A Lover's Vow (17 page)

“Boy, did I need that,” Shep said, releasing Carson's lips. He hadn't known she was visiting him today, and when Ambrose had come to the library to get him, Shep had been anxious to get to the room where he knew she was waiting. As usual, Ambrose had left them alone for an attorney-client consultation, when the guard had known it would be more than that.

Shep knew Ambrose always allowed them more private time than was strictly permitted, thus giving them the opportunity to engage in conjugal visits if they so desired. But, so far, he hadn't taken advantage of that. Carson deserved more than a quickie based on lust, and he intended to make sure she got what she deserved, even if it meant waiting until he was eligible for parole. She'd always told him she could wait because she loved him, and he knew with every bone in his body that he loved her. He'd admitted to his sons that he loved her the last time they had visited. They hadn't seemed surprised, because he knew Carson was beautiful both inside and out, and they knew it, too.

“And why did you need that, Mr. Granger?” she asked in a teasing tone. “Bad day?”

“The worst. Milligan and Davis were at it again today. I swear they're worse than Striker and Stonewall ever were.”

“But with your help they will come around,” she said encouragingly.

“I hope so.” He then led her over to the table.

“So what did you find out?”

“According to Striker and Quasar, Jace and Caden have eased into their roles as husbands quite nicely.”

Shep smiled, pleased and happy with the women his sons had married. “Nothing suspicious happening?”

“No. And, as you requested, Roland now has someone inconspicuously keeping an eye on their wives as they go about their daily routines, which isn't hard to do with Shana still working at Granger and Shiloh running the wine shop. It was easy for one of Roland's guys to become a frequent customer.”

Shep nodded. “What's going on with Dalton?”

“I understand that Dalton went out of town last week and, of course, Stonewall followed.”

Shep didn't say anything for a minute as he leaned back in his chair. “Now that they know about them, are my sons making things difficult for Striker, Quasar or Stonewall?”

“According to Roland, not at all, although Dalton and that little red high-performance toy of his make things challenging for Stonewall at times.”

Shep grinned. “I can just imagine. You said Dalton was out of town last week. Where did he go?”

“Miami. Specifically, South Beach. Seems he followed a woman there.”

Shep looked surprised. “Dalton? Following behind a woman? Must have been some woman.”

“Yes. It was Jules Bradford.”

“Jules Bradford? Shana's sister?”

“The one and only.”

Shep looked confused. “But when I talked to Shana's father a few weeks ago, he mentioned that the two of them didn't get along, and that they practically hated each other's guts.”

A smile curved Carson's lips. “That might be true to some extent, and I have to agree with what he said based on the one time I was in their presence. However, I think they might have recently reached a compromise...or entered into a truce situation of some sort.”

Shep nodded slowly. “That should be interesting,” he said, standing from his seat to take Carson back into his arms.

Carson went willingly. “I happen to agree.”

Twenty-Two

D
alton walked into the nightclub and tried putting to the back of his mind what had transpired the last time he'd been here—the incident with Jules when she had deliberately given him her ass to kiss. Didn't matter now. That was water under the bridge since he had actually kissed that same ass just last week. Kissed it, licked those luscious cheeks and made love to them in ways that he got hard just thinking about. Now was not the time for an erection. He had business to deal with. Granger business. Besides, Jules was no longer in his system.

Moving around the tables while ignoring interested looks from various women, he made it to the booth in the back where Percy sat waiting. Dalton slid into the seat across from him. “You've been waiting long?”

Percy smiled wryly. “No. Actually, I just got here. I was hoping you wouldn't be early. My son's game ran into overtime.”

Dalton nodded. “Who won?”

“We did,” Percy said, smiling proudly. “I think he's going to be a good football player.”

“Just like his dad.”

“Thanks.”

The waiter came to take their drink orders, and it was only after the man left that their conversation resumed. “So tell me what you know, Percy.”

“Like I said, Dalton, I don't like to think of myself as a snitch, but you were good enough to give me a job, and my devotion is to you and your brothers. I wouldn't want anything to be going on with your family's company that you don't know about. Especially something that can affect it negatively.”

Dalton nodded. “That's not being a snitch, Percy. That's called being loyal, and I know my brothers and I appreciate you for it.”

“Thanks. I'm a newbie in the department, pretty much still in training. I don't think anyone, even Mr. Castor, knows of my past association with you. Nor do they know of my intensive background in technology. I deliberately didn't mention either. The former is because I didn't want anyone saying the only reason I got the job is because of my connection to you...although that's true. And the latter is because I don't want anyone thinking I'm coming into the company with the attitude of a know-it-all. So basically, I'm learning what they are teaching me and moving on from there.”

