Captivated by Love (Grangers Book 1)

by Brenda Jackson

  He paused when they reached the door, moving aside to let Ambrose open it. Attorney Boyett stood when they entered the windowless room. “Ambrose. Mr. Granger,” she acknowledged.

  Ambrose smiled. “Attorney Boyett. I’ll be over here if you need me.” He then crossed the room and sat down in a chair.

  “Attorney Boyett. How are you today?” Sheppard said, entering the room.

  She smiled. “Fine and you, Mr. Granger?”

  “I’m doing okay. Thanks for asking.”

  She nodded. “I thought today we should meet on Matthew Fontane.”

  He lifted a brow. “What about Fontane?”

  “There’s a problem. Can we sit down to discuss it?”

  “Sure.”

  She sat down and he tried not to notice how the hem of her skirt raised a little, giving him a glimpse of her thigh. Today she was wearing another business suit, this one olive green, with matching pumps. Unlike the other day, when her hair had been pinned up on her head, today it was hanging down past her shoulders. She had a lot of it and the thick dark-brown strands looked silky to the touch. He could imagine running his hands through them.

  “Now then,” she said, opening a folder on the desk. “I see that you meet with him twice a week and have done so for the past two months.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” He leaned back in his chair. If he sat too close to her, he would be tempted to reach out and touch her. He wondered just how young she was, though he guessed her to be in her early thirties.

  “How that’s been going?”

  He rubbed his hand down his face, feeling a little frustrated. Why was he wasting his time being attracted to a woman he couldn’t have? Being attracted to any woman period? “Fine. Why do you want to know about Fontane?”

  She glanced up at him and their gazes met and held a minute. “The family of the man whose life he saved wants to do whatever they can to help reduce his sentence.”

  Sheppard nodded. “That’s good news.”

  “I think so, too. The only problem is that Fontane can’t seem to keep out of trouble. As a result, the parole board has refused their request.”

  Sheppard knew that wasn’t news Fontane would want to hear. “Anyway they’ll change their minds?”

  “I doubt it. But what I can do is request another hearing in six month’s time, to see if his behavior has improved. If it has, they might reconsider.”

  “I’m sure that would mean a lot to him, Attorney Boyett.”

  “We’ll see. I just wanted you to know, so when you meet with him again, you can strongly suggest he starts improving his attitude.”

  “Okay, I will do that.”

  “Great. And while I have you here, I thought we could discuss Amari Carmen and Rourke Blackman. If things continue to improve with them, I might be able to get the last year of their sentences reduced to community service.”

  “That would be great!”

  They spent the next hour or so going over her other cases. More than once, she’d caught him staring at her. Then at other times, he would glance over and catch her staring at him. When that happened, she’d quickly turn her attention back to the files in front of her. The last thing he wanted was to make her nervous. Although Ambrose was in the room, Sheppard had noticed the prison guard had taken a crossword puzzle out from his pocket. The guard seemed far more interested in doing his puzzle than witnessing Shep and Attorney Boyett’s inability to keep their eyes off each other.

  “Well, that’s it, Mr. Granger. I appreciate your time.”

  “Time is what I seem to have a lot of these days,” he said standing. “I’d like to ask you something though.”

  She stood as well. “What?”

  “Why do you do this? I understand you have a nice law firm in Charlottesville, yet you spend a lot of time here. Why?”

  She smiled. “My parents were community activists and I learned a lot from them. I lost them when I was fifteen. There was a robbery that went very wrong at the bookstore they owned.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “Thank you. I recall that one of my dad’s pet peeves was the number of petty crimes that could land a person in jail for life without any chance of parole. He felt the system sometimes created criminals instead of rehabilitating them. So, over the years, it became one of my causes. I decided to work within the system to make changes, anyway I could. I feel that’s the least I can do to honor my father’s memory.”

  Ten minutes later, Sheppard was walking with Ambrose, back toward the area where his cell was located. He was lost in thoughts about Carson when Ambrose said, “She’s something else, isn’t she?”

  He heard the admiration in Ambrose’s voice. “Who? Attorney Boyett?”

  “Yes. She’s been coming around for about four years. Before that, she worked out of Glenworth. All pro bono. I’m surprised your paths never crossed.”

  Maybe it was a good thing that they hadn’t, Sheppard thought. “Glenworth is a big place.”

  “I know. I turned down a job offer there. I figured the warden and I wouldn’t get along. That was before Warden Grady. I understand he’s been doing great things the five years he’s been there.”

  “He has.” There was no need to tell Ambrose how he’d butted heads with the former warden at Glenworth, Warden Fisher, many times.

  “Do you know if Attorney Boyett is married? I noticed she’s not wearing a wedding ring.”

  “She’s divorced. My wife knows someone who used to work with her at the State Attorney’s Office. Attorney Boyett made a name for herself when she took on a high profile case. Even put her life on the line in doing so.”

  “What happened?”

