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Authors: Robin Kaye

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BOOK: Yours for the Taking
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“A beer would be great.”

Sam tossed him one. “When did you get back to town?”

“Last night.”

Leaning against the counter with his big feet crossed, Sam looked as if he owned the place, making Ben feel like the outsider. He didn’t like it. He saw subtle changes in the kitchen. A funky cookie jar on the counter definitely wasn’t on the list of furnishings he’d agreed to buy. He remembered something like it in Sam and Tina’s apartment. Not to mention the cheap dishes in the dish drain.

Since he’d moved Gina in himself, he knew they didn’t belong to her. Either she went shopping for cheap dinnerware when she had perfectly good china in the cabinet, or Sam and Tina were living there.

“So when did you and Tina move in?”

Sam took a pull off his beer and raised an eyebrow. “Observant, aren’t you? You would have made a good cop.”

Ben looked at him a little harder. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“A week or so after you left. Gina tried to give us money for a down payment on a house in the suburbs, but Tina and I don’t take charity.”

“She probably wasn’t happy to hear that.”

“No.” Sam smiled. “Not happy is an accurate description. Since Tina’s gotten it into her head that Gina’s afraid to live alone—”

“Really?”

Sam shrugged. “It’s hard to believe. I’ve seen Gina take on men twice her size and have them shaking in their shoes within a minute.”

“Are you talking from personal experience, Sam?”

“Actually, yes. He is.”

They both turned and found Gina posing in the doorway wearing a blue taffeta wraparound cocktail dress. “For your information, I am not afraid of living alone. And yes, I have made Sam want to go running for his mama on more than one occasion. You too can share in the experience, or would you rather have that dinner you owe me? Your choice.”

Ben stared at Gina and just about swallowed his tongue. Shit, she was hot when she dressed like the normal, loud Gina. When she dressed like this, she decimated him. It might be safer for him to stay on her bad side. It wasn’t half as scary as her good side.

Gina put her hand on her cocked hip. “I don’t need your permission to invite my family to move in with me. What I do is none of your business.”

Ben fought with himself to make a decision.

“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?”

“It’s nice to see you too.”

Gina took one a good long look at Ben in his suit, looking tan and edible. What did he do? Take a weekend trip to the Mexican Riviera? It would be so much easier to fight with him than to be nice. She gave him the eye, daring him to say something about Sam and Tina moving in with her. When he smiled, she did her best not to melt.

Tina came in through the swinging door and pushed Gina toward Ben. “Wow, you two look like you’re going to a prom.” Tina smiled at Ben. “You know, Gina never went to her prom. We should take pictures.”

Ben stood a little straighter. “That’s a great idea. We never did get a wedding picture, the lack of which was pointed out to me repeatedly when I was in Idaho.”

Gina stepped back and shot a venomous look at her little sister, the brat. “I hate pictures.”

Ben smiled down at her, as if he was enjoying her plight. “Come on, just take a few. I need them to prove you actually exist.”

“Who did your grandfather think you were talking to every night? The phone-sex hotline?”

“I didn’t ask and I honestly don’t want to know.”

Tina shooed them into the living room and Ben walked to a spot in front of the fireplace over which a beautiful oil painting hung. Knowing him, it was probably priceless. He faced Gina and pulled her close. The man didn’t only look edible, he smelled good enough to eat. The musky citrus scent was impossible to ignore.

“You wrinkle my dress and you’ll be sorry.”

Ben held her tighter. “Smile, sweetheart.”

Tina took what felt like dozens of pictures; Gina had all but lost her temper by the time the doorbell rang. A perfect excuse to get out of Ben’s arms and well away from his warm body. When she pulled the door open, she came face to face with an old man with white hair wearing a western suit with a bolo tie and cowboy boots. On anyone else, it would have looked ridiculous. With this dude, though, it worked.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you to answer the door correctly? You’re living in New York City, little lady. You don’t even ask who it is?”

“I’ve got a cop and a cowboy here and I live in Brooklyn. Manhattan is across the river if you’re lost.” She noticed a limo