Dalton knew John Castor was head of the IT department where Percy worked. He seemed like a likable guy who'd been with the company a good twelve years. He'd met Castor at several department-head meetings, and he always seemed alert, up-to-date on modern technology and on-point in making sure Granger's computers and software were high-tech and state-of-the-art.

The waiter delivered their drinks. After he left, Dalton said, “I think that playing it safe is a smart strategy. The technology field can be pretty competitive.”

“I know. Anyway, Mr. Castor assigned me to look at a computer that had been brought in for repairs. The secretary said the keys were sticking and that when she typed one letter, another appeared.”

Percy paused a moment to sip his drink. “I know I was only supposed to check out the keyboard, but I became fascinated by the model of the computer as I'd never worked on one like that before. It was pretty high-tech—especially for simple word processing—and I wondered why the keys would be sticking on that particular model. In fact, it should have been installed with a slider program. With a slider, all you need is a light stroke for the keys to operate. Also, the slider has a memory function that retains memory of certain keystrokes. Follow me so far?”

Dalton nodded. “So far, yes.”

“That made me even more curious, so I checked out the hard drive to see whether the slider program had been installed, and I came across another program that was removed from laptops back in the nineties, because it was obsolete after the Y2K scare. So I wondered why this computer, a very new model, had it. It took me less than an hour to figure out the program actually was a type of filtering program that can erase data. I mean, wipe it out altogether. It can also transfer data from one computer to another from a remote device.”

Percy paused, and Dalton knew he was giving him time to absorb all he'd told him so far. He'd been a kid, but he remembered the Y2K scare, and the belief, at the time, that with the changeover to the new millennium, computers worldwide would cease functioning. That didn't happen, of course, but that didn't stop corporations and financial institutions from buying into the scare. The only ones to benefit from the scare were the computer programmers, technicians and virtually anyone who knew anything about computers.

What really concerned Dalton was the last part of what Percy had said. He believed some type of filtering program had been installed on that particular computer that could erase data. Hadn't Bruce Townsend claimed that's what happened to Brandy's computer? That somehow it had been wiped clean?

“And you say it can be wiped clean from a remote location?”

“Yes. Without anyone ever detecting it. Sometimes it's all but impossible to trace.”

Dalton leaned back in his seat. “Where is this particular computer now?”

“Back on the floor.”

“In what department?”

“Accounting.”

A feeling of unease settled in Dalton's stomach. Was that how Vidal had managed to steal money from the company without their knowing it? The man had been questioned and had refused to talk. And even with all the evidence stacked against him, his attorney had entered a not-guilty plea. Go figure.

“Don't mention a word of what you've told me to anyone, Percy. Not even to John Castor. At this point, no one is to be trusted until we figure out who put the program on that computer and why. Hell, there might be more of them placed throughout the building.”

The thought of that really had Dalton's stomach in knots now. He couldn't wait to share this conversation with Jace and Caden. And it might be best if they had that meeting away from the office. Like he'd told Percy, at this point no one could be trusted.

Twenty-Three

C
uddled with Shana on the sofa while watching a movie on television, Jace glanced at his cell phone when he received a text message. Shana saw the way his brows bunched. “Something wrong, Jace?”

He glanced over at her, shaking his head. “Hell, I hope not. I just got a text from Dalton. He wants to meet with Caden and me at his place tomorrow morning at eight.”

Shana raised a brow. “Did he say why?”

“No, and he asked us not to call tonight and ask questions. He will fill us in on everything we need to know in the morning.”

When another text message came through, Jace glanced over at Shana. “Now he's telling me to make sure I bring you.”

Shana smiled. “Now, don't I feel special? I wonder what this is about.”

“We'll find out in the morning. Whatever it is, he evidently doesn't want to discuss it tonight.”

Shana's smile faded, and undisguised concern showed in her eyes. “I hope it doesn't involve Jules.”

“Why do you think it would?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “When it comes to Dalton and Jules, who knows? Did you ask him whether their paths crossed while he was in Miami?”

“Yes, I asked him, and he said no. But he was lying.”

“Really? What makes you so sure of that?”

“Because I know Dalton. He could look you right in your face and lie...but he can't hide the way his jaw twitches when he's doing it. I don't think he's even aware of it. That's how I could catch him in a lie every time while growing up.”

He adjusted their positions on the sofa to place her legs across his. “What about Jules? Did she mention anything to you about seeing him in Miami?”

Shana shook her head. “No, but I have a feeling she did see him. I didn't ask her anything about it when I talked to her on the phone today, and she didn't volunteer any information. I get the feeling she's being secretive about something, but I'm not sure it's about Dalton. It has something to do with a case she's working on.”

“I thought she decided not to take on any new cases until after the holidays.”

“Apparently, she changed her mind. Makes me wonder why. What about you and your brothers? Have you decided how you're going to go about reopening your father's case?”

