Savor the Danger
Page 28
He waited, and she nodded.
Contentment settled over him. “So what’s the problem then? What objections did you give me?”
Alani hesitated. She looked at her packages, now stacked on the table, at the half-empty coffee carafe, everywhere except at him. “I can’t do this in the middle of the kitchen.”
Imagination on hyperdrive, Jackson nudged her closer. “This?”
“Talk. About this stuff.” She eyed the kitchen table. “Not that. Not what you’re thinking.”
She knew what he thought? Why was she thinking it? Had they made use of the table at his place? Fun.
“Oh, I dunno.” He bent to kiss her throat. “I think you’d make a real tasty treat.”
She bolted away from him. “I need a drink.”
Left empty-armed, Jackson propped a shoulder against the wall. “You think that’s a good idea?” Did alcohol loosen her up? God help him.
“I mean something cold.” She opened the refrigerator. “Tea or something.”
“Nothing that’s been opened already.” He wouldn’t risk the grim possibility that whoever had drugged his drink, had managed to tamper with anything at her place, too.
Frowning, she stepped back from the refrigerator, moved to her sink and picked up an empty container. “Dare must’ve dumped everything.”
Course he had. “Why don’t you drink a cola? Or better yet, take a seat and I’ll mix up a new pitcher of tea for you.” He pulled out a chair from the table.
“Oh.” Realization brought her around to him again, the empty tea pitcher in her hand. She ignored the chair. “That’s why you asked about the can of cola?”
“Gotta be careful.”
Slowly, she put the container in the sink. She took a deep breath, then searched his face. “You think someone might have been in my house.”
A statement, not a question. “Doubtful.” It would be tricky, keeping alert while downplaying the possible danger. “But you know how it is. Why take a chance?” As a rule, he never did. With Alani, he’d use extra care.
Something passed over her features, something she tried hard to hide. She nodded. “You’re all so cautious.”
In their line of work, they had to be. “I have an idea. Instead of you showering and settling in for the night, why don’t we go grab something for dinner, maybe rent a movie.” It’d give her a chance to shake off the unease, and him a chance to lighten the sexual tension.
Her eyes flared. “But I thought…”
That they’d be in bed together within minutes? Wondering if she’d say it, Jackson waited, his smile banked, his lust churning.
Tucking her hair behind her ear, she shrugged. “All right. Sure.” She rinsed the pitcher with unnecessary verve. “If you don’t mind, maybe I could stop by the office, too.”
Jackson approached her, and when he asked, “Why?” from right behind her, she jumped.
Not turning to face him, she dried her hands on a dish towel. “If I can’t take calls on my cell, I need to set up the phone there to forward calls to my landline.”
“Sure, we can do that.” Drawing her back against his chest, he rested his crossed hands over her stomach. “We can do anything you want, long as you don’t try to go off anywhere without me.”
For only a moment, she rested her head against his shoulder and put her hands over his. “You don’t mind?”
“You’re not a prisoner, honey. In fact, why don’t you just think of me as a hired escort? You call the shots.”
She went still. “Interesting concept.” Turning in his arms, she smiled like an imp. “Will it lacerate your male ego for me to ask if you’re up to it?”
“I’m up.”
Her mouth twitched. “You know, I might take advantage of all this willingness.”
“A guy can hope.”
She laughed softly. “All right, if you’re sure you feel okay now.”
“I’ll enjoy getting out.”
“Then just let me go freshen up and we can leave.”
When she started away, Jackson followed her.
She stopped in the hallway. “What are you doing?”
“Which room is yours?”
“Last room on the left. Why?”
Jackson moved her aside and strode ahead of her into the room. He stopped short just inside the door, struck by how much the room looked like her—neat, organized, soft and fresh. Very female. But not too perfect.
Flowers sat on a dresser, and from one drawer a pair of pale blue panties peeked out. Jackson grinned.
Squawking in outrage, Alani rushed in behind him. “What are you doing?” She zipped around the room rearranging, tucking away, closing and covering.
“I wanted to get a lay of the house.” Undisturbed by her fervor, he opened the closet and took a peek, went to the window and checked the lock.
“Get out.”
“Sorry, no.” He opened the door to her connecting bathroom. A slinky bra that couldn’t possibly do more than decorate hung over the shower rod. Next to the sink, a toothbrush stood in a glass by a dispenser of scented hand soap.
Her tub was large enough for two, if they stuck close.
“Jackson…” she warned.
An oval, fringed rug of cream and pale blue decorated the floor and matched the curtain on the shower and window. He fingered the fine material of the curtain. “Pretty.”
