A Lover's Vow. Brenda Jackson
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But still, Jules knew that Dalton’s refusal to come to dinner was a letdown, although Shana tried not to show it. Her sister didn’t deserve that. She deserved better than having Dalton Granger as a brother-in-law.
And Jules felt that she herself deserved better than having to come here, seeking him out to talk about it. Why she was even wasting her time, she wasn’t sure. History had shown on more than one occasion the man had a one-track mind. He had this entitlement complex that needed to be knocked down more than a few notches. All they ever did when they were within five feet of each other was argue. Dalton Granger brought out the worst in her. Most of the time, intentionally. But at least she could try to convince him that it wasn’t about him and her, but about Jace and Shana. They didn’t need their siblings on the warpath. For Jace’s and Shana’s sakes, they should try to at least be civil to each other. They’d almost succeeded during the wedding weekend. Had almost made it to the end, but of course, he’d felt the need to rattle her, piss her off big-time. And what made her even madder was that she’d let him. Why did he have the ability to get under her skin?
She killed the ignition of her car and sat there a moment. She didn’t see him or that red two-seater sports car he drove around town. But she felt something. The air surrounding her seemed to be spiked with intensity. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was invading his space. And now it seemed as if his space were invading her.
How could that indescribable masculine aura that seemed to cling to him surround her now, even when he was nowhere to be seen? But it didn’t take much to remember how he’d looked at the wedding. The visual suddenly shot heat up the full length of her spine, making her hot inside.
Jules refused to believe her sudden rise in body temperature had anything to do with Dalton. After all, he was just a man. But she would admit he had this predator side that was powerful at times, almost overwhelming. Of course, she staunchly refused to let that happen, although the very idea sent a shiver through her body. That quiver prompted her to turn the car’s ignition back on to generate some heat. It was October, and there was a definite chill in the air. Everyone had begun wearing overcoats weeks ago and was anticipating the season’s first snowstorm before the end of the month.
She glanced at her watch. It was almost ten on a weeknight. It was too much to assume that Dalton, like most normal people who worked the next day, would have the sense to be home at this hour. But then, he had a reputation of being a party animal. He’d definitely left his mark on the women over in Europe. She’d done her research and knew that he preferred older women. He’d had no problem being their boy toy.
But to give him credit...something she didn’t like doing...he’d been smart enough to capitalize on his money by investing wisely. He’d become a billionaire without the Granger name or money. He’d done so in his own right. If it had been any other man, she would admire him for achieving such brilliant success. But since it was Dalton, hell would freeze over before she held him in high esteem for anything.
Deciding she would leave if he didn’t come home in the next ten minutes or so, she relaxed her head against the headrest and stretched out her legs as far as they could comfortably go while glancing out the car’s window at her surroundings. This was a pretty exclusive section of Charlottesville, not too far from town. After seeing the Granger estate at Sutton Hills, she could understand his choice—when you were used to wealth, why settle for anything less? Although his condo wasn’t in a gated community, it still had that old-money, country-club feel all wrapped in modern architecture. Even the streetlamps spelled prestige with their intricate, wrought-iron design. Although it was dark, the landscape lighting revealed a luxurious building with immaculately manicured grounds.
Of their own accord, her thoughts shifted to Dalton and the last time she’d seen him at the wedding, a little over two weeks ago. She would admit, but only to herself, that she’d been aware of every single thing about him, every fine line and manly curve. Then there had been the way he’d stared at her with so much heated lust she’d felt exposed, vulnerable and so unbearably hot that when she’d gotten home she’d stripped off every inch of her clothing and taken a cold shower.
After wrapping up her last case, she’d decided that for the remainder of the year she would take it easy and stick around home, refusing new cases until after the holidays. But now she was considering doing the opposite just to get as far away from Charlottesville as she could. And all because of one man.
The thought that Dalton Granger could make her run sent anger flowing through her limbs. Why was she aware of him in a way she’d never been aware of any other man? Why did he have the ability to creep into her dreams at night, engaging her in all kinds of kinky acts? Even now, she could feel a line of heat licking across her skin, thinking about some of them.
She drew in a deep breath. Lately, her arsenal of sex toys wasn’t doing a damned thing for her. It was time to call in the big guns, the real guns. Her personal little red book, which she hadn’t used in months, was tucked in the bottom drawer of her nightstand. It was time to pull it out and flip through the pages. Most single people had little black books, but hers was red. Intentionally. It meant danger. Fire. Heat. The first name from the book that popped into her mind was Ray Ford. She wondered if he was still in town. Last time they’d talked...around this time last year...he was thinking about relocating to Baltimore to be closer to his little girl. At the time she’d only smiled, thinking that, in truth, it was probably his ex-wife he wanted to be close to. No harm there, and if that was the case she hoped they had reconciled and remarried.
Jules was about to consider another name in her little red book when she saw headlights approaching. It was easy to tell they were from a sports car. A sudden, low heat began spreading in her belly, and she frowned. Why was Dalton an ache even when he was a good twenty feet or more away, tucked safely inside his own vehicle? Just the thought of him approaching was making her body feel some pretty weird stuff, and that wasn’t good. Maybe this wasn’t the best night to have any type of conversation with him, after all. Tomorrow would be better, perhaps, when she could get control of her senses. Or maybe after she’d gotten laid.
As she watched his car turn into the condo complex, she knew excuses wouldn’t work. She was here and fired up to talk, and she wouldn’t back down. She needed to say what she wanted to say now, whether he wanted to hear it or not. She could handle this. She could handle him.
But as she watched him open his car door to get out, one leg at a time, and saw how each powerfully built thigh eased from the red two-seater, her throat suddenly went dry. And got even drier when he began walking toward his front door with that sensuous strut he could do so well, full of cool sophistication and overflowing with sexiness. He was wearing an Armani suit, and there was that air of natural confidence and casual arrogance that he exuded like no other man she knew. It turned her on when it should be turning her off. It was at times like these when she really got frustrated with herself. The very thought that her body would respond to anything about him was totally exasperating.
And here she was, outside his house, sitting in her car, determined to follow through with her mission to set the tone for a peaceful truce. She despised him; that couldn’t be helped, nor would it ever change. But for her sister and his brother, they could at least tolerate each other during those few times they were in each other’s company. She was willing to make the sacrifice and hoped he would be, too.
Knowing she needed to get it over with, confront Dalton and have her say, Jules was about to unbuckle her seat belt when she noticed a car pull up, a black sedan with tinted windows. Its approach was timed perfectly to when Dalton reached his door, opened it and went inside his condo. Only then did