“Yes, we're meeting with Carson on Friday at the office to see what she recommends. Dad trusts her. Hell, he's admitted to being in love with her, so I guess that says it all. I'm happy for him but also sad for him, as well. He deserves to be with her full-time. That's why it's important that we find my mother's real killer.”

When Jace received another text message, he looked up at Shana and said, “Caden got the same text message from Dalton and wants to know if I know what's going on.”

He texted his brother back and said,
Your guess is
as good as mine.

* * *

“So are you headed back to your place now?” Stonewall asked when Dalton walked out of the nightclub a couple hours after meeting with Percy.

Dalton met Stonewall's gaze and shrugged. “Not sure. Why do you want to know? Are you getting tired of following me around?”

“No, just asking,” Stonewall said, grinning and falling into step beside Dalton. “And thanks for South Beach. I needed it.”

Dalton chuckled to keep from admitting that he had needed it, too. He glanced at his watch. By his standards, it was still early, although most people would have gone to bed by now. After his conversation with Percy ended he had texted his brothers. Then he'd hung around, had a couple of beers and flirted with a few of the women. He hadn't been tempted to take one to a hotel, although several had invited him over to their place. He'd turned them down. That didn't necessarily mean he didn't want sex tonight. It just meant he didn't want it with them. He forced to the back of his mind the thought of the one woman he did want it from. She was supposed to be out of his system but, if that was the case, why were his thoughts consumed by her? And why hadn't he been able to put last week behind him?

“You're restless, Dalton.”

He glanced over at Stonewall. “Restless?”

“Yes.”

Dalton figured he would agree if being restless and being horny meant the same thing. What was so damned frustrating was that after a week of practically nonstop sex like he'd had in Miami, horniness was the last thing he should be suffering from. “You have a steady woman, Stonewall?”

If Stonewall was surprised by his question, he didn't show it. “No. I don't have a steady woman.”

Dalton nodded. “Ever had a woman get into your system?”

“Can't say that I have.”

“Then count your blessings.”

They made it to Dalton's car, and he looked across the top of it to see all the bright lights of the nearby businesses. Some were tall buildings. Symmetrical. Well proportioned. Ripe with curves. His jaw tightened. Was he analyzing those damned buildings or remembering Jules's body? He thought his cravings for her were a thing of the past. Evidently not. It seemed that instead of working her out of his system, he'd embedded her deeper within it.

“Headed back to your place now?”

For a minute, he'd forgotten Stonewall was standing beside him. “I really don't want to.”

Stonewall didn't say anything for a minute. “You need her address.”

He didn't bother asking Stonewall who
her
was. “Do I?”

“Yes. You don't have it.”

Dalton wondered how Stonewall knew that. And he was right. He didn't have Jules's address, because he'd never been to her home before. Just her office. “You got her address?”

“No, but I can get it.”

“Then do it.”

Dalton didn't care that he and Jules had agreed not to pursue anything further once they returned to Charlottesville. On their last night together, she'd made it pretty damned clear that there would not be a repeat of Miami. However, at the moment, he didn't care that he was probably the last person she wanted to see, or that the courteous thing would be to call her first and not just drop by unexpectedly. But he was too horny to be courteous. Besides, he wanted the element of surprise on his side.

And he also wanted something else.

* * *

Jules rubbed her eyes, tired of reading yet another document. She had remained at her office well after Manning had left to take his dad to the doctor and decided sometime after seven to head home with the last of the files. Once there, she had showered, put on her pj's and decided to sit on the sofa in front of her fireplace and do some more reading.

By now, she knew that Imerson had worked alone out of an office on North Sampson, which was a ritzy area in Charlottesville. That meant his clientele was high-end and could afford the exorbitant fees he probably charged. Clients like Richard Granger.

Imerson had a good track record of solving cases other PIs couldn't, and since he worked alone, it took him a little longer. But he had a reputation for being thorough. Jules couldn't help wondering what he'd uncovered about the Sylvia Granger murder that could have gotten him killed...if that was the case. Sheppard Granger certainly thought that it was.

She had planned to read until ten o'clock and then stop to watch her favorite television show. But the show had been preempted by media coverage of a small earthquake in California. With nothing else to do, she had continued reading. It was either that or let those memories of her days and nights in Miami get the best of her.

An hour later, she was tired of reading but not sleepy enough for bed. She could call and chat with her father but figured he was occupied with Mona. And, of course, Shana probably had her hands full of Jace. She smiled at the thought. Naughty, naughty thoughts.

Jules figured she would enjoy a glass of wine and surf the television channels for a decent movie, and she was about to head for the kitchen to get the wine when there was a knock at her door. No one would be visiting her at this time of night and definitely not unannounced. She quietly padded across the room to retrieve the Glock, which she kept in a decorative ottoman beside the fireplace. In her line of business, you could never be sure who might come calling.

