What Happens In Vegas... Doesn't Always Stay There (10 page)

him as a wicked grin emerged on her lips.

“Sorry. You want this remote, then you’re going to have to take it from me. I’m not giving up

that show without a fight.”

He chuckled and allowed his eyes to scan her. Unlike in Vegas and at her boutique where she

was dressed to kill, tonight she was wearing a plain pair of jogging pants and sweatshirt and her hair was up in a high ponytail. She looked nice – approachable. She had a girl-next-door

sweetness about her tonight that touched him.

Sensing his scrutiny, she inched away, but her eyes remained glued to him – continuing to

challenge.

“We’re seriously going to play it like this?”

Genevieve nodded, her smile widening. As their eyes locked her body tensed as if she were

about to leap from the sofa at any second.

Dane lunged at her. She squealed and attempted to squirm from the sofa, but didn’t stand a

chance. She fell backward onto the sofa, her arms behind her back with his weight toppling over

her.

“Give it!” He reached behind her back, searching for the remote but coming up empty.

“Not a chance!” Giggling, she squirmed and bucked under him, until her legs spread with

him settled between them.

Dane groaned inwardly; her squirming under him wasn’t achieving her objective of getting

free, but it was giving him a serious hard-on. He attempted to lift off of her, but her wiggling

kept knocking him off balance and instead he kept rubbing against her. It was excruciating, and

at the same time so fucking hot it was driving him insane.

“Might as well give up, Ginny,” he grunted through clenched teeth, pulling up and staring

down at her. He wanted to be a gentleman. Had to be to make up for Vegas, but she was making

it so
damned
hard.

Her face grew serious and body went still under him and he thought he’d won. He was both

disappointed and relieved.

“So, we’re done. I win.” Relaxing, but remaining between her legs, he stuck his hand under

her nose and wiggled his fingers. “Give it.”

The defiant look flared back up in her eyes and she shook her head. “Take it.”

Instead of digging behind her hoping to strike remote gold, he sat up on her, straddling her

waist and keeping her secure to the sofa.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Her eyes narrowed and she scowled at him.

He wiggled his fingers at her. “One last chance Ginny.”

Her green eyes grew wide, her lush lips parting. She bucked up against him, trying to toss

him off. “Don’t you dare Dane!”

“A dare?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and pounced.

She squealed and giggled, squirming and bucking against him with every ounce of power she

had. “No no no. Stop. Oh my God. Dane!” Her hands grabbed the front of his shirt and attempted

to push him off to no success.

Changing tactics, she pulled him down. Thrown off balance, he landed flat on her, causing a

soft “oomph” sound to come from her. Terrified he’d hurt her, he struggled to get up, but she

clutched to him and they both went toppling over and onto the floor, Genevieve landing on top of

him.

It was his turn to groan a low “oomph” sound. “This isn’t fun anymore.”

“Oh my God, are you okay?” She braced a hand on either side of his head and stared down at

him.

Dane couldn’t keep his eyes from her lips, lush and plump. And her perfume… It was driving

him mad, begging him to draw her tight into his arms. He wanted to kiss her so badly it hurt, and he didn’t think he’d ever wanted to kiss someone so badly in his life.

It’s the perfect opportunity. Just reach up, pull her down to you and kiss her
, he coached himself. The tension between them thickened until it became hard for him to breathe. Just as he

made the decision to go for it his mobile phone started to blare in his pocket. And just like that, the moment was gone and Ginny was scrambling to get off of him and seat herself back onto the

sofa.

Fuck!
He sat up on the floor and pulled his phone from his pocket. Looking down at the

display,
Graham
flashed in bright red letters. Sending the call straight to voicemail, he turned off the ringer and thrust the phone back into his pocket.

As he looked up at her, Genevieve held the remote out to him. The moment was over.

