A Brother's Honor (27 page)

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Authors: Brenda Jackson

Tags: #Mystery, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: A Brother's Honor
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She saw a glint of passion shroud his eyes. “Now that you mention it, there is something that stands out.”

“What?”

“The sex.”

She wanted him to break it down even further. “What about the sex?”

He stared at her. “It was great. Off the charts. Pretty damn remarkable. And...”

She held his gaze, lifted a brow. “And what?”

“And I want more. I want you. Now.”

Jace knew he had a lot of nerve saying that to her. He knew her rules about an office affair and had agreed to avoid one, which is why they had decided on this secret affair in the first place—one that was in its third week. Yet here he was, in the office, horny as hell and asking for the one thing he knew better than to ask for. It wasn’t her fault he desired her more than he had any woman, including his ex-wife, or that his penis was throbbing mercilessly. With him standing in front of her desk, she might be a witness to it.

He opened his mouth to apologize, to ask her to forget what he said, when she surprised him by saying, “I want you, too. Now. But not on the desk again. That day Bruce did a security scan of your father’s office, I noticed a sitting room with a sofa. Let’s use that.”

Surprise lit his gaze, and he wondered why she would be so accommodating, but decided not to question his good fortune. A smooth smile overtook his features and he said in a throaty voice, “Come with me, baby.”

She stood, came around her desk. He took her hand in his, and together they crossed the room to the door that connected her office to his father’s.

He unlocked it, and they went inside and locked it behind them.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“M
ercy,” Jace muttered before closing his eyes and placing a hand over his face, convinced he would never move again. Never had making love to a woman been so damn draining. His blood was pounding like he was about to take his last breath. He was convinced there was no way he wasn’t paralyzed from the penis up. No man in his right mind stayed hard this long. There had to be a law against this much intimacy with a woman. If there was, they might as well handcuff him, put him in shackles, toss him in jail and throw away the key. He was guilty as sin.

And speaking of sin...

He dropped his hand, opened his eyes and looked down. Shana was beneath him, passed out with her limbs entwined with his, and in a position where the tip of one dark nipple pressed against his cheek. Tempted to go another round and giving in to it, he slightly moved his head, opened his mouth and sucked the delicious morsel between his lips at the same time his hand lowered to gently caress her stomach.

He heard that first moan moments later, which was followed by a close second. Then instinctively, she arched her body at just the right angle so he could slide inside of her, while inwardly calling himself one greedy ass. When he’d gone deep, he didn’t move, he just wanted to lie there a second to savor the feel of being skin-to-skin, flesh-to-flesh with her again.

But she wasn’t having any of that. She slowly opened her eyes and reached out, grabbed his head and pulled his mouth away from her breasts to her mouth, sliding her tongue between his already-wet lips. And then she proceeded to kiss him in a way that had him moving, had him pumping, thrusting and taking her hard.

She wrapped her legs around him tight, locked him inside her, where he had no choice but to go in and out. And he did, whipping moans repeatedly out of her. He liked the sexual sounds filling the air—her moans, skin slapping against skin and the creaking of the sofa getting one hell of a workout.

Suddenly, an orgasm rammed through him, nearly knocking him backward. He felt his release shoot far and deep into her womb, and for a second, he thought of his semen targeting one of those eggs and quickly forced the thought from his mind. A couple engaged in an affair didn’t have sex for babies. They had sex for pleasure. And this was pleasure of the richest kind. When she screamed his name and spasms began moving through her body, he knew she had gotten her pleasure, as well.

* * *

“I can’t find my panties,” Shana said, looking everywhere, around the sofa, beneath the cushions and by the table.

She shot an accusing glance over at Jace, who had just slid into his pants. “You sure you don’t have them?”

His lips eased into a smile as he reached for his shirt to put it on. “Now, why would I take your panties?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I heard some men get a kick out of doing that sort of thing. They see it as a trophy of a conquest.”

He chuckled, possibly seeing Dalton doing some crap like that. “Trust me...that’s not me.”

Still naked, Shana eased down on her knees to reach her hand under the sofa to feel around and then she looked at Jace and frowned. “That’s odd.”

He was buttoning his shirt. “What is?”

“This sofa has a secret compartment.”

His brow furrowed. “A secret compartment?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“See for yourself.”

He moved to her as she stood, and with little effort, he pushed the sofa over on its side. And sure enough, the entire bottom had opened to reveal a neat-looking trunk. Shana had never seen anything like it.

“I must have activated it somehow when my hand was fumbling around.”