She eased to the door and looked out the peephole. WTF? Dalton! How dare he show up at her place? And how did he know where she lived? She was certain Shana would not have told him. And even worse, he was reneging on their agreement. She snatched open the door. “What do you think you're doing, coming here?”

He stood leaning in the doorway the same way he walked...with casual arrogance. He acted like he had every right to show up at her house at this hour, unannounced...not that it would have mattered if he had called first. The point was that he should not be here.

His tie was loose around his neck, and his sleeves were rolled up. The jacket of his Armani suit was thrown over his shoulder and, to her downfall, he looked too sexy for words. Tall, dark and predatory. Way too predatory, and she couldn't help noticing his focus was entirely on her.

“You plan on shooting me, Jules?”

She realized then that she was holding her gun, although it wasn't pointed at him. “I might,” she said, placing the gun on a table near the door. “I thought we had an agreement, Dalton.”

“We do.”

“Then why are you here?”

Instead of answering, he said in a deep, husky tone, “Invite me inside, Jules.”

A part of Jules wanted to slam the door shut in his face at that request. But then another, the one that recognized an electrical current flowing between them, wouldn't allow her to do that.

“I brought you something.” She watched as he pulled a bag from behind his back. A bag from Parker's, known for their delicious apple pies. When they were in Miami, why had she mentioned her addiction to them?

“I thought you would like a slice.”

She frowned. He hadn't thought anything. He had known she would want a slice. But that was no reason for him to default on their agreement. “I was just about to have a glass of wine.”

“Then think of just how more enjoyable your glass of wine will be with this,” he said, holding up the bag.

“Hmm, you're right.” She snatched the bag from his hand and was about to slam the door in his face when he stuck out his foot and stopped her.

“I forgot to mention that I come with that bag.”

Devious bastard.
She should have known he hadn't appeared on her doorstep with a Parker's apple pie just because he was a nice guy. Dalton Granger had an ulterior motive for just about everything he did.

She looked at the bag and then back at him. Both, she knew from experience, were sinfully delicious. She licked her lips while wondering which she preferred tonight.

“Jules?”

She gave him an assessing glance. “I'm thinking.”

“Fine, you're a thinker and I'm a doer, but we need to do it inside because it's cold out here.” And then he brushed past her and walked into her home.

She frowned and closed the door behind him. “I don't recall inviting you inside.”

He chuckled. “You're holding my entry card in your hand,” he said, indicating the Parker's bag. “I'd like a glass of wine, as well, and there's enough apple pie for us to share.”

When she gave him a dirty look, he smiled and said, “I see you're probably not too keen on sharing the pie.”

“There's no
probably
in it,” she said, heading toward her kitchen.

He followed. “Don't you know there's pleasure in sharing?”

That one particular word stopped her short.
Pleasure.
She placed the bag on the kitchen counter and turned around. “Why are you here, Dalton?”
Like I don't know.

He leaned against the breakfast bar that separated her kitchen and dining room areas. “I've been thinking about you.”

Her lips twitched. Had that admission come grudgingly? Definitely sounded like it. “And just what have you been thinking about?”

“Do I have to tell you?”

No, he didn't, but she wanted to hear it, anyway. “Yes, tell me, Dalton. What have you been thinking about?”

He held her gaze. “How good it felt being inside you.”

She believed at that moment her heart missed a beat. And if that wasn't bad enough, a deep throb had started at the apex of her thighs. That's what she got for asking. “We agreed that—”

“Do you think I don't know what we agreed, Jules?” He rubbed his hand across his head, clearly frustrated. “Do you think I want to be here?” he asked testily. “But damn it, I like being inside you. I love the feel of your muscles clamping down tight on me while I thrust in and out of you. I love how easily your nipples slide between my lips and fit under my tongue. And I definitely love the feeling I get when my head is buried between your legs. And your taste...”

Trying to pretend that she wasn't affected by his words, she opened the cabinet door to retrieve two wineglasses, while squeezing her legs together tightly. She fought the urge to put the glasses aside and cross the room to him, strip off her pj's and spread her legs, because she loved the feeling she got whenever his head was buried between them, as well. And
his
taste...

“Jules.”

She jumped. He was standing right there in front of her. When had he crossed the room? She should be piqued he had done so, but at that moment, she was so filled with awareness of him that she couldn't. He was staring down at her, focusing on her with an intensity that should disturb her. But strangely, it didn't. Instead, she knew how it felt to be totally desired. Wanted. She would even go so far as to say craved. She knew, because as much as she didn't want to admit it, whenever she thought about him, she experienced those same things. Although she doubted she would have given in to such a weakness as making a booty call like he was obviously doing. But, she had to admit, the thought had crossed her mind a couple of times since she'd returned from Miami.