Chapter 8

~ Genevieve ~

This is incredible!
Grinning from ear to ear, Genevieve looked down at the array of

handbags, wallets and small leather goods sitting in front of her on the front counter. She even

scored a Chanel watch! She’d spent two days calling every customer in her Rolodex to find

people willing to part with their treasures and it panned out. It wasn’t near the amount of stock she’d had stolen, but it was a start to rebuilding.

Grabbing the pink Versace trench coat, she pulled it on. It was snug. Disappointed, she

walked over to a full-length mirror and examined the coat on herself. The seams at the shoulders

strained.

Shit! So close... Twenty pounds and I might be able to pull it off.

“Going out?” The deep voice was becoming all too familiar; the question was which brother

did it belong to?

She spun around to see Graham removing his hat as he came strolling into the boutique,

wearing his NYPD uniform and carrying a wicker basket. Definitely sexy, with a sliver of sweet

thrown in. But mostly hot – the belt with his pistol and handcuffs strapped to it gave him a

dangerous feeling.

“Hey you.”

“The jacket looks beautiful on you.”

She frowned as she turned back to the mirror. “Thanks. It’s too small, though. Versace

doesn’t make normal people-sized clothes.”

Graham laughed as he came to stand behind her. His frame was twice the size of hers,

making her feel tiny, despite the fact the jacket was a little snug.

“Normal people-sized clothes?”

“Yeah. If you’re any more than a hundred and twenty-five pounds you can forget clothing

from most of the designers I sell here, unless you’re rich enough to be able to afford to

commission a piece. You can sometimes get lucky with Gucci.” She shrugged. “I settle for the

bags, shoes and accessories.”

He frowned as he met her gaze in the mirror. “That’s crazy.”

“Designers feel their clothing doesn’t hang well on curvy women. In some cases that’s true.”

She turned and grabbed a gold jumpsuit from the rack. “I don’t think they realize how horrible

this looks on rake-thin women. Something like this should be made for women with soft curves,

but…” she shrugged. “Who am I to tell the big designers what looks good?”

“I can’t imagine anything looking bad on you.”

She smiled at him in the mirror, a rosy hue colouring her cheeks. “Thank you. But you’d be

surprised.” Stepping away from the mirror, she struggled out of the jacket and draped it over her arm. “So what brings you to my little nook in the city?”

He lifted the basket to her eyes. “I told you I’d be back to feed you again. And here I am.” He

looked around the boutique, which was currently void of any customers. “Do you think you

could tear yourself away to spend lunch with me?”

“Ass. It
has
been busy.” Laughing, she gave his shoulder a shove as she walked past him and motioned for him to follow her over to her front counter.

“So that’s a….”

“A yes. Of course, I’ll have lunch with you.”

~*~*~*~*~

~ Graham ~

Graham watched as she stretched out on her side, propping her head up with one hand while

she took a bite out of her ham and cheese sandwich. The way the rays of sunlight shone off of

her dark hair was mesmerizing to him. He couldn’t get enough of looking at her. It had been hard

staying away the past couple of days, but he didn’t want to come off as too strong or pushy.

“So what’s it with you and your brother and feeding women?” She set down the sandwich to

take a long drink of water. “I recall him mentioning back in Vegas that he loved cooking for

dates.”

“We’re from a large, hungry Italian family.”

Her brow furrowed. “Italian?”

Laughing, he nodded. “My father is half Italian and half Irish. My brother and I took on the

Irish traits, physically, but our mother is full Italian and we grew up in Staten Island. I think you’d fit in beautifully with my family. They’re pretty great. A little overbearing for the most

part, but great.”

“Call me ignorant if you want, but shouldn’t you have the deep, Staten Island/Italian accent?”

He cleared his throat and decided to allow his accent free rein. “We do, but we’ve learned to

get rid of the accent if we try. It sneaks in once in a while, but for the most part we can keep it from coming out.”

Genevieve’s eyes lit up and a wide smile emerged on her lips. “That is sexy! Why would you

want to hide it?”

