was back to square one, and now—”
Trace cut him off. “Jackson was keeping tabs on her, too.”
That sounded bad, so Jackson explained. “With what she’s been through, I didn’t want the financier to do anything to make her uncomfortable.”
“Like chase her?” Dare asked.
The taunt put Jackson on edge. “Like pressuring her. And you can bet he did.” Could the financier have pressured her more than Jackson had just minutes ago? Shit.
“Why do you assume so?” Dare asked.
“Look at her!” This time Jackson thrust his hand toward the kitchen where, hopefully, Alani couldn’t hear them. “She’s so smokin’ hot, most guys wouldn’t be able to help themselves.”
Dare choked. “She’s the smaller, more female version of Trace.”
What an appalling thought. “Not even close,” Jackson denied. “You see her like a kid sister, same as Trace does.” Sure, they had the same coloring of pale hair and bright hazel eyes. That combo might be noticeable on Trace, but on Alani it was outright striking, fascinating every guy who met her. “I see her differently.”
Trace rolled his eyes. “But still you’re noble enough to give her space?”
“Uh…” He’d thought so. When she’d hesitated to be alone with him, shying away from his interest, he’d walked away rather than torture himself. But this morning he had awakened with her naked. And since then, knowing she’d wanted him enough to sleep with him, he’d been on the make big-time.
Trace and Dare waited.
Disgust at his heavy-handed tactics hit Jackson like a ton of bricks. “Butt out, damn it.”
“I should just kill you now and be done with it,” Trace grumbled.
Jackson ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, maybe.”
Dare coughed at that admission. “You trust him, Trace, and you know it.”
“With my back,” Trace snapped. “Not with my sister.”
Shaking his head at them both, Dare said, “Tell me about the meeting you had with the financier.”
“His name is Marc Tobin,” Trace said.
Jackson curled his lip. Even the guy’s name annoyed him. “I dropped in on her, but she was due for a date with the idiot, and I didn’t bow out in time.”
“Probably on purpose,” Trace accused.
Jackson shrugged. So he’d lingered. So what? “He showed up, and you know Alani. Always so polite.”
Dare choked. “She introduced the two of you?”
To Jackson’s mind, Dare’s humor was sadly misplaced. He gave one sharp nod. “Yeah.”
“Did you act like an ass?” Trace asked.
“You mean did I pulverize him? Nah.” But he’d wanted to. “I’m sure I mean-mugged him a little. He’s just so…slick, it was hard not to, you know?”
It surprised Jackson when Trace agreed. “Slick, and too rich.”
“You’re rich,” Jackson reminded him.
Dare reached over to slug him in the shoulder. “Take what you can get, will you?”
