“No one can hear you, honey.” But then to answer her question, he said, “At the next cross street, down from the corner. Sleek silver sedan. Darkened windows. They pulled up, stopped, and haven’t budged in all the time we’ve been out here.”

Alani nodded. Pulling away from him, she tucked her hair behind her ear, and—oh so casually—glanced toward the car and away again. Hands on her thighs, muscles tensed, she struggled to sound as unconcerned as Jackson. “What if they follow us when we leave?”

Jackson set his hat back on his head. “Then we’ll lose them.” He put the car in gear and backed out.

“Just like that?”

“Yup.”

“You won’t get their license plate number?”

“Sure I will. And Trace or Dare will check it out. But it could be nothing.”

“You don’t believe that.” Already she felt she could read him, and while he might act all nonchalant, he was on alert. “Do you?”

“I believe it’s all under control.” After pulling out onto the street, he glanced in the rearview mirror and drove forward. “Now, about you and me and that lousy morning after.”

He couldn’t be serious. “Are they following?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

Dismayed, she looked back, not surprised to see them closing in.

“How many times did I have sex with you?”

Thrown a little, she did a double-take. “I don’t know.”

He groaned. “Way to wound me, woman. You’re saying it was so forgettable, you couldn’t keep track?”

Ready to clout him, Alani growled, “Five times.”

“Five! No shit?” He grinned. “That’s a personal best for me.”

He could be so outrageous. “I told you, you were very enthusiastic.”

“I think it’s more that you’re so irresistible.”

“Not likely.” As she watched him, Jackson glanced in the rearview mirror several times. “No one has ever thought so before, but from what I understand, you’ve always gone overboard when it comes to sex.”

“Nah. Who you been talking to anyway?” He made a sound and repeated, “Overboard,” as if such a thing didn’t exist in relation to sexual indulgence. “I bet you’ve always been a hot little number, but with Trace’s eagle eye, all the interested guys were probably afraid to come calling.”

Hot little number? “You make me sound like a race car.” When Jackson turned the corner, she checked her side-view mirror and saw the car continue going straight. Her relief was so great, she slumped in her seat. “They’re not following anymore.”

“Nope.” Jackson removed the hat and tossed it to the backseat. She noted that he seemed no less alert, though. “We’ll get back to your hotness in a minute.”

She wouldn’t hold her breath.

Fishing his cell phone from his pocket, Jackson pushed one button and put it to his ear. After another glance at her, he said, “Just shed a silver BMW sedan. Ritzy. Four-door. Tinted windows. License plate Echo-Lima-four-six-Delta-Bravo.” He listened a second, glanced at Alani again and said, “Doubtful.” He nodded. “You betcha.”

After closing the phone, he put it back in his pocket.

“Trace?”

“Yup.” He continued to check the mirrors, the road, the area around them.

“What’s doubtful?”

“That any guy who meets you doesn’t want you. Even if he doesn’t tell you so, believe me, if he’s straight, he’s thinking about getting you naked.”

What he said was so far removed from what she’d asked, and so removed from her reality, that it threw her. “That’s—”

“You have a really fine body. Did I tell you that last night?”

Not that exactly, but he’d given her comparable compliments all night long. She didn’t get it any more now than she had then. “I’m not real curvy.” She glanced down at her own mediocre chest. “And compared to Priss and Molly—”

“No, whoa, hey, don’t go there.” Discomfort had him shifting his shoulders. “Priss and Molly are married to friends, so discussing their boobs is over the line. Can’t do it.”

He appeared so horrified that Alani snickered. “Makes you uncomfortable, does it?”

“Bad protocol, that’s all.” He turned on the road that would lead to the commercial area nearby. “Let’s just say you’re all three lookers but in different ways, okay?”

“You have to admit they’re both well-endowed.”

“I guess.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, though, because they aren’t you.”

Ahhh… Her heart tumbled over. That was about the nicest thing any man had ever said to her. She reached across the seat and put a hand on his thigh. “You’re so curious about what you did to me.”

He stilled with sensual awareness. “Yeah?”

Beneath her teasing fingers, his thigh tightened. “Don’t you want to know what I did to you?”

“What you…?” On an indrawn breath, he flashed her a hot look—and the silver BMW appeared again, this time coming toward them.

“How did they—”

“Hold on.” Barreling straight through a red light, the car crossed lanes and sped toward them.