He cocked his head to the side and eyed her. “You think so?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’ve got an odd sense of sexy, woman.”

Her eyes sparkled as she considered. “I don’t think so. I don’t think there’s a woman in this

park who wouldn’t want to go home with you.” She rolled over to her back and her gaze

surveyed the park around them. “In fact, I bet they’re hating on me right now.”

Graham laughed. “Not so sure about that. Dane’s the woman’s man. We’re identical twins,

but he’s always been the one to get all the women. He’s a cocky bastard, but it works for him.

I’ve never been able to harness his magic.”

“Maybe you have your own magic.”

He cocked a brow at her, waiting for her to continue. He had to admit he was extremely

flattered. He usually wasn’t on the receiving end of compliments, or at least he hadn’t been for

some time, and it felt good. Being married and being cheated on with the FedEx guy had been a

humbling and ego-bruising experience.

Being around Genevieve made him feel good – carefree – unlike any woman he’d met before

her. He was glad he wasn’t going to have to compete with Dane over her, but if it came to that he was willing to go head to head. Luckily it wouldn’t come to that; in Vegas Dane had been quite

clear she was “just another girl” and when he’d informed Graham that he’d found her, he made

no indication he had any interest in pursuing her. But if it came to a battle for her affections, then game on!

~*~*~*~*~

~ Genevieve ~

Genevieve hadn’t ever come across a man so handsome, yet so humble in her life. It was

endearing. Dane seemed to be the wild and challenging twin while Graham was the sweet, funny

and secure one. After her experience with Alex, sweet and secure was an extremely good feeling

– although Alex
seemed
to be sweet and secure as well and she knew how that turned out. She saw Dane’s faults, he seemed to wear them on his sleeve – revelled in them even, which made

her wonder if Graham really was as perfect as he seemed to be.

Now you’re just being paranoid Genevieve
, the voice at the back of her mind chastised.

“What’s the matter?” Graham asked as he reached across the picnic basket and brushed a

lock of hair from her face, breaking her from her thoughts. His touch was light, tender, sweeping across her temple and causing a soft sigh to come from her parted lips.

“Nothing. Just thinking about how different you and your brother seem to be. Not that I know

either of you very well,” she shrugged, “from what I’ve experienced so far.”

She watched his reaction, wondering if he knew Dane had shown up at her house the

previous evening. Maybe this was some kind of game the brothers were playing; a challenge to

see who could win her over? Dane possibly, but she just couldn’t see Graham doing something

like that. Then again… Alex had her fooled and Graham had let her go down on him thinking he

was his brother.

“Just because we’re identical physically doesn’t mean our personalities also are. Growing up,

Dane was always the outgoing one. He’d drag me into his insane schemes and I’d go along to

make sure he didn’t kill himself or get arrested doing something stupid. We had different friends, had different likes. Even our taste in women is different.”

Genevieve’s interest piqued, curious on what Graham’s opinion on what Dane’s normal

would be like. And she couldn’t help but wonder about his ex-wife. “How are your tastes

different with women?”

He took a bite from his sandwich and considered. “I love my brother and I usually try to

refrain from saying negative things about him…”

“But…”

“But, he has a tendency toward the hot, wild ones. He’s never too concerned about what’s

upstairs as long as they look good on his arm. Some of the ones he’s brought home over the

years were plain bat-fuck-crazy, but hot.”

She cringed. She wasn’t sure if she was flattered or hurt by Graham’s statement. But she

knew the score the night Dane had picked her up at the casino. She’d known – more or less – that

the night would end up with them in bed.

“Why does he go for those types?”

“He’s the type who indulges in immediate gratification?” He shrugged, quite visibly bemused

himself. “Just his personality. He’ll eventually see there needs to be more to a woman than her

looks. He’s just not interested in being there quite yet. Maybe he figures if he finds a woman

who challenges him mentally he’d feel compelled to give up his carefree lifestyle for her and

settle down.”