So here she was again, for the second time this week, at Dalton’s home, trying to get him to go along with her way of thinking. As far as she knew, he had not changed his mind about attending Shana’s party tomorrow night, but the matter she now needed to discuss with him was much more important. To her, it was a matter of life and death.
After the briefest of hesitations, she opened her car door and got out, noticing how much the temperature had dropped since the noon hour. Her leather coat was little protection from the cutting cold and icy winds, the result of an earlier downpour.
There was no need to be concerned with the car that had followed Dalton home tonight. Stonewall Courson was no longer being discreet. He’d parked and was sitting with the window down as if he were enjoying the chilly weather. She could tolerate a lot of things, but cold weather was not one of them. After living most of her life in Boston, she should be used to it, but she wasn’t. She was aware that Stonewall had noticed her vehicle the moment he had parked. He had glanced her way, seeming to acknowledge her presence, after which he ignored her, knowing she was no threat.
She decided to speak when she passed by his car. “Stonewall.”
He tilted his head in a nod. “Ms. Bradford.”
Was that presumption she saw in his eyes, like he knew the reason for her late-night visit to Dalton? At the moment, she couldn’t have cared less what he assumed and continued to make her way to Dalton’s front door. Suddenly, it began raining again, and she increased her pace when the showers began coming down in earnest.
Before she had time to react, a huge golf umbrella covered her. She glanced up into Stonewall’s face and realized she hadn’t heard him get out of the car. The man was too much like a panther—sleek, deathly quick and quiet—for her peace of mind. Oh, she needed to include muscular, as well.
“I’m sure Dalton wouldn’t want you to get wet.”
Honestly? Dalton wouldn’t care if the rain drowned me, she thought, forcing back a laugh. Stonewall had the nature of her relationship with Dalton totally wrong, but she didn’t have the time or the inclination to explain anything to him. Instead, she simply accepted his gesture of kindness. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
As soon as her feet touched the floor of Dalton’s covered porch, she heard Stonewall say, “Enjoy your night,” and then he was gone through the rain and back to his car.
Enjoy her night? In Dalton’s presence? He had to be kidding. In fact, he might be a witness to just how much she and Dalton disliked each other when he opened the door to find her standing there. Dalton might slam the door in her face or even refuse to answer it. She knew she was taking her chances coming here unannounced tonight, but she’d also known he wouldn’t take a phone call from her if she’d made one.
The rain began pelting down harder, and because of the wind the covered porch did little to shield her from it. She tightened her coat around her with one hand and lifted the other hand to ring his doorbell.
*
Dalton had stepped out of the shower and begun drying off when he heard his doorbell. Stonewall was parked outside, so if the person had gotten past his watchdog, that meant there was no threat. The one thing he’d figured out about Stonewall was that he pretty much had everything under control. The man was there when he left in the morning and was on his tail when he came home at night. Dalton just didn’t get it. It was storming outside—who in their right mind would want to sit in a car all night in the rain? He had invited him inside, but Stonewall had refused his offer, saying he would be fine. He liked the rain and cold, because during those years he was locked up, he’d been without both.
Wrapping a towel around his waist, he walked out of his bedroom toward his front door. Playing on the side of caution, he took a look out the peephole and blinked. WTF? Jules? Again? What the hell did she want?
He opened the door and stepped aside to let her in, telling himself there was no need for him to stand in the doorway and catch pneumonia, even if it looked as if she had a mind to. Why was she out in the pouring rain? “You better have a good reason for coming here at this hour and in this weather.”