Too Much: A Loveswept Contemporary Erotic Romance (All or Nothing) (16 page)

Once there, she got ready slowly, showering and then going so far as to repaint her nails—fingers and toes. She’d waxed last week, so her skin was smooth all over. Still, she spread on her Lancôme lotion and rubbed it in. She dried her hair and then straightened it. The brown length glowed in the muted light of her bathroom. Daly put on minimal makeup—a little blush, mascara, and lip gloss.

She found her favorite little black dress, and after pulling on a red garter belt and black stockings she stepped into the dress sans bra and zipped herself up. On her ears she wore diamond studs and around her neck, nothing. The feel of anything against the skin there was abhorrent for some reason, and she forced her mind away from those thoughts.

She strapped on her delicate Rolex watch, grabbed her clutch purse and wrap, and then stepped into her heels. Taking one last look in the mirror and determining she looked passable, she headed out.

As soon as she stepped out the door, she knew someone was on her porch. She reached for her pepper spray and had just gotten it out when a male’s voice called out.

“It’s me, Daly.”

She looked around until she saw David Copeland, leaning against her porch railing. “What’s up, David?” she asked cautiously.

“Not much. Just wanted to stop by and talk to you for a few minutes,” he responded dully.

“Um, you couldn’t have maybe called first? What’s it been, David, a year since I saw you last?” Their offices were across the street from each other but she rarely ran into him. The last time had been when one of her kids was arrested and tried for assault. As the district attorney,
he’d dropped the charges on the condition the kid went into a rehabilitation program for anger management.

She locked her door and was grateful she’d made sure her ride was there before she stepped outside. It gave her a reason to hightail it out of there.

“Yeah, maybe that long. Listen, I can see you’ve got a car here. I guess you’re hitting the Juvenile Justice/DFCS fund-raiser tonight downtown, but I wanted to talk to you about …”

She cocked her head and stared at him in the weak light of her porch lamp. “About?”

“My brother,” he said in a rush.

She raised an eyebrow. “Your brother?” she asked skeptically.

He nodded and slid his hands in his pockets. His body language told her he was uncomfortable. If that was the case, he was no more so than she. David had once been her friend. Then he’d been the bane of her existence. If not for David, Jeremiah would never have ventured back to the dark side and she’d never have been forced to leave him.

Slow your roll there, girlfriend.
Her brain put on the mental brakes. Had it not been David it would have been something, or someone, else. The fact remained that his love for Daly hadn’t been enough to keep Jeremiah from going back to a life of crime. And yeah, okay, it hadn’t been a
life
of crime, just a single act, but that act had been the wedge that drove them apart.

“Daly?”

Her gaze snapped to Jeremiah’s brother and she winced. “Yeah?”

“Look, I heard from someone that you’re seeing Jeremiah again, and I just wanted to—”

Daly held up her hand and stopped him. “Not sure who told you that, David, but more importantly, I’m not sure how that’s any of your business?”

He fidgeted and shifted from foot to foot, refusing to look her in the face—in fact, looking everywhere but at her. “It’s not, really, it’s just that I like you and I don’t want to see you—”

She held up her hand again. “Discussion over, David. You and I haven’t spoken in over a year. You know nothing about me or my life. Now, I have somewhere to be. I’m not sure if this is some misguided attempt at friendship or if you’re into something over your head, but rest assured, I don’t need relationship advice from you.”

His shoulders drooped and he looked … defeated.

“David, what’s going on? I gave your ring to your brother the other night. Are you in trouble?” she asked.

“No. I’m not in trouble,” he answered swiftly. Too swiftly.

Yeah, sure.
“Okay then. Well, since you’re not in trouble and I don’t need relationship advice, I should be going. Good seeing you, David.”
Or not so much. Awkward maybe. Not
good.

He reached for her as she stepped off the porch. His hand dug into her arm and she hissed in pain. She didn’t want to hurt him, but if she had to, she most assuredly would. “Hands off, David.”

The man was sweating and his eyes were wild, moving from shadow to shadow as if he were afraid someone was listening. “He’s bad news, Daly. Just keep away from him, okay?”

