A Lover's Vow

She had news for him. Acting like an adult is what had landed her in this mess with Dalton. As a fully grown woman, she’d never been aware of a man the way she was aware of him...and that wasn’t good.

“There’s Mona. I’ll talk to you later,” her father said, moving away. “Come to breakfast in the morning,” he threw over his shoulder.

Jules watched as he walked swiftly across the room to where Mona Underwood stood. Jules glanced down at her watch, and although she didn’t want to, she glanced over to where Dalton was standing and saw him glancing down at his watch, as well. Like her, he was probably counting the minutes before the newlyweds left for their honeymoon so he could split.

Dalton glanced up and snagged her gaze. Jules tilted her head, lifted her chin and regarded him with all the loathing she could muster. The bastard had the nerve to smile. She shook her head in disgust as she turned, deciding to check out the live entertainment. If he wanted to stare, let him stare at her back.

The jazz band sounded great, and everyone appeared lively and festive. She was glad Shana had ditched the idea of a small wedding and had gone all out. She deserved it. Like Jules had told her sister, she wouldn’t be the first pregnant bride or the last. Besides, few people knew about her sister’s condition, and frankly, it wasn’t any of their business.

“Nice band, isn’t it?”

Jules froze. She cut her gaze away from the musicians to the man who’d come to stand beside her. The rough, manly texture of his voice grazed her insides, suddenly making her feel so hot that she was tempted to fan herself. His eyes were penetrating, and it felt as if he were looking at her naked. She’d never felt self-conscious about anything she wore; she liked dressing up and showing off her body. Knowing she looked desirable to a man was no big deal to her. But not with this man. She didn’t need or want his attention.

“The day is almost over,” he added after getting no response from her. His voice had shifted to a smooth yet husky tone, sending shivers up her arm. “We pulled it off, being on our best behavior and all, so I thought I’d come over and say hello.”

She was tempted to tell him what he could do with his hello. Instead, she took a sip of her wine to help fight off the sensuous dominance radiating off him. It took every ounce of fortitude she had to hold his gaze, pretending nonchalance when she was so aware of him. Her body’s reaction to him made her livid with him as well as with herself. “I can’t believe your audacity,” she said in a low, cutting tone.

His smile was slow and seductive. “Yeah, I do have balls, don’t I?”

Now why did he go there? Her gaze lowered to the area below his well-proportioned waist. He had an incredible masculine build that not only made her speculate about his balls but also about every single inch of him. She snatched her focus back to his face and watched his eyes darken at the same time his mouth spread into one of those gotcha smiles. He’d realized what she’d been thinking when her gaze had dropped.

“Look, Dalton,” she said in a stern voice, while trying not to make a scene. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I don’t like you.”

He chuckled, and instead of irking her, the sound sent a small quiver humming up her spine. “Then that makes us even, Jules, because I don’t like you, either.”

* * *

Although he might not like her, he did want her, Dalton admitted, staring at her with an intensity he hoped she found unnerving. He could envision all the things he would do to her if he ever got the chance. She was the cause of many sleepless nights and the loss of his peace of mind. Even worse, she was stopping him from desiring other women. Whenever he saw Jules, her level of femininity struck a blow to his libido, mainly because what he saw in her was something he would never get.

Bullshit.

He refused to acknowledge she was different from any other woman he saw, wanted and got. He knew women, could read them like a book. Although he would be the first to admit there were a few of Jules’s chapters he’d rather skip. The bottom line was that she wanted him, probably just as much as he wanted her. She could pretend otherwise. She could fight it. She could even deny it. But a woman’s scent didn’t lie. She wore Amarige like no other woman, and the way it mingled with her body’s chemistry was so damned mind-blowingly hot, like some aphrodisiac that was drugging him senseless, making him act like a boor when he should be a gentleman. It was revving up his sexual awareness of her, and he was convinced the feeling was mutual.

“Since our total dislike for each other has been established, why are you here, in my face?” she asked, cutting into his thoughts like a sharp knife.

