A Lover's Vow (13 page)

Sixteen

“N
ow, this is the way to roll,” Jules said, looking out her hotel room window at the ocean below. It was hard to grasp that in Miami the temperature was in the high eighties while, according to The Weather Channel, in Charlottesville, it was in the low forties. That was a big difference, which is why she needed these few extra days in Florida.

She moved from the window and glanced around her hotel room. Usually, to cut costs, she would stay in a modest hotel. However, this time, she'd splurged a bit, deciding to give herself an early Christmas present. This was a gorgeous two-room suite with separate living and dining rooms. She'd already checked out the fully equipped wet bar and Jacuzzi bathtub big enough for two. She could see herself sipping wine while covered in bubbles. This was definitely the type of place a person could relax and feel right at home, and she intended to do just that.

She was to appear in court at nine the next morning, but already she had made plans to spend as much of her free time on the beach as possible. And tomorrow evening after she left the court, she intended to go shopping for the sexiest dress she could find.

She walked across the room to browse the hotel booklet that listed numerous nightlife activities. She was excited and raring to go, and the first event that caught her eye was a jazz night tomorrow. And the nice thing was that the hotel had its own jazz club. How cool was that? She loved jazz, and after spending a day in court, it would be just what she'd need to unwind.

It had been after seven last night when she'd finally left her office for home. She had dug deep into all the information she could find on Marshall Imerson. The internet had been a great source of information, including the details of his auto accident. He was a married man and the father of a son who'd been in high school at the time of the accident.

She had talked to Manning this morning, and he understood just what information she still needed from the police, which meant digging into a bunch of old files. If Manning called requesting the information, he would get the runaround after being placed on hold for no telling how long. But if he showed up in person, the female clerks in the records department would be willing to jump through hoops to give him copies of whatever files he wanted. It happened every time.

Knowing she needed a clear head for court tomorrow, Jules decided to order room service for dinner, go over her investigative notes and get in bed early. But tomorrow night would be totally different. That's when the fun would begin.

* * *

“You didn't mention anything about leaving town for a few days,” Caden said, gazing sternly across the conference table at Dalton.

“I didn't?” Dalton asked with a straight face.

“No,” Jace said, studying his brother as he leaned back in his chair.

“Well, I'm telling you now. I'm leaving in the morning and won't be back until the weekend. There shouldn't be a problem, since both of you have taken trips away from Charlottesville yourselves. This will be my first time doing so.”

He knew there was nothing his brothers could say after calling them out on that. Caden had left on two occasions to fulfill concert obligations, not to mention his elopement in Vegas. And Jace had taken two weeks off for his honeymoon.

“I don't recall Jace or me saying we had a problem with it, Dalton. We merely stated this was the first we'd heard of it, so we can only assume it was a last-minute decision. What's wrong? You're headed to London because you're missing your duchess?”

Dalton rolled his eyes. His brothers were razzing him about his long-standing affair with Lady Victoria Bowman. “For crying out loud, Caden, how many times do I need to remind you that Victoria's not a duchess, she's a lady—of English nobility—the daughter of an earl.”

“And your cougar,” Caden said, grinning.

Dalton sighed. “And she's my good friend.” Neither Caden nor Jace could get beyond the fact that Victoria was twenty years his senior. She had been more than just his lover. She had been his close friend and confidante. “And just so neither of you will be surprised when it appears in the newspapers in a few months, I'll tell you right now that Victoria is getting married.” He thought the look on his brothers' faces was priceless. Both of their jaws dropped at the same time.

“
You
seem to be taking it well,” Jace said.

“There's no reason I shouldn't. I'm happy for her. Sir Isaac Muldrow will do right by her and make her happy. She deserves it,” Dalton said, standing to gather up the papers he'd scattered on the table. “Now, if you guys will excuse me, I need to go home and pack.”

“You didn't say where you're going,” Caden reminded him.

“Didn't I?”

“No,” Jace said smoothly.

Dalton smiled. “I thought Florida would be nice this time of year. It's been years since I've been to South Beach.”

Jace leaned forward and placed his palms flat on the table. He arched a brow. “Now, isn't that a coincidence? Shana mentioned at breakfast that Jules left this morning for Miami. But I'm sure you didn't know that.”

Dalton's smile widened. He couldn't forget it was Jace who'd walked in on him and Jules kissing on the patio, so there was no need to play dumb. But he would do so, anyway. “Why would I know Jules's whereabouts?”

