Jules glanced at her watch. Although she had no earthly idea about Dalton’s social calendar, it was after eleven. Most people who worked the next day would be settled in for the night. But then, she wasn’t dealing with most people. She was dealing with Dalton Granger, who thought his single status and good looks gave him the right to any woman he wanted. The man who frequented nightclubs to pick up women, regardless of the day of the week or the time of day. The same man who could make her see red faster than any man she knew.
She scanned up and down the street again. Her car windows were tinted, but if the driver of the vehicle was observant, he would have noticed her car was running. It wouldn’t take long for him to begin wondering the same thing about her that she was wondering about him. Why was she just sitting in a car and not getting out?
Jules nibbled on her bottom lip as she came up with a plan, one that could expose the person who’d followed Dalton home. Reaching under her seat, she retrieved her gun. Once she had her loaded Glock securely in her hand, she tucked it inside the inner pocket of her coat. Now she was ready to handle business. She would pretend to be one of Dalton’s late-night visitors. For Dalton, that would definitely be believable. After quickly apprising him of the situation, she would leave his condo through a back entrance. That way, she could circle around the building and catch the person in the black car by surprise.
*
Dalton hugged the pillow to his head to drown out the insistent ringing of his doorbell. What the hell? He’d been in the middle of the most sinfully erotic dream and didn’t appreciate having it come to an end. Who in their right mind would be at his door at this time of night?
He hoped Jace and Shana hadn’t had their first big fight so Jace wanted to sleep on his sofa. That wouldn’t be happening, so he might as well take his ass over to Sutton Hills. Dalton would love to be there when his brother explained to their long-time housekeeper, Hannah, why he was back already.
But then, it might not be Jace. It could very well be Caden at his door, Dalton thought, angrily getting out of bed and grabbing his robe. Then Caden’s ass could go to Sutton Hills, as well. Nobody told them to get married, and he wasn’t running a damned boarding house.
When he reached his front door, he peered through the peephole and blinked. Jules Bradford? Shit, he must be seeing things. There was no way the very woman he’d been dreaming about moments earlier was standing outside on his doorstep. He looked through the peephole again. Miss Whirlwind? She wasn’t an illusion. His porch light was clearly shining on her.
He cautiously opened the door, and the moment he did, she threw herself in his arms and whispered, “Pretend you’re kissing me.”
That request earned a brazen chuckle from deep in his throat. Why pretend? Unable to resist, he pulled her into his arms, lowered his mouth to hers and used his foot to slam the door shut behind her.
Four
Jules heard a throaty growl just seconds before Dalton’s mouth connected with hers. She had been about to push him away, but that was before his tongue had tangled with hers, before his scent had filled her nostrils, before she could feel the brush of his fingertips across the side of her neck.
This kiss was only supposed to be pretend. So why were they locking lips? Why had that greedy sigh slid from her throat, and why on Earth was she kissing him back? It might have everything to do with the way his tongue was dominating hers, stroking it into submission while sending erogenous shivers through her body. What kind of kiss had the ability to do that?