dark eyes stared up at him. “So if you aren’t here to give me the one thing I want from you, then why are you here?”
His question made her remember why she was here, and she pulled the Glock from inside her coat.
“Damn! Why do you have a gun?” he asked, backing up even more. “This anomisity between us isn’t that serious. Let’s talk about it.”
“I don’t have a lot of time to explain things, Dalton. I need to use the back entrance to your place and—”
“What the hell is going on?”
Already, her eyes were scanning his condo. It was as elegant on the inside as it was on the outside. She spotted the kitchen and moved toward it. “Can’t talk now. I’ll fill you in later.”
He blocked her path. “Like hell you will. You can’t show up at my place at almost midnight, ask me to pretend to kiss you, pull out a gun and then ask to see my back door.”
She had to agree the situation did seem weird. “You’ve been followed.”
“What?”
“I said, you were followed tonight.”
Penetrating eyes stared down at her, and she had to fight against just how achingly handsome he was standing there in his silk bathrobe. She couldn’t help wondering if he had any clothing on underneath it.
“I was followed?”
“Yes.”
“And you know this how?” he asked, crossing powerful arms over his chest, making his robe rise a little, exposing powerful legs, hard thighs and an erection that hadn’t gone down.
“I was parked outside, waiting for you to come home.” When she saw a semblance of heat flare in his eyes, she decided to explain herself before he thought the wrong thing. “Shana mentioned earlier today that you weren’t coming to her dinner party Saturday night. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. So I felt the two of us needed to discuss it.”
“There’s nothing to discuss. If you were going to be there, then I wasn’t. Now back to the part about why you thought I was followed.”
She was about to call him an ass again but remembered his warning. “I’m a PI, Dalton. I can recognize a tail. In fact, the person is still parked out there. I plan to go out through your back door and catch him by surprise.”
Her story sounded too far-fetched to have been made up. He’d been followed? Hadn’t he been getting an eerie feeling about that lately? He stared at her. “You sure?”
“Positive. Now I need to—”
“Wait.”
“Like hell I’ll wait, and don’t suggest we call the police,” she said. “I used to be a cop. I can handle this.”
From the way she was handling that Glock, he believed her. But still, if someone was out there, it might be a foe of the USN, the United Security Network. A few years ago, he’d worked as an agent for the United States Government while living in Europe. No one knew...except for Lady Victoria Bowman, one of his former lovers, but his secret was safe with her. His brothers didn’t even know of his involvement with the USN, and his identity and role in the agency was never to be revealed. But what if it had been?
“I need to get dressed,” he said, moving toward his bedroom. “Your assumption that I was followed might be a misunderstanding.”
“Why?”
Jules was asking too many damned questions. “Just sit tight for a second. If the person is just sitting there, that means he won’t be going anywhere.” He closed his bedroom door behind him and quickly began dialing a number he’d hoped he had no reason to ever call again.
A gruff voice came on the line. “It’s late, Granger.”
“That’s too fucking bad. I was followed tonight,” Dalton said, tossing off his robe and grabbing a pair of jeans and shirt from his closet.
There was a pause, and the voice that asked the next question was now alert, attentive. “You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Okay. Give me less than five and I’ll call you back.”
“All right.” Dalton hung up the phone. He finished dressing and was slipping into his shoes when he got a call back...in less than five. “Okay, what’s the deal?” he asked.
“Nothing on our end. If you’re being followed, it has nothing to do with us.”
Dalton wasn’t sure whether he should feel relieved or exasperated.
“You must have pissed someone off, Granger.”
The only person he knew he’d pissed off was presently standing in his living room. “Possibly.”
“Take my advice. Find out what’s going on and deal with it before it deals with you. If you need me for anything, let me know.”
He nodded. “Okay. Thanks.” He then opened the drawer to his nightstand and pulled out his own pistol. A Glock that was just as impressive as the one Jules had. He tucked it inside his jeans as he left his bedroom. Entering the living room, he found her pacing the floor. Even when pacing she had that sexy walk that could make his entire body go hard. He tried not to focus on how good she looked in her black leather trench coat and matching boots. The belt enhanced her small waistline. It didn’t take much to remember how she’d looked the two times he’d seen her at that nightclub. He knew how her clothes fit beneath that coat and was tempted to forget whoever was following him, cross the room and strip every stitch of clothing off her body.
She turned around and glared when she saw his gun. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“What does it look like? You got your gun, I got mine.”
She rolled her eyes. “This is not show and tell. Do you even know how to use that thing?”
“Probably just as well as you.”
He could tell that his boast had her curious. “If that’s true, then you have some explaining to do.”
Thinking he’d said enough, possibly too much, he turned toward the kitchen. “Let’s go. I hope you’re not making this shit up.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Just to find an excuse to make a booty call. You did let me kiss you.”
“I told you to pretend. You took advantage of me,” she snapped.
“And at what point did you tell me to stop? You could have pushed me away. Bitten my tongue. Scratched my face. But you did none of those things, which leads me to believe you wanted to be kissed.”
“Like hell.”
“I’d like to think I gave you a little bit of heaven, instead.”
Ignoring
