A Man's Promise. Brenda Jackson
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Granger didn’t go looking for any woman. There were too many out there to suit his fancy, and usually it was the other way around. Women came looking for him.
So why was he here doing the very thing he swore he wouldn’t do? Why was he willing to hire a private investigator to find the one woman who’d gotten away? The one who had snubbed him at the nightclub.
He could answer his own questions. Because she was a novelty. Different. Pretty damned refreshing. And, besides that, he had a feeling she would be hot in bed. Any woman who wore stilettos on legs like hers had to be. Damn. He would find this mystery woman and find out for himself just how hot she was. For her, he would make her an exception.
He walked toward the receptionist. “I’m Dalton Granger. I have an appointment with Mr. Harris.”
“Yes, Mr. Granger. Mr. Harris is expecting you.”
“Lead the way.”
She stood and led him to a door and, without knocking, she entered. “Mr. Granger is here.”
The man sitting behind the desk reading a sports magazine glanced up and stood, smiling. “Mr. Granger, thank you for coming in. I understand you want me to find someone for you.”
Dalton nodded. “Yes, Mr. Harris, I do.” The man had come recommended by Myron, the bartender/owner he’d met while frequenting McQueen’s, a sports bar and grill not far from Granger Aeronautics. Myron swore that Emory Harris was one of the best in the business and that he specialized in missing persons. Usually it was deadbeat dads that Emory Harris tracked down, but Dalton figured if he was as good as Myron claimed, then he would give the man his business.
“Please have a seat, Mr. Granger,” Harris said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.
“Thank you.” Dalton heard the receptionist leave, closing the door behind her.
“Would you like something to drink? Thanks to Myron, I keep a pretty well-stocked bar.”
“No, thanks. I’m fine. How did the two of you meet?”
Emory, who looked to be in his late forties, smiled. “Myron’s wife and I went to college together and remained close friends.” He paused and then said, “I understand you’re looking for someone. A female. Is she your ex?”
Ex? Boy, was he way off, Dalton thought. “No, she’s a woman I met one night at a club. She seemed to be in a hurry, and when I asked for her contact information, she rushed out and called over her shoulder that I should find her...and I intend to.”
“She must be some woman if you’re willing to go to the trouble.”
For a second Dalton thought about what Harris had just said. He’d already beaten himself up about what he was doing. It was so unlike him. But then all it took was for him to remember how she looked walking into that club—stilettos, legs and a shapely figure any man would appreciate. He had done more than appreciate it. He’d been lusting after her ever since. Shit, the woman was interfering with his sex life, making it hard for him to desire any other woman. He thought it would have passed by now, but so far, it hadn’t. He needed to meet her, talk to her, have sex with her a few times to see why she had such an effect on him. And she definitely was having an effect. He got an erection every time he thought about her.
“Yes, I guess you can say she was some woman. So, you think you can find her?”
“I’m sure I can. I’ll need the name of the club. She might be a regular there.”
Dalton gave him the name of the club, which Harris jotted down.
“Did you see what kind of car she was driving?” he asked.
Dalton shook his head. “No. By the time I walked outside, she was driving away, and it was dark.”
Harris nodded. “Describe her.”
Dalton smiled, thinking. Gorgeous legs. Firm breasts. Curvy ass. But to Harris he said, “She was pretty. Sexy. Hot.”
Harris stared at him for a minute and then asked, “What about her skin tone? Eye color? Hair color? Did you notice any of that?”
Dalton had to really think hard about it. “Brown skin. Brown eyes. Brown hair.”
Harris nodded as he jotted the information down. “Notice anything else?”
“She was wearing Amarige.”
Harris looked up. “Excuse me?”
“Her perfume was Amarige. Nice fragrance on a woman, and it smelled super nice on her.”
Harris lifted a brow. “You’re so familiar with fragrances that you can name one?”
Dalton shrugged. “Yes. I guess I can. I’m a bit of an expert.”
Harris chuckled. “I would definitely say that you are.” He leaned back in his chair. “I have a case I’ll be wrapping up over the next week or so, and then I’m on it.”
Dalton smiled. That was what he wanted to hear. He couldn’t wait to see the woman again.
Five
Jace knocked on the closed door.
“Come in.”
He entered the office, locking the door behind him, and his gaze immediately went to the woman sitting behind the desk. Shana Bradford. When he’d hired her almost three months ago, he had been attracted to her from the first. The sexual chemistry between them had been undeniable, and they both knew it. Being the professionals that they were, intent on keeping their relationship strictly business, they had tried ignoring the attraction...until it got the best of them.
They’d been having a secret affair. But now that was about to come to an end. She was pregnant with his child, and he intended to put a wedding ring on her finger.
Her smile was radiant and warmed not only the room but his heart. “Jace, what are you doing here? I left you in bed.”
“I noticed. I thought we both decided to stay away from the office for a few days, clear our heads, get our heart rates back in sync.”
She leaned back in her chair. “You needed to do that more than I did. Did you talk to your dad?”
“Yes, Warden Smallwood let him take my call immediately.”
“And?”
He drew in a slow breath, moving away from the door to stand in front of her desk. “And, unfortunately, he heard about the kidnapping attempt on the news. He was upset. He was glad I was okay and realized how close he could have come to losing me.”
Shana nodded. “I know the feeling.”
Jace didn’t say anything for a second and then added, “And he’s upset about Vidal. He couldn’t believe it. The man had been a family friend for years. Now I’m sure he’s wondering just how far back the man’s treachery went and whether perhaps he could have been involved in my mother’s death.”
Shana sat up straight in her chair. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“I have,” Jace said. “So have Caden and Dalton. But I don’t think he was.”
Shana lifted a brow. “Why?”
“Vidal said a lot of things while holding that gun on me, convincing me I was about to take my last breath. He had no problems bragging about all his misdeeds—including siphoning funds for the company from right under my grandfather’s nose. He seemed to take great pride in confessing all the things he’d done. If he had killed my mother, he would have bragged about it before killing me.”
Shana thought about what he said. “You might have a point.”
“I do,” he said, coming around her desk, pulling her out of her chair and rubbing a hand over her stomach. “I had planned to tell my brothers about us and