Trace of Fever - Lori Foster [140]
And she saw the love in his eyes.
“Okay, then.” After a lifetime of anticipating Murray’s death, she feared she’d lose herself to the need for vengeance. Instead, she’d gained so much more. “Another first for me, and thanks to you, they just keep getting better and better.”
“For the rest of our lives.”
Now, with Trace, that idea held promise and contentment. Her mother had never found peace, but Priss had. She only wished everyone could find the same happiness.
EPILOGUE
JACKSON STOOD QUIETLY as Alani came into the house. Unlike the other women, she didn’t wear a swimsuit. Shame. He’d love to see her in one. Everyone had duly celebrated Trace’s engagement, and Alani seemed taken with Priss—but then, who wouldn’t be? Priss was funny, smart, cute and—luckily for Trace—stacked.
Unaware of Jackson, Alani stopped to look out the patio doors. She looked…wistful. Like maybe she wanted to take part, but couldn’t.
In so many ways, despite being kidnapped by flesh peddlers, or maybe because of that, she was still an innocent. At just-barely twenty-three, she acted much older.
Like a virgin spinster.
Every night, in his dreams, they burned up the sheets.
Here, in reality, she avoided him. She avoided involvement.
But he’d get her over that. Somehow.
Suddenly Priss came in, wet hair sleek down her back, rivulets of water trailing between her breasts. She spotted Jackson right off and, after smiling at Alani, asked them both, “Why aren’t you guys coming down to swim?”
Alani jerked around to stare at Jackson with big eyes.
His crooked smile told her that he had her in his sights. “I was just about to ask Alani that.”
Priss laughed. “You’re still dressed.”
“I can undress fast enough.” He looked at Alani. “What about you?”
Her lips parted. “No, I…didn’t bring a suit.”
“Pity. Maybe we could move up to the cove and skinny-dip in private?”
Pointing a finger at him, Priss said, “Behave, you reprobate!” And then to Alani, “Beware of that one.”
Still watching him, Alani nodded.
Priss put her hands on her hips and considered the situation. “Molly might have a spare swimsuit. I’d offer to let you borrow one from me, but this is the only one I have.”
“It looks great on you, too,” Jackson told her.
“Ha. Trace doesn’t like it.”
“Because you look naked,” Jackson told her.
Priss went three shades of red. Her eyes narrowed. “Ever mention that again, and I’ll throw you in the lake and drown you.”
He pretended to button his lips, but he couldn’t stop grinning at her.
Not being a dummy, Priss looked at them both, shook her head, and said, “Well, I’m heading back down. I’ll tell the others that you’ll be joining us soon.” With a careless wave, she ducked back out the door.
Jackson moved closer to Alani. She backed up.
So he stopped. “What’s wrong?”
“Why did Priss blush?” Her brows came down. “What’s going on between you two?”
“Nothing.” He didn’t appreciate her subtle accusation. “You think I’d disrespect your brother’s claim?”
“His claim?”
“Now, don’t go getting all riled. You know what I mean.” Jackson tried to dig himself out of a quickly yawning hole. “He and Priss are together. I get that. I wouldn’t do anything inappropriate with her. Not that she’d be willing anyway—”
“So you did try?”
“No!”
“Then why did she turn scarlet?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s still embarrassed because I saw her—there was this situation…”
Alani crossed her arms.
To hell with it. Jackson moved closer and if she didn’t like it, too bad. But this time she didn’t retreat. She just stared at him with something akin to challenge. “Look, Priss still gets red-faced because I had to steal her out of the shower and hoist her out a narrow window.”
Alani’s mouth fell open.
“She was buck-ass, and you can believe me, it was awkward for both of us.” He thought about it, and couldn’t help but grin. “Probably more so for her, but it wasn’t what I was expecting, either.”
Alani continued to stare at him in surprise. “Unbelievable.”
“Tell me about it.” Trace still looked riled