“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.