A Lover's Vow (11 page)

But he'd noticed a number of things. Like how that denim skirt was hugging her delectable ass and the way that crimson blouse was shielding what he figured had to be two magnificent breasts. He couldn't help wondering what she was wearing beneath her skirt and blouse. Satin, lace or both. She would be the type of woman whose bra would have to match whatever panties she wore.

She finally stopped pacing and glanced over at him. They exchanged a long look that let him know she was aware of his sexual state. Her gaze left his eyes to drift downward to his zipper. She rolled her eyes before glaring at him. “How can you think of sex at a time like this?”

He gave her a long, slow perusal from head to toe. “Easily. Do you know what I see whenever I look at you?”

She didn't answer. He figured she was afraid of his response. However, he would tell her, anyway. “What I see whenever I look at you is an orgasm just waiting to happen.”

He couldn't help but smile at the darkening of her cheeks. Wow. He'd made her blush. And was that heat stirring in her eyes? “Do I need to prove my point, Jules?”

She lifted her chin. “Do you mind?”

“Mind what? Having sex with you? It would be my pleasure.”

She closed her eyes and looked up toward his ceiling as if silently counting to ten. Hell, she could count to thirty, and his desire for her wouldn't diminish one iota.

She glanced back at him. “Look, Dalton.”

He stood, feeling frustrated and angry all at once. “No, you look. I didn't invite you here. I don't invite women to my home.”

She placed her hands on her hips. “My being here is not personal.”

“Maybe not on your end, but it is on mine. Do you know how it feels having an itch you can't scratch?”

“That's not my problem.”

He crossed the room in a flash, covered the distance separating them, meeting her face-to-face. “It is your problem, because you owe me.”

“I owe you nothing.”

“You told me to find you, and I did.”

“Yes, but you found me for one thing and one thing only. How do you think that made me feel?”

“It should have made you feel special, knowing any man would go to such lengths.” No need to tell her of the many nights she had haunted his dreams and that before her, he hadn't bothered running after any woman.

“You just don't get it, do you? I came here with a serious agenda, and all you can think about is getting me in your bed?”

Dalton knew he should back off, put his libido in check, but for some reason, he couldn't. At that moment he was too overcome with horniness to think straight. “Oh, getting you just in my bed isn't my fantasy anymore, Jules. I want to get you on that wingback chair, this sofa, my kitchen table, the kitchen counter, up against my refrigerator, on top of my stove, on my stairs, every damned wall in this house and the backseat of my car, if it had one. What I just named are places. And the various positions I'm imagining will blow your mind. I want you. Bad. Do I make myself clear?”

Her eyes were filled with more anger than he'd ever seen before. “Clear as glass.” And then without saying another word, she moved to the coatrack, grabbed her coat, went to the door and stormed out.

* * *

Dalton stood there, feeling like a total ass. Every damned encounter with Jules Bradford turned out to be un-freaking-believable. Why did lust get to have a mind of its own and rule a person's senses? She had come here to talk to him about reopening his father's case, and all he'd thought about was jumping her damned bones...in every damned spot in his house as well as his car.

At least it had stopped raining so she hadn't gotten wet when she'd left. He rubbed his hand down his face and simmered with frustration as he remembered her words:
You found me for one thing and one thing only. How do you think that made me feel?

Shit, any other woman would have felt fucking honored. But then, he wasn't dealing with just any other woman. He was dealing with Jules Bradford, ex-cop, ex-detective, present-day sex goddess, with remarkable eyes, perfectly curvy ass and a pair of gorgeous legs. The same woman who could walk into a room and make heads turn and dicks get hard.

And his was more than hard; it was pounding. He needed to get his mind off what he wouldn't be getting from Jules again tonight, and the best way to do that was by being turbocharged. He grabbed his car keys from the table to take his car out for a spin, but then tossed them back. If he left, that meant Stonewall would follow, and the man shouldn't be inconvenienced just because he was in a horny state.

Dalton sighed as he headed for his bedroom to take off his clothes. This would be another one of those nights when he went to bed feeling needy as hell.

Thirteen

“I
must say, your first dinner party as Mrs. Jace Granger was a great success,” Jules whispered to her sister while glancing around Shana's home. “I'm impressed.”

Shana grinned softly. “Thanks, but I can't claim all the credit, since I had help. Hannah was a godsend. She has all that experience of catering dinner parties for the Grangers over the past many years. And now she's doing it for an entirely new generation.”

“How long has she been working for the Grangers? And this is delicious, by the way,” Jules said, biting into a mini chocolate truffle.

Shana smiled. “That's another Hannah original recipe, and it is delicious. She's been with the Granger family since Jace's dad was a kid. That's why everyone adores her so much. She's a sweetie pie. In addition to cooking all this food, she volunteered to be here tonight, working behind the scenes to make sure everything runs smoothly.”

“Well, just let her know I think she's a wonderful cook,” Jules said, smiling. “I told her that at your wedding, but it won't hurt to tell her again.”

Jules glanced around the living room. She knew some of the people and surmised the others were either business associates of Jace's or family friends. Of course, there were business associates of Shana's in attendance, as well.