He nodded and then handed her the missing panties. “Here you go.”

“You did have them!” she accused, sliding into them.

“No, they were stuck inside my shirt. I wasn’t aware of it until I put my shirt on.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

His mouth curved into a smile. “I liked seeing you naked on all fours. It gave me plenty of ideas.”

Shana rolled her eyes as she slid into her skirt while glancing back at the sofa. “Why do you think this sofa has a secret compartment?”

Jace drew in a deep breath. “I’m not sure, but I’m going to find out.”

Turning his attention back to the secret compartment, he slid open a drawer and raised a brow when he saw a file folder. “Umm, what do we have here?”

Taking the folder, he put the sofa back on its legs and then sat down. Shana, who had finished dressing, dropped down beside him. “What is it, Jace, and who does that file belong to?”

“Evidently, my father,” he said, opening it up. He read the first document, and Shana felt him tense beside her. “What is it?”

He glanced up at her. “This is a letter from a Ms. Yolanda Greene dated almost sixteen years ago. And she was writing my dad to inform him, just in case he didn’t know, that my mother was having an affair with her husband.”

Jace then opened the packet of pictures, and several fell out. They were pictures of his mother with another man...in several intimate poses. Jace shoved them back in the packet and then handed them to Shana.

She looked at them and knew how it must feel for a son to see such photos of his mother. “She was beautiful,” she said, which was the truth. Her sons had her light brown eyes and long lashes.

“I always thought so,” Jace said softly. “Until now.” He drew in a deep breath.

Shana didn’t know what to say to that. This was one situation she couldn’t offer any advice on. But she would be here if he needed her. Shoving the photographs back in the packet she asked, “Do you know them? The Greenes?”

Jace nodded. “Yes, I know them. Michael Greene worked for Granger for years. Then my father fired him. I never knew why.”

“And when was that?” she asked.

“Two months before my mother was killed.”

Shana nodded. “May I read that?” she asked, indicating the letter.

Jace nodded and handed it to her. Moments later, she lifted her head. “This woman is threatening your mother, all but saying she would come to a not-so-nice end if your mother didn’t leave her husband alone. Was this presented as evidence in your father’s defense?”

Jace shook his head. “I don’t think so. This is the first time I’m hearing about any of this. Michael and Yolanda Greene weren’t at my grandfather’s funeral, but Ivan Greene was.”

Shana lifted a brow. “Ivan Greene, the same one who’s running for mayor?”

“Yes, same family. Ivan is the oldest son. He’s ten years older than I am. They also have two daughters my age.”

Shana handed the letter back to him and looked up when he cursed. “And just to think the prosecution’s case was built on the premise that my father was the one having an affair and killed my mother during a heated argument because she wouldn’t give him a divorce. They never came up with the mystery woman. All they had were these receipts to several hotels signed by an S. Granger. It’s hard to believe no one ever thought to assume the
S
could stand for Sylvia instead of Sheppard.”

“Why didn’t your father say something to clear his name? And to cast doubt from him to Yolanda Greene? All it would have taken was reasonable doubt in the jurors’ minds.”

Jace stood, tucking the file under his arm. “Not sure, but I’m going to find out. And the only person who can answer that question is my father. It’s too late to make that call tonight, but I plan to do so first thing in the morning.”

* * *

Dalton pushed the covers back and eased out of bed. What the hell was wrong with him? With all the bullshit that had gone down at Granger today, you would think that crap would be occupying his mind, making it difficult to sleep. But the thoughts plaguing him had nothing to do with Granger but with that woman in the bar Saturday night.

At first, he’d made up his mind to find her, but then by the time he’d awakened Sunday morning, pissed that his desire for her had ruined the rest of his evening at that club, he’d thought WTF, he was not going to find her and to hell with her.

But last night and now tonight, he was tormented with visions of her in those stilettos and that barely there dress. And his visions hadn’t stopped there. Now he was dreaming about making love to her to the point that it almost seemed real.

Walking into his kitchen, he felt for the first time ever that his condo was small, cramped, tight. He wasn’t used to being so confined. He needed to get away for a while and knew Jace wouldn’t like it if he did. Caden wouldn’t like it, either. Now wasn’t a good time with all the craziness that was going down. Besides, he was in charge of the Security Department, and Jace was depending on him to stay on top of things.

Opening the refrigerator, he grabbed a beer bottle, then popped the top. He needed to stay focused on Granger and not on some woman whose body he wanted with a passion. Taking a deep swig of beer, he felt the cold liquid as it trickled down to his stomach and wished it could cool off his pecker, as well.