She hadn’t seen anything yet, he thought, leaning in closer to that same face, breathing against her ear as if he were about to let her in on a little secret. In a way, he was. “I like riling you, like seeing you flustered and all hot and bothered. I can tell, although you might deny it. I could remedy things easily, to both our liking. I could put smiles on our faces that could last a lifetime. The animosity between us ends here if you come home with me tonight.”

There was a brief moment of silence. “Dalton?”

“Yes?” He’d heard a catch in her voice. Why did it have to sound sensuous, so unbearably sexy, causing his breathing to stop as he hung on, waited in lustful anticipation for her response?

“Go fuck yourself.”

Those three words had been whispered low but spoken clearly, direct, definitely matter-of-fact, no holds barred. His eyes narrowed as anger ran up his spine. Instinctively, he took a step back, refusing to let what she’d said affect him. And he rejected the idea that the strange tight feeling in the middle of his chest meant anything. Her snubs were becoming commonplace, like oil rolling off his back, because in the end, they would make her capitulation that much sweeter.

He pulled back and smiled down at her, saying with none of the calm he actually felt, “I’d rather do you than myself. Sorry you’re missing the opportunity.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not missing any opportunity, trust me. And—”

The clapping of hands drowned out her next words. They both turned when Jace and Shana appeared holding hands. They had changed into traveling clothes. It was time for them to leave on their honeymoon—two weeks on the beaches in Cape Town, South Africa.

Dalton shifted his gaze from the smiling couple and back to Jules. She was still looking at Jace and Shana with genuine happiness on her face. But he saw beyond her happiness for her sister and his brother. She was clearly not a romantic at heart, and he’d picked up on her cynicism a few times. They thought alike in some ways, and Dalton figured that if given a chance, they would set a bedroom on fire. He would see to it. But there were a few things about Jules he was determined to find out. Unravel. Sink his teeth into. And then he would sink his body into hers. Make her scream. Holler. Bite him a few times. Come unglued and put an end to this shitty attitude she wore like a suit of armor. The thought of taking her on in the bedroom made a tingling sensation spread through him. Right now she was made of ice, and he couldn’t wait to see her melt.

“You’re a difficult person, Jules Bradford.”

She glanced at him, her smile gone. “You’re still here? I thought you would have seized the opportunity to leave.”

“With my tail tucked between my legs? No woman will ever drive me to such madness.”

“Really? And as far as my being a difficult person, I disagree. I just refuse to tolerate bullshit.”

He leaned in closer again. “Then I don’t understand why we don’t get along, since I refuse to tolerate bullshit, either.” He straightened and smiled down at her. “See you around, Juliet.”

And then he walked away.

Two (#ulink_bb4ac6a8-4ec8-56be-913b-01e3c89a45ad)

“Do you ever get the feeling you’re being followed?”

Caden Granger glanced up from the file he was reading and watched his brother Dalton walk into his office to plop down in the chair across from his desk. He figured it was going to be one of those days. When Jace had left for his honeymoon, he had deliberately assigned Dalton projects guaranteed to keep him busy. Now that the two-week honeymoon was over, Jace was back and Dalton...was being Dalton.

“No, can’t say that I have,” Caden said, leaning back against his chair. “But if you are being followed, it wouldn’t surprise me.”

Dalton pursed his lips in a hard line. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I’m your brother. I know you. You’ve probably pissed somebody off. A jealous husband, perhaps?”

Dalton glowered. “I don’t do wives, so there shouldn’t be any husbands out for blood.” He paused a moment and said. “Unless...”

Caden lifted a brow. “Unless what?”

“Nothing.”

The single word was spoken too quickly, and Caden eyed his brother speculatively. “Well, if you’re not worried about jealous husbands, then maybe Jules Bradford has put a hit out on you.”

The edge of a wry smile appeared on Dalton’s lips. “If I haven’t put one out on her first.”

Caden rolled his eyes. “Seriously?”

Dalton nodded. “Seriously.”

“I meant that as a joke.”

Dalton shrugged broad shoulders. “Can’t say the same.”

“Then you have issues. And, from the sound of it, they are rejection issues.”

The smile dropped from Dalton’s face. “I can handle rejection, Caden. What I can’t and won’t tolerate is a woman who tries to play me.”