She saw her father and Mona talking to an older couple near the fireplace. “Who is that talking to Dad and Mona?”

Shana followed her gaze. “That's Harold and Helen Owens. According to Jace, Mr. Owens and his grandfather were good friends, and they played golf together regularly. They weren't originally on the list of invitees, but Jace ran into Harold last week at the bank and decided to invite them since they weren't in town for our wedding.”

“Well, they evidently have a lot to say. It seems Dad is barely getting a word in. The old woman's mouth is moving a mile a minute,” Jules said, grabbing a couple more truffles from the tray being offered by a passing waitress.

“I meant to ask where you were last night,” Shana said, taking a sip of her apple juice.

“Last night?” Jules asked, glancing around again, refusing to meet her sister's eye.

“Yes. I called you and didn't get an answer even though it was after eleven o'clock.”

Jules knew exactly where she had been at that particular time. But the last thing she would do is let Shana know she'd made a fool of herself yet again by going over to Dalton's place. “Umm, I was probably in the shower or something.”

At that moment, Kent Fairfield rolled up. Kent worked for Shana's company as a troubleshooter. A veteran of the Iraq war, he'd been left paralyzed in both legs by the shrapnel from a missile blast. What Jules admired most about him was that he hadn't let being wheelchair-bound stop him from succeeding in life. He was married and his wife, Marsha, was pregnant with their first child. According to Shana, he was good at his job, and she considered him a key player in her organization and a valuable member of her team. It was Kent's discovery of the wrongdoings at Granger Aeronautics that had saved Jace's life a few months ago.

They had been standing, holding a conversation with Kent for a good ten minutes when Shana looked up and said, “Now this is a surprise. I thought he wasn't coming.”

Following her sister's gaze, Jules glanced toward the foyer, and her gaze connected to Dalton's.

“I wonder why he changed his mind,” Shana mused.

Jules broke eye contact with Dalton, glanced over at her sister and shrugged. “Trust me, I have no idea.”

* * *

Dalton wasn't surprised when his brothers approached him with wariness lining their eyes. “Dalton, we thought you weren't coming tonight,” Jace said, taking a sip of his drink and eyeing him closely.

“You said as much,” Caden chimed in.

Dalton shrugged. “Can't a man change his mind?”

“Depends,” Jace replied, looking at him over the rim of his glass. “Why did you change your mind?”

Dalton grabbed a drink off the tray on the coffee table. “For a number of reasons, which I don't intend to get into now with the two of you.”

“That might be the case,” Jace said in a firm tone. “But I expect you to be on your best behavior, because I'm sure you know Jules is here.”

Yes, he knew, which was why he'd decided to come, after all. “Whatever. Now if you guys will excuse me, I think I'll mosey over to Shana and say hello.”

Caden touched his arm. “Jules is with Shana.”

The corners of his lips tilted into a grin. “I know. Imagine that.” And then he walked off, knowing his brothers were watching his every move. He even heard one of them mutter a low curse.

Halfway across the room he was stopped by a couple that knew him, but he didn't immediately remember them until they told him their names. Damn, the Owenses looked
old
. But then he figured since they'd been friends of his grandparents back in the day, they should look old. It had been close to ten years since he'd seen them. How had they aged that much in ten years?

Of course, they had to travel down memory lane and remind him of all those things he did as a kid. Out of respect, he listened and did very little talking. Not that they seemed to notice, since they were the ones keeping the conversation going.

“Is it true what we heard about you?” Mrs. Owens leaned in to ask. He snapped back to attention. He'd been distracted when he noticed Jules was no longer talking to Shana but was now engaged in conversation with some man. Who was that guy? In fact, who
were
all these people here tonight?

He smiled down at Helen Owens. “It depends on what you heard.”

“That you're more of a ladies' man than either of your brothers.”

He wondered where the hell she'd been living, since that had always been the case. “Yes, I guess that's true,” he said, trying to keep his smile in place.

“What about you?” Harold Owens then asked. “Marriage in your future plans?”

Dalton had to bite his lip to keep from saying,
Hell, no
.
Triple hell, no.
Instead, in a respectful tone, he said, “No, sir. Marriage is not in my future plans.” Then, making an excuse about needing to talk to Shana, he quickly moved on.

* * *

Shana watched her brother-in-law head over in her direction as if he had fire under his feet. She wondered what his problem was, but with Dalton you could never tell. The reason his features appeared all too serious couldn't be because Jules was here. He'd known she would be. In fact, it was his presence that was a surprise.

She glanced past him to where her husband stood, talking to a group of people. Their gazes connected, and Jace shrugged broad shoulders, letting her know he had no idea what was going on with his brother. That meant it was up to her to find out.

“Shana,” Dalton said, giving her a hug.

“Dalton. Glad you changed your mind and decided to come.”

He nodded, taking a sip of whatever he was drinking while glancing around. “Nice crowd.”

“Thanks.”

“Who are these people, anyway?” he asked, frowning.