Knowing that wasn’t possible, he finished off the beer and headed back to bed, hoping he could get some sleep this time around.

* * *

“Caden, there’s someone here to see you.”

Caden glanced at his watch before turning around to Hannah. “It’s after ten. Who is it?”

“Shiloh Timmons.”

He muttered an expletive deep in his throat. “Send her out here, Hannah.”

He turned back to stare up at the stars. This was to be his peaceful moment, which was something he needed after all the stuff that had gone down at Granger today. But now Shiloh had invaded it.

He picked up her scent before she spoke a word behind him. “Hello, Caden.”

He turned around. It was then that he drew in a sharp breath. The moonlight combined with the porch lanterns hit her at an angle that made her look even more beautiful than she was. He immediately hardened his heart at such a stunning picture of exquisiteness.

“What do you want, Shiloh?”

“We need to talk, Caden.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

“But I need to tell you why I—”

He threw up his hand. “No. I don’t want to hear it. It was years ago. Doesn’t matter now.”

“It does matter, Caden. I can’t let you hate me any longer.”

He chuckled derisively. “You don’t have a choice.” He paused a moment and then said, “I believed in you. I trusted you, and I loved you. Damn it, Shiloh, I waited for you to show up. Waited days in a damn hotel room in Vegas. But you never came, and then I saw those pictures and knew why. There were pictures of you half-naked lying on a private beach someplace with one of those rich businessmen your father was trying to woo.”

“No! That wasn’t—”

“Frankly, I don’t want to hear it,” he interrupted crossly. “You mean nothing to me now. In fact, I can’t stand the sight of you.”

He saw the tears forming in her eyes but hardened his heart against any reaction to them. He wanted to hurt her the same way she had hurt him. She had not only torn out his heart, but her deceit had trampled it.

He stood there, emotionless, and stared at her, wanting her to see he’d meant everything he’d said. Moments later, she turned and walked off the porch and into the house to leave.

He turned back around, staring up at the sky. But instead of feeling peace, he felt pain.

* * *

Jace put in the call to his father first thing the next morning before leaving for the office. The warden promised he would allow Shep to call him back within the hour. His cell phone rang within twenty minutes. “Hello?”

“Jace, what’s wrong? Warden Smallwood said for me to call you. Said it was extremely important.”

Jace had already spoken to his father yesterday to let him know about Freeman and the others involved in the trade-secret scandal. He had awakened to see it dominating the local news with photographs of Swanson, Arrington and Freeman flashing across the screen. And just in case the good people of Charlottesville had forgotten, a photograph of his father—taken fifteen years ago—had flashed across it, as well, reminding everyone that the former CEO of Granger Aeronautics was presently in prison, serving time for killing his wife.

Jace drew in a deep breath. “I was in your office yesterday, Dad. I found the secret compartment embedded in the sofa. I saw the file.” He paused a minute and then asked, “Why didn’t you tell the authorities it was Mom having an affair and not you?”

Sheppard tightened his hand on the phone and closed his eyes. He’d never wanted his sons to know. They loved their mother, thought the world of her and...

“Dad, please tell me why. That could have possibly cleared you.”

“Or strengthened the prosecution’s claim of a motive. They would have claimed I killed Sylvia out of jealous rage. It wasn’t worth taking the chance. She was the mother of my sons, and I refused to let her name be dragged through the mud just to clear me, when there was no guarantee that it would have.”

“But you had that letter from Yolanda Greene, threatening to do Mom bodily harm.”

“Yes, and Yolanda came to see me while I was out on bail. She was nervous and scared that I would turn it over to the authorities and she would be implicated. But she had an ironclad alibi. Both she and Michael did. The week your mother was killed, they had taken a cruise together, trying to repair their marriage. They were thousands of miles away from Charlottesville, so neither of them could have been involved.”

Jace’s jaw tightened. “Are you certain of that? She could have been lying.”

“Yes, I’m certain. Dad checked out their story. They were trying to save their marriage, and I didn’t see the need to let the world know about Michael’s and your mother’s indiscretions.”

Jace inwardly cursed. His father was too much a man of honor, caring for others when no one cared a crap about him. Someone was willing to let him take the rap for something he didn’t do. He tried to make his father see reason. “If it wasn’t one of the Greenes, then it was someone else. Maybe Ms. Greene hired someone to do it and—”

“Maybe you’ve been watching too many episodes of
NCIS.

Jace frowned. “Dad, I’m serious.”

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