Contentment settled over him. “So what’s the problem then? What objections did you give me?”
Alani hesitated. She looked at her packages, now stacked on the table, at the half-empty coffee carafe, everywhere except at him. “I can’t do this in the middle of the kitchen.”
Imagination on hyperdrive, Jackson nudged her closer. “This?”
“Talk. About this stuff.” She eyed the kitchen table. “Not that. Not what you’re thinking.”
She knew what he thought? Why was she thinking it? Had they made use of the table at his place? Fun.
“Oh, I dunno.” He bent to kiss her throat. “I think you’d make a real tasty treat.”
She bolted away from him. “I need a drink.”
Left empty-armed, Jackson propped a shoulder against the wall. “You think that’s a good idea?” Did alcohol loosen her up? God help him.
“I mean something cold.” She opened the refrigerator. “Tea or something.”
“Nothing that’s been opened already.” He wouldn’t risk the grim possibility that whoever had drugged his drink, had managed to tamper with anything at her place, too.
Frowning, she stepped back from the refrigerator, moved to her sink and picked up an empty container. “Dare must’ve dumped everything.”
Course he had. “Why don’t you drink a cola? Or better yet, take a seat and I’ll mix up a new pitcher of tea for you.” He pulled out a chair from the table.
“Oh.” Realization brought her around to him again, the empty tea pitcher in her hand. She ignored the chair. “That’s why you asked about the can of cola?”
“Gotta be careful.”
Slowly, she put the container in the sink. She took a deep breath, then searched his face. “You think someone might have been in my house.”
A statement, not a question. “Doubtful.” It would be tricky, keeping alert while downplaying the possible danger. “But you know how it is. Why take a chance?” As a rule, he never did. With Alani, he’d use extra care.
Something passed over her features, something she tried hard to hide. She nodded. “You’re all so cautious.”
In their line of work, they had to be. “I have an idea. Instead of you showering and settling in for the night, why don’t we go grab something for dinner, maybe rent a movie.” It’d give her a chance to shake off the unease, and him a chance to lighten the sexual tension.
Her eyes flared. “But I thought…”
That they’d be in bed together within minutes? Wondering if she’d say it, Jackson waited, his smile banked, his lust churning.
Tucking her hair behind her ear, she shrugged. “All right. Sure.” She rinsed the pitcher with unnecessary verve. “If you don’t mind, maybe I could stop by the office, too.”
Jackson approached her, and when he asked, “Why?” from right behind her, she jumped.
Not turning to face him, she dried her hands on a dish towel. “If I can’t take calls on my cell, I need to set up the phone there to forward calls to my landline.”
“Sure, we can do that.” Drawing her back against his chest, he rested his crossed hands over her stomach. “We can do anything you want, long as you don’t try to go off anywhere without me.”
For only a moment, she rested her head against his shoulder and put her hands over his. “You don’t mind?”
“You’re not a prisoner, honey. In fact, why don’t you just think of me as a hired escort? You call the shots.”
She went still. “Interesting concept.” Turning in his arms, she smiled like an imp. “Will it lacerate your male ego for me to ask if you’re up to it?”
“I’m up.”
Her mouth twitched. “You know, I might take advantage of all this willingness.”
“A guy can hope.”
She laughed softly. “All right, if you’re sure you feel okay now.”
“I’ll enjoy getting out.”
“Then just let me go freshen up and we can leave.”
When she started away, Jackson followed her.
She stopped in the hallway. “What are you doing?”
“Which room is yours?”
“Last room on the left. Why?”
Jackson moved her aside and strode ahead of her into the room. He stopped short just inside the door, struck by how much the room looked like her—neat, organized, soft and fresh. Very female. But not too perfect.
Flowers sat on a dresser, and from one drawer a pair of pale blue panties peeked out. Jackson grinned.
Squawking in outrage, Alani rushed in behind him. “What are you doing?” She zipped around the room rearranging, tucking away, closing and covering.
“I wanted to get a lay of the house.” Undisturbed by her fervor, he opened the closet and took a peek, went to the window and checked the lock.
“Get out.”
“Sorry, no.” He opened the door to her connecting bathroom. A slinky bra that couldn’t possibly do more than decorate hung over the shower rod. Next to the sink, a toothbrush stood in a glass by a dispenser of scented hand soap.
Her tub was large enough for two, if they stuck close.
“Jackson…” she warned.
An oval, fringed rug of cream and pale blue decorated the floor and matched the curtain on the shower and window. He fingered the fine material of the curtain. “Pretty.”