She countered his frown with a smile. “A mixture of family, friends and both my business associates and Jace's. And, of course, you have those who took it upon themselves to bring a guest. So there are a few people here Jace and I don't even know.”

Dalton's frown deepened. “Considering everything, do you think that's wise?”

She smiled. “We're safe if that's why you're asking. I'm in a house with two ex-cops, two bodyguards and an FBI agent.” The FBI agent she was referring to was Marcel Eaton, an ex-cop turned federal agent who had worked with her dad in Boston. Marcel, who had also moved to Charlottesville from Boston, had been the agent who handled the Granger Aeronautics trade secrets violations and embezzlement a few months ago when four arrests were made. More currently, he was investigating a Granger Aeronautics employee, whose death by suicide was now suspect.

“Quasar and Striker are here?” Dalton asked, glancing around again.

“Yes. They thought it would be best if they worked the party from the inside while Stonewall kept a watch on the outside. There they are, coming in off the patio.”

Dalton turned, saw the two men in business suits, and chuckled. “Hey, they're blending in well.”

“I think so, too.”

Dalton's gaze raked over her. “You're beginning to look pregnant.”

Was that censure she heard in his voice? Shana held back a laugh. “I look pregnant because I
am
pregnant. It was going to happen sooner or later, Dalton.”

“Yes, I suppose,” he said, as if he wasn't truly convinced. He glanced around again. “So where is Jules?”

Shana considered his question and couldn't help pondering the reason for it. “Mingling somewhere, I suppose. Why do you ask?”

“No reason.”

Shana saw the flash of a smile that touched his lips and wondered whether there was a private joke. “Jules is surprised you came tonight when you said you wouldn't,” she said, watching him closely. “And to be quite honest, so am I.”

Dalton gave her the smooth grin that she was certain could make some women drool. “You should know by now that I'm a man full of surprises. I think I'll mingle, as well. See you later.”

He moved to walk off but turned back and smiled. “By the way, nice party, Shana.”

* * *

“And how long have you been living in Charlottesville, Jules?”

Jules glanced over her glass at the man who'd sort of latched on to her a few moments ago. And he hadn't wasted any time suggesting they take a stroll on the patio that overlooked a beautiful lake. His name was Gary Coughlin. He wasn't bad to look at; in his late forties he was slightly older than the men who normally held her interest. But he was a man, and it appeared he had all working body parts. Hell, she'd even allow the blue pill if it came to that.

“A few years,” she said, deciding not to get more specific than that. No need to give or receive too much information. “Now, tell me again how you know Jace and Shana.” When she'd asked the first time, she recalled that he never got around to answering.

“I never met them before tonight, actually. I'm fairly new to town and came with a friend who's a business associate of Jace's. Ron is CEO of Zimmons Aviation Supply Company.”

Jules nodded. “And what brought you to Charlottesville?”

“Needing a change of scenery after a divorce. I started a retail company right out of college and recently sold it for a nice profit. Now I'm free to just kick back and enjoy life.”

And enjoy women.
Jules smiled at the thought of that. “Good for you.” She took a sip of her drink and then asked, “So what are your plans when you leave here tonight?” Although she wasn't one who made a habit of indulging in one-night stands, there were times a woman had to do what a woman had to do. Especially when her toys weren't doing their job.

Gary looked at her and smiled, evidently picking up on her hint of what she had in mind. “I don't have any plans for later. Any ideas?”

Do you want to see the list?
Being in Dalton's presence twice in one week had worked on certain parts of her body. And then last night, his rattling off all the places in his home where he wanted to have sex with her hadn't helped. And what kind of man would tell a woman that whenever he looked at her he saw an orgasm just waiting to happen? Unfortunately, that's all she'd been thinking about since last night. Orgasms. Multiple ones. Explosive ones. The beat-your-head-against-the-bedpost kind. She needed one of those quick, fast and dirty.

“So this is where you ran off to, Jules.”

She muttered a low curse and turned around. Why was Dalton pretending he'd been looking for her? She drew in a deep breath and intended to be pleasant even if it killed her. “I was enjoying a conversation with Gary. Gary Coughlin, this is Dalton Granger. Jace's brother,” she said, introducing the two men.

They exchanged handshakes, and it was obvious they were also sizing each other up. She hated admitting it, but she was, too. And as much as she didn't want to admit it, Dalton had taken over the show.

“So you're the third brother,” Gary said, smiling.

“Yes, and you know Jace how?” Dalton wanted to know.

Jules rolled her eyes and fought to hold her tongue while Gary provided the same information he'd given her earlier. “Well, Gary, if you don't mind, I need to talk to Jules privately for a minute.”

Jules was tempted to give Dalton a few harsh words then and there, but figured Gary shouldn't be party to such a tongue-lashing, so she smiled sweetly up at him. “Gary, we will definitely finish our conversation later. What Dalton and I need to discuss should take less than a minute.”

Dalton's piercing brown eyes turned on her, and the message she read in them all but said he'd be damned if that was true. With a lot of effort, she tightened her lips until she was sure Gary was out of hearing range. Then she turned on Dalton. “You've got
one
minute.”