Dalton knew his brother. A part of Jace wanted to call him out, but he wouldn't. If something more was going on between him and Jules than that kiss he'd witnessed, Jace would leave it up to him to 'fess up when he was ready.

“And just in case the two of you try to get cute, I'm turning the tracker off my phone,” Dalton said, smiling.

Caden laughed. “We don't need a tracker when we have Stonewall.”

“Stonewall?” The smile vanished from Dalton's face. “Stonewall is
not
following me to Miami.”

Jace chuckled. “I'd like to see you try to stop him. If Quasar can follow me on my honeymoon to South Africa, then Stonewall can certainly follow you to Miami.”

Dalton frowned; his grip on the papers in his hand was unusually tight. “We'll see about that.”

He then turned and stalked out of the room.

Seventeen

J
ules stepped off the elevator feeling like a woman on the prowl. A real man-hunter. Never in her life had she taken such drastic measures, but it couldn't be helped. When a woman had gone without sex for as long as she had, it was time to take action.

It didn't take her long to walk across the hotel's lobby to the jazz club. The moment she stepped inside, she felt gazes turn her way as she headed toward the bar. The live entertainment would start in an hour, and until then, she intended to scope out the prospects. She was anxious, but that didn't mean she wouldn't be selective. She loved her life, and when it came to safe sex, she was on top of her game, which is why her purse was full of condoms.

Not seeing an empty table, she crossed the room and slid onto a bar stool before glancing around the room. The lighting in the club was dim, but she could see the room was full of couples, sitting snug, all lovey-dovey and sharing drinks. To her disappointment, she didn't see one man sitting alone. But that didn't stop the guys from checking her out when they thought their female companions weren't aware of it. She shook her head. Men could be such fools at times. Didn't they know a woman could detect when her man had a roving eye?

“What are you having?” the bartender asked her, smiling and trying not to be so obvious while checking out her outfit.

She smiled back. “A martini. Dirty.”

“One dirty martini coming up.”

“Make that two.”

On recognizing
that
voice, Jules swung around so fast it was a wonder she didn't fall off the bar stool. And then she saw him. Dalton. Standing right there in front of her. Where had he come from? She had glanced around the room just seconds ago and hadn't seen him. But her main question was what on Earth was he doing here, in Miami?

“What are you doing here, Dalton?” At that moment rage began building up inside her. She refused to believe this. It was like a bad dream, and she needed to wake up quickly.

He eased closer, leaning in, and she breathed in deeply, inhaling his manly scent. “Let's pretend, Jules,” he whispered in a deep, husky voice. “Forget how we met. Let's start over. Here. Now. Hundreds of miles away from Charlottesville. Pretend we're strangers just meeting for the first time. Strangers who caught each other's attention while here on South Beach. We can even use phony names if you like.”

Jules didn't say anything as she contemplated his suggestion. Heaven help her, but she found the idea intriguing. “Pretend?”

“Yes,” Dalton said in a seductive tone. “I can pretend to be a salesman in Miami on business, or whatever you want me to be.”

Her gaze raked over him. Yes, he could be a salesman. But with the tailor-made suit he was wearing, the CEO of a major corporation would be more likely. “And when we return to Charlottesville, what then?” she asked, not believing she was considering his idea.

“How we handle things after this week will be up to you. I will honor your decision.”

Could she trust him to do that?
She stared at him, looked deeply into the eyes staring back at her. Already she felt the heat as his gaze burned into hers and knew that his problem was the same as hers. They wanted each other. It was an attraction that had been obsessive, borderline compulsive, from the start. But she had refused to give in to his terms, and he'd refused to give in to hers. Both had wanted things their way or no way at all. And now the concept of
no way at all
had brought them to this. Stalemate.

She could not believe he was actually here. Over wine on Saturday night, she had mentioned she was coming to Miami. How had he known what hotel she would be staying in? How did he know she would be coming to the club tonight? How...

She shook her head, not able to ask herself any more questions. It was obvious that Dalton Granger had managed to find her for a second time. And he wanted them to pretend they were just meeting for the first time. Could they pull it off? It might be to her benefit to dig a little deeper to determine his thought process. “So what name will you go by if I don't want to call you Dalton?” she asked after the bartender placed their martinis on the counter. Dalton reached around her to get his, and her breath rushed from her lungs when their shoulders brushed. He leaned in and whispered, “My middle name is Richard, but more than once I've gone by the nickname Dick.”

Bam.
The area between her legs began to throb mercilessly. And the nipples on her breasts tightened to buds.
Dick.
That was the name he'd given her the day he'd shown up unexpectedly at her office. Before she'd learned his true identity.