  “A cop discovered some of his fellow officers were on the take. Before he could blow the whistle, he was framed and sent to prison for fifteen years at Glenworth. His wife hired Attorney Boyett to get him a new trail. She did. The man had served three years before finally leaving prison a free man, but not before the bad cops murdered his wife and tried killing Attorney Boyett as well.”

  Sheppard felt a sharp pain around his heart. “I hope they got the bastards.”

  “They did. All the cops responsible were arrested and are now serving time.”

  Sheppard’s heart went out to the man who’d lost his wife. Then, knowing that Attorney Boyett could have lost her life as well, his heart started pounding. At least those responsible were behind bars.

  At that moment he couldn’t help but think about the person who’d killed his wife, Sylvia. Her murderer was still out there.

  He knew everyone assumed he was Sylvia’s killer. The prosecution had convinced the jury that he’d been having an affair and killed his wife when she refused to give him a divorce. The truth was just the opposite. Sylvia was the one who’d been involved in a number of affairs. At first, he figured she’d been killed by one of her lovers, but the more he’d thought about it, the more he believed her death had nothing to do with her extramarital affairs but was instead a cover-up for something bigger. Exactly what, he wasn’t sure. But that was the reason he and his father had hired a private investigator. There was more to this story than anyone knew. And he was counting on Marshall Imerson to uncover the truth.

  #

  Long after Ambrose and Sheppard Granger had left, Carson continued to sit in the windowless room alone, absorbed in her thoughts while trying to regain her composure. She was determined to figure out why a man like Sheppard Granger had such a profound effect on her.

  She was a logical person. And in this situation, she needed to be rational. Carson had to figure out what there was about Sheppard Granger that made her lose all coherent thought, the common sense she was born with and the self-protective wall she’d erected around herself since her divorce.

  Since meeting Sheppard Granger, she couldn’t get him out of her thoughts, her dreams. That’s why she’d been nervous about meeting with him today. She’d been determined to prove to herself that all those emotions regarding him were mere
ly figments of her imagination. After their meeting today, she wasn’t sure that was all it was. After all, the man was fascinating to the eyes, well-built and well-mannered. Then there was something else. She believed that he was a man who would hurt himself before hurting anyone else. That puzzled her, since he was locked up for the murder of his wife. However, for some reason, that charge just didn’t seem to fit him.

  If her assumptions were wrong about a man, it wouldn’t be the first time. They’d definitely been wrong about Pence Denmark, and she had the scars to prove it. She’d only been a few weeks shy of her twentieth birthday when she’d met Pence. From their initial meeting, he’d come across as the perfect gentleman--suave, charming and so polite. Within six months, they’d married and she thought they would live happily ever after.

  Within months, however, she’d found out just how wrong she was about him. The only good thing that had come from her marriage had been her in-laws. Stanley and Emma Denmark had been the best and wouldn’t hesitate to call out their only child regarding his mistreatment of her. Pence often accused her of turning his parents against him.

  She had wanted to retain her close relationship with them after the divorce, but he wouldn’t allow it. To keep peace between Pence and his parents, she’d left Florida. Although she missed the close relationship she’d shared with her in-laws, it had been a good decision. She’d heard that Pence had remarried a year after their divorce.

  She stood and began pacing when her thoughts shifted back to Sheppard. During their meeting, the sexual tension between them had been obvious each and every time their gazes collided. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Ambrose hadn’t picked up on it. And at the end, when they’d shaken hands, something akin to a throbbing sensation had swept through her.

  She drew in a sharp breath, knowing she had to put a stop to this mental madness about Sheppard Granger. There was no way she would allow anything to develop between them. Regardless of her intense attraction to him, she was too old for fantasies.

  #

  “You wanted to see me old man?”

  Sheppard glanced up when Matthew Fontane entered the room. “Yes, have a seat, Matthew.”

  “And what if I said that I preferred standing?”

  Sheppard drew in a deep breath, determined not to let Fontane rattle him. Others had tried and failed. All he had to do was think about Striker and Stonewall. If those two hadn’t succeeded in rattling him, no one could. “Suit yourself.”

  “So why did you want to see me?” Fontane asked again.

  “I might have some good news to share with you,”

  Like he figured it would, that got Fontane’s attention. “What?”

  “You might be leaving here sooner than planned.”

  He watched the young man’s eyes light up. “About damn time. When do I start packing?”

  “Nothing is final. It depends on your attitude around here and--”

  “Whoa, wait a fucking minute,” Fontane cut in to say. “I don’t plan to start jumping through hoops for anybody. I didn’t do anything wrong. If it wasn’t for me, that old bastard would be dead. I stayed back to help his ass. I shouldn’t even be in here.”

  Sheppard just stared at Fontane. The two of them had been meeting periodically now for months and Fontane just couldn’t accept the fact he was just as guilty as those who’d run off but were eventually caught. The only difference was that he’d shown he had something his friends lacked—a conscience. That was why his pals were doing fifteen years and he’d only gotten five. But for Fontane to continue to think that he shouldn’t be serving any time, that was preposterous.

