The corners of her lips curved into a barely there smile, just enough to let him know his T-shirt didn’t bother her. “Nice shirt. I need to get one for myself, because I lick, as well.”
Bam. As she expected, heat suddenly swirled in his eyes. Men. They could try to be cool, smooth and suave. But at hearing the first word connected to sex from a woman’s lips, they would become primitive creatures who thought a good lay would ease all of their troubles. She hated admitting it but, at the moment, she was thinking the same thing.
“Then maybe we can have a licking party one of these days,” Dalton said, intruding into her thoughts.
She momentarily tightened her lips to refrain from saying, Yum yum. Instead, her response was, “Trust me, that won’t be happening.”
He shrugged as he gestured for her to sit down on the sofa while he sat down in the wingback chair. “I’m listening.”
There was no doubt in her mind as she sat down that Dalton knew just what women thought of him. Some would even find him irresistible. Eye candy so sweet it could be considered sinful. She’d watched when he eased down in the chair and noted the way his khakis stretched over powerful thighs. The thought of a female’s body being held tight by those thighs while he rode her to glory had her shifting positions in her seat.
“You okay?”
His voice was a rough caress that seemed to rake sensuously across her skin, sending luscious shivers down her spine. But, of course, she wouldn’t tell him any of that to feed his already overstuffed ego. “I’m fine.”
“Glad to hear it. Now you were saying...”
How could a man look intrigued and sensuous at the same time? She held his gaze, and was it her imagination, or had the air surrounding them taken on a deliriously stimulating aura? And why had it begun feeding her sexual hunger? Forcing the thought from her mind, she said, “As I stated earlier, I intend to find your mother’s killer.”
“Why?” he asked with obvious annoyance in his tone. “You never knew my mother, and you don’t know my father. As far as I know, you’ve never met him.”
“No, I haven’t,” she agreed. “But I don’t need to meet him to want an injustice overturned. Besides, my father met him, and his opinion is good enough for me.”
He waved off her words. “Stop trying to sound so damned noble. I refuse to believe that you don’t have an ulterior motive for wanting to find my mother’s killer.”
She didn’t respond immediately but gave him a long, hard stare. “You’re right. I do have an ulterior motive. My sister. Your brothers might not have a problem with dragging their wives into your family madness, but I do.”
Dalton leaned forward, and the anger that stiffened his jaw was radiating off him. “My brothers do have a problem with it, but I was told that it was those same wives, especially your sister, who reminded them of the vows they took together. That we promise to love and protect each other bullshit.”
Jules wished at that moment she could say something in Shana’s defense, but she couldn’t. That’s why she hadn’t discussed any of her plans with her sister. Since falling in love, Shana’s entire attitude and outlook on things had changed. Jace wasn’t just her husband. He was now her soul mate...at least, Shana was convinced he was. In Shana’s present state of mind, there was nothing she wouldn’t do for her husband, including agreeing to place her own life in danger.
And Jules could probably say the same for Caden’s wife. She’d seen the pair together and could feel their love and affection, the strong hold of their commitment and dedication to each other. That degree of love for another person was downright scary.
“Okay, we can agree that it’s Shana’s and Shiloh’s choice, but I intend to do something about it before somebody gets crazy. Somebody like the actual killer.”
“And you think you can just walk in and solve a case that’s been closed for fifteen years?”