“And if you prefer,” he said, taking a slow sip of his drink, “I'll call you Sweet Pea.”

She would rather he didn't. “If I were to use a fake name, I think Jane would be perfect for your Dick.”
Jeez
. She cleared her throat. “I mean, Jane would be perfect with the name Dick.” The throb between her legs increased, almost becoming an unbearable ache.

“
Fun with Dick and Jane.
I recall seeing that movie a few years ago. I enjoyed it.” His gaze flickered over her. “So what do you think of my idea to pretend?” he asked in a gentle voice that still managed to stir every single thing inside her.

“I'm thinking.” She took a sip of her martini as she stared at him over the rim of her glass. The lighting in the club was perfectly calibrated to manifest how good he looked standing there in his business suit. He had broad shoulders. A trim waist. Tapered thighs. And he was wearing a pair of shoes that probably cost more than Manning's entire monthly salary. The one advantage of going along with the pretend idea was that she would get a full night of sex. Enough to make up for what she'd gone several months without.

“While you're thinking, can I give you something else to think about?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Depends on what it is.”

Dalton smiled, showing perfect white teeth and a too-delicious smile. “I'll let you decide.”

He shifted to move closer to where his body brushed against her thigh. And she felt it. His erection. Hard, engorged and ready. The contact sent succulent shivers all through her. She suddenly felt so intensely ravenous that she traced her top lip with the tip of her tongue.

“I'd really like to get to know you,
Jane
. Will you join me at my table?”

“Your table?”

“Yes. I have a private room in the back that overlooks the ocean.”

Her heart was pounding hard in her chest.
A private room?
That should not have surprised her, but it did. Why did she have a gut feeling he had prepared well for this night just in case it included her? And why did she believe he knew about any and every secret fantasy she'd ever had, and would have no problem playing each one out to her satisfaction if given the chance?

Jules met his gaze. “Before I join you at your table, I think introductions are in order to get things started off on the right foot.” Offering him her hand, she said, “I'm Jules. Not Jane.”

He gave her a sizzling smile when his fingers curled over hers. “And I'm Dalton, not Dick.”

She couldn't ignore the sparks that shot through her when he held her hand in his. “Nice meeting you, Dalton.”

“Nice meeting you, as well, Jules.”

He assisted her as she slid off the bar stool. “Nice outfit, by the way,” he said, dragging his gaze all over her, lingering in certain places.

Jules smiled. “Thanks.” Her dress was definitely an eye-catcher, deliberately and provocatively so. Black, short, sleeveless, razor slashed, exposing a lot more skin than it covered, especially in the tummy and chest areas. She could feel the heat of his gaze move from her navel to her breasts, and the thought of his mouth replacing those eyes had her nearly drowning in lust. If they didn't get to that private room fast, there was no telling what would happen.

“Lead the way, Dalton.”

“It will be my pleasure, Jules.”

* * *

Dalton would never consider himself a possessive man, but the moment Jules had walked into the club wearing that dress, he'd had to step back a moment to linger in the shadows to get his erection under control. Some things a man couldn't hide, and his desire for Jules was one of them. His briefs had gotten tight and had practically cut into his groin. Even now, heat was shimmering in the air surrounding them as well the aura of sex. Much-needed sex.

When he'd seen her enter the club, he had been shocked one second and then totally captivated the next. She was being watched, ogled and desired by a number of men, and the thought of any man approaching her for any reason made him rabid.

Her very short, scandalous, erection-making dress looked as if someone had taken a razor to it, deliberately slashing and slicing it in certain key stimulating places. Like the stomach area, where her navel was clearly displayed. But nothing could compete with the firm and shapely breasts clearly in view. If getting attention had been her intent, then she had reached her goal. There hadn't been a man in the place who hadn't checked out both her and her outfit. And then on top of the dress—or below it—she had the nerve to wear stilettos on those gorgeous legs. She evidently had planned to take care of some serious business tonight.

They rounded a corner with only a few steps left to go to the private room. He picked up his pace, and so did she. The first thing he intended to do when they got behind closed doors was to shred the rest of that dress off her. Since she obviously enjoyed showing her body, he intended for her to show a lot of it tonight...for an audience of one. They reached the door, and he pushed it open. “Have you had dinner?” he asked, standing aside to let her enter.

She gave him a smile that almost turned his brains to mush, and when she licked her lips and said in a sultry voice, “Umm, not yet,” he felt a deep throb in his groin.

With anticipation rippling down his spine and rushing fast and furious through his veins, he followed her into the room and locked the door behind them.