Releasing her neck, Jackson closed her slender fingers in his and moved her hand to safer ground—on the seat between them.

One-handed, he turned a corner, not directly toward Alani’s house, but rather to where he’d left his car in a private garage.

She didn’t notice.

He knew she’d wanted to go by her workplace, too, but he didn’t think he could handle it. Not now. Not with the way she twisted him inside out.

“Go on,” he prompted.

“Suddenly, you sort of…broke.” She rushed her words between hastened breaths, as if the retelling affected her as much as it did him. “You pulled me away and came down on the floor with me and then…”

“Then?”

“You were inside me and it was hard and wild and…” She let out a sigh. “Pretty wonderful.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

OKAY, TIME TO REFOCUS.

Jackson adjusted his jeans and shifted in his seat. Knowing Alani watched his every move, her expression anxious, he again reached for her hand and brought it to his mouth.

Against her soft skin, he growled, “I’m going to love getting inside you again.” God willing, that’d be tonight. Or better yet, before dinner. “But to keep from embarrassing myself, we gotta change the subject, pronto.”

She clutched at his hand—until he pulled into the private garage. “What are you doing?”

“Fetching other transportation.” He rolled down the window and pushed in a code on the security entrance. A gate rolled up, and he drove into the darkened garage.

Looking around in surprise, Alani realized they weren’t exactly “down around the corner,” as he’d claimed.

Her accusing gaze swung back to his. “Okay, Jackson Davidson, so now would be a good time for you to start explaining.”

She deliberately stressed his fictitious name, so he addressed that first. “Settle down, woman. You knew I used an alias.”

All her soft, heated sensuality of a minute before coalesced into temper. “Jackson Davidson,” she repeated with derision. “How did you come up with that?”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters because now I’m wondering if I even know your real name.” She sat back in her seat, arms crossed, expression stark. “Now I’m wondering if I know anything about you that’s real.”

His own black mood crowded in. “You know I want you.” He leaned into her anger. “And you know I’ll protect you. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“Is there a woman you don’t want?” She poked at his chest. “And as to protection, Dare or my own brother could see to that.”

She just had to keep pushing him, infuriating him with unfamiliar feelings—like possessiveness. His voice lowered to match his frustration. “Damn it, woman, I haven’t wanted anyone else since meeting you.”

The harsh words echoed in the cavernous garage.

Alani blinked big eyes at him. “Really?”

God help him, she made him nuts. “Dare and Trace don’t need to hover over you, because I’m on it. Me and only me. Get used to it.” And with that forceful command, he kissed her harder than he meant to—and was surprised when she kissed him back.

Nothing could have gentled him quicker, smothered him with more emotion, than a reminder of how much she wanted him, too.

With a soft sound of acceptance, she gave in to him, and Jackson again had to fight himself to regroup. “Easy, love.” He kissed her bottom lip, the corner of her mouth. “Let’s get to your place and then we can pick up from here.”

CAUGHT BETWEEN relief that Jackson hadn’t noted the lack of a condom in her retelling of their lovemaking, and annoyance that he’d outright lied to her over where he’d parked, Alani hadn’t been prepared for the impact of his kiss.

But he had an astounding effect on her. Like it or not, she had to accept that where Jackson Savor was concerned, she had no willpower.

He said that he hadn’t wanted anyone else since meeting her. She pushed her hair from her face and dragged in a deep breath.

“Is your last name really Savor? Or is that a deception, too?”

Taken aback, he gazed at her, irate, turned on, maybe even a little lost.

No, what was she thinking? A man of Jackson’s caliber, a mercenary with his skill set, did not feel lost over romantic conflicts.

“Yeah, that’s my name. Don’t spread it around, okay?” On a wave of irritability, he snatched his hat from the backseat, opened the car door and got out. After slamming the hat onto his head, he did more adjusting to his jeans, making it impossible for her not to notice his erection.

He leaned back into the car.

Dark green eyes direct, voice sharp, he said, “For your information, this was one of those precautionary measures that, at the time, I figured you didn’t need to know.”

“And now?”

“Hell, woman, the way you’ve kept me twisted, the location of my car was not uppermost in my mind.”

Alani considered that and understood. “Okay.”

He started to relax.

“You’ll tell me how you and Trace met?”

He didn’t even try to hide his groan. He even managed to look long-suffering.

She didn’t need to be hit over the head. “Forget I asked. God forbid I dig out a state secret, or push you past your comfort zone over something so—”

“Fine.” One hand on the car roof, one on the open door, he dropped his head forward in a hangdog pose. “I’ll tell you when we get to your place, okay?”