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.
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