  “You know what, Matthew? One day, you’re going to accept that nobody owes you anything. Like the rest of us, you have to prove your worth, make good on your given situation and--”

  “Don’t hand me all that bullshit. You’re a fine one to talk, Mr. Use-To-Be-CEO. You might not mind your freedom being taken away but I do. I hate it here. I hate the guards watching me all the time. I hate not being able to even piss in private. I hate the damn food I’m eating. I damn well hate all of you. So don’t tell me about how I have to act just to get out of here. I will act any damn way I please.” Then in an act of rebellion, Fontane kicked over the chair he’d refused to sit in.

  Sheppard was up in a flash and grabbed Fontane by the collar, shoving him into the chair he’d vacated. “Is that what you think, Fontane, just because I refuse to act the ass like you do? That I like being here and having my freedom taken away? Well, let me tell you how wrong you are. I left behind three sons. Three sons who needed me. Three sons I miss like hell, each and every single day. But like a lot of the other guys in here, I’m trying to make the best of the situation. None of us likes this place any more than you do, but we’re dealing with it, and I suggest you do the same and stop whining.”

  “I won’t deal with it.”

  “Then you’ll be responsible for whatever happens,” Sheppard said, hating the way Fontane’s nasty attitude was affecting other inmates.

  “And it will be my business, old man. Not yours.” Fontane jerked himself out of the chair and stalked to the door. When he opened it, a prison guard stood there waiting to escort him back to his cell.

  “Not sure if that kid will ever come around,” Ambrose said, reminding Sheppard of his presence in the room

  Sheppard didn’t say anything for a long minute. “He will eventually, Ambrose. Maybe not in time to get an early release, but hopefully before his five years are up. I refuse to give up on him.”

  Fontane wasn’t the first young man to try and push his buttons and probably wouldn’t be the last. But Shep would get through to him, eventually, the same way he’d gotten through to all the others. The rewards of hanging in there were worth it, especially when he saw how well the majority of them were doing. And what he liked more than anything was that the guys stayed in contact with him. They came to visit him from time to time to let him know how well they were doing. And those who couldn’t visit would contact Sheppard through email to let him know where they were and that they were okay. Those men had become his surrogate family. They had helped him to endure his time behind bars just like he’d helped them.

  “You’re a man with a lot of patience, Sheppard. Not everyone would put in the time.”

  He told Ambrose what he’d told Attorney Boyett earlier that day. “Time is what I seem to have a lot of these days.”

  3

  Biting her bottom lip while her fingers gripped tight on the handle of her briefcase, Carson ignored the loud clicking of her heels on the tile floor as she quickly walked through the halls of the prison’s administration building. With every step, she tried to downplay the pounding of her heart, the escalation of her pulse and the erratic sound of her breathing.

  She tried convincing herself that her anxious state had nothing to do with Sheppard Granger and the fact they would be meeting again today. It had been three weeks since their last meeting and he’d constantly been on her mind. It hadn’t helped matters when she’d decided to go online and uncover every single thing she could about him…about the time before he was accused of murdering his wife. As far as she was concerned, anything after that was marred with sensationalism--media attempts at gaining high ratings. She wanted to know what the press had thought of Sheppard Granger when he’d still been the golden boy. After reading about all his accomplishments, she thought of him more as the Boy Wonder.

  Born Sheppard Maceo Granger forty-seven years ago; closer to forty-eight since he had a birthday coming up in a month or so, he was the son of Richard and Ava Granger and was heir to the Granger empire. He’d had a baby brother who’d died at birth when Sheppard had been four. That baby had been named Jace; the name Sheppard had passed on to his firstborn son.

  Sheppard had graduated from high school at sixteen, got his MBA at twenty, married at twenty-one and became a parent at twenty-two. His wife, the former Sylvia Gadling, had come from a wealthy Boston family. From the pictures
she’d seen of them together, Sylvia’s stunning beauty and his jaw-dropping handsomeness had made them a striking couple.

  He’d received possibly every business award imaginable, on both a local and national level. And each time, his wife had been by his side to glow in his success. What was even more impressive was that he’d become known for always doing his best to give back to his community. His company was always in the forefront to support any and all worthwhile causes.

  The articles showed photographs of Sheppard in his early twenties and through his late thirties. She didn’t know of any man whose looks got better with age.

  When Carson reached the door to the media room, she paused and drew in a deep, calming breath. She had assured herself before she’d left her office that she would be more in control when she saw him, but had a feeling that was wishful thinking. She should have called and cancelled today’s meeting. She’d started to do that a number of times, already. What was the point in meeting him today when all she would do is sit there and practically drool while her panties got wet? She shook her head. No matter what, she would not let her attraction to Sheppard Granger be her downfall.

  Opening the door, she swallowed the moment she saw him sitting at the table. Looking across the room, she saw Ambrose sitting in a chair in the corner. Both men stood upon seeing her.

  “Sorry I’m late. Traffic from town was a little crazy today,” she apologized.

  “No harm done, Attorney Boyett,” Ambrose said.