“Bad news? Oh, David, you sound like a really bad B movie. Also? You’re a day late and a dollar short. Tell you what, why don’t you get your hand off my arm and I won’t report your behavior to the State.”

He dropped his hand immediately.

“Go home, David. Get some rest,” she urged. With that she turned and walked to the car.

The driver let her in, and she asked him to stay there until David had gotten in his car and left. Then she leaned her head back against the seat and watched Atlanta roll by. David was in trouble despite his denials. That was why he’d left the ring on her doorstep. And here Daly was, back in the thick of things with Jeremiah.

She needed a drink.

Maybe three.

Copeland noticed her the moment she walked into the ballroom. His breath stilled while everything else faded away. She was smiling up at some man who’d grabbed her arm the minute she’d come into the room, and Copeland irrationally wanted to rearrange the man’s face. Possibly break a few bones with his hands.

How dare he touch what belonged to Copeland?

“What’s the matter, lover?”

His desire died a cold, hard death. The taste in his mouth was reduced to ashes instead of the phantom taste of Daly’s skin. He glanced dismissively at the woman beside him and didn’t answer.

“Seriously, Copeland, you’re going to have to play better than this if you want folks to think we’re together,” Detective Savannah Cavanaugh whispered.

She was right. He’d come here tonight, with her, for one reason. Exposure. Toby had gathered some interesting facts about the call placed to the police the other night. The call had originated from Copeland’ brother’s house. David vehemently denied being the caller, which meant someone had made a call from his house hoping to have the trail lead back there. Whoever it was had also known Daly was at the club that night.

Someone was trying to use David and Daly as a means of getting to him. Copeland had stayed away from Daly the last few days, trying to gather more information and give the impression she meant nothing to him.

He’d gone so far as contacting Savvy Cavanaugh, and she’d agreed to look into it. Tonight, Savvy was a means to an end, but Copeland had to at least act like he enjoyed being with her.

He hoped like hell David would have him some answers this weekend at the lake house but until then, Copeland needed to perpetuate a certain façade.

And that façade didn’t include the woman who had yet to notice him. His hands fisted as rage moved through him. The man was talking animatedly to her, hand on her elbow and eyes dipping to her cleavage.

Nobody had the right to look at her but Copeland. It was unrealistic but nonetheless true. Of course men would vie for her attention. She was a beautiful woman.

Her skin glowed and that little black dress she wore fit her perfectly. Off the shoulder, it cupped her breasts lovingly before slimming along her waist and flaring out in a flirty skirt that
ended above her knees. Five would get Copeland ten that she was wearing thigh-highs. His back teeth ground together.

“Are you growling?” Savvy asked. Her face expressed concern; the tone of her voice, disbelief.

Copeland cleared his throat. He hadn’t touched Daly in three fucking days. Jacking off to thoughts of the woman who completed him had done nothing to abate his lust. If he made it through tonight it would be a goddamn miracle.

“Seriously, Copeland. You’ve got to stop staring at her like a lovesick puppy. The wrong person sees you and she could be right back in the middle of this,” Savvy said with annoyance.

He glanced back down at the woman taking him to task and smiled. It was probably more a baring of his teeth, but it couldn’t be helped. She wasn’t the one he wanted to have his arm around. “I’m good, Savvy. Drop it.”

Savannah Cavanaugh had once been a submissive he played. She occasionally visited The Underground looking for part-time play with Dominants. She was also a cop. He had availed himself of her a few times after Daly left him. He’d also made the mistake one night of pouring out his heart to her in a drunken stupor and she’d never let him forget it.

Earlier tonight she’d given him some pretty fucking interesting information. Tapping one of her street informants, she’d discovered that someone was looking to take down Jeremiah Copeland and was willing to pay through the nose to do it. Copeland had put two and two together and come up with four. It made this business with Savvy tonight difficult but necessary.

He hadn’t seen or spoken to Daly in three days.
Three. Fucking. Days.
And he had to see her here and act like she meant nothing to him. Toby was a master at establishing connections and ferreting out information. He was on the trail of whatever was going on. There were a few pieces to the puzzle, but not enough yet to form a picture. No one had made a direct play against Daly, so she seemed to be relatively safe; still, Copeland had someone watching her twenty-four/seven just to be sure.

No, Copeland was the objective, the one they wanted out of the picture. They were willing to use Daly and apparently David to see that happen, though Copeland felt confident they weren’t in any immediate danger. This reeked of something very personal. His hand clenched as anger stole through him.

His brother knew something and Copeland would find out exactly what this weekend. But in order to make sure his woman remained safe, he’d gone along with Savvy’s plan. Someone tapped a champagne glass, and the tinkle had everyone’s heads turning to the podium set up onstage at the back of the ballroom. The Honorable Heyward Edwards stood there, his gray hair perfectly coiffed, tanned skin glowing, and his brand-new trophy wife beside him.

“Don’t look over at Daly, Copeland,” Savvy warned out of the side of her mouth.

Copeland stopped himself from doing just that. Barely.

“I’m so glad the Department of Family and Children’s Services and the Department of Juvenile Justice are here tonight,” Judge Edwards said in a deep, booming voice. “Many of Atlanta’s children need your support, and so I’m here to officially ask you to open your hearts,” he paused for effect, “and your wallets, for Atlanta’s endangered children.”

Applause erupted around the ballroom.

“And there’s my lovely daughter,” he said with a cheesy grin. “Come on up here, Dalia, and share a little bit about the mentor program you’ve recently begun.” He held out his hand.

“Like father like daughter, I wonder?” Savvy whispered.

Copeland could no more stop from seeking her out than he could stop breathing. She was the brightest thing in the ballroom even though her dress was black. The lights picked up subtle sparkles embedded in the fabric, but she shone even more brightly. Her long brown hair was pin-straight and fell in a lush curtain down her back. He’d had those locks wrapped around his fist the other night as she’d sucked his cock.

He drew in a deep breath, and Savvy looked up at him with a question in her gaze. He ignored her and looked back at Daly. Her face was tight, but she persevered and forced a smile even as she refused to take her father’s hand.

His woman was so damn strong.

Her father’s face didn’t betray what Copeland knew had to be a shitload of anger at her refusal. He just continued to smile and clap his hands as his gorgeous daughter addressed the crowd.

“As Judge Edwards said, Atlanta’s children do need you to open your hearts and wallets, ladies and gentlemen. The Juvenile Justice Department along with the Department of Family and Children’s Services are co-sponsoring an agenda called Jeremiah’s Program.”

Her words kicked Copeland in the gut. Tingles started at the base of his spine and worked their way up, tightening his scalp.

“This program is a mentor program, specifically designed to pull in children off the street, get them into schools and possibly homes, and give them an opportunity to succeed.” Her gaze moved over the crowd, seeming to touch on every single person until she came to Copeland.

Surprise flared and he held her gaze, refusing to relinquish it as his mind shouted silently for her to continue looking at only him. Her gaze flitted to the woman beside him and her face tightened.

She recovered within the span of a few seconds and licked her lips before she nodded at him. She was pissed. It was written in the thinning of her lips and the flatness of her gaze. Copeland wondered if it was because he hadn’t contacted her or because he was standing beside
Savannah Cavanaugh.

“I’m sure there is a more in-depth outline of the program and how you can individually help sponsor in the handout you’ll each receive as you leave, but it is my goal as the program’s ideological head to give children hope. Because if there is one thing every child needs, it’s hope.”

The crowd clapped and Daly stepped down, making a beeline for the exit. Copeland prayed that people waylaid her long enough for him to get to her. At that moment, nothing mattered but her knowing he wasn’t there
with
Savvy.

“Don’t tell her, Copeland. She could unknowingly give whoever is doing this information,” Savvy said.

Copeland’s mind halted. He couldn’t tell her. He didn’t even know what
this
was. And once again it was three years ago. He hadn’t been able to tell her the truth then and he couldn’t tell her now. He hadn’t had time to re-cement their bond. She would never step out on a limb and trust him now. Would she?

Maybe he had loved her hard enough that all hope wasn’t lost.

“I’ve got to talk to her, Savvy. She’s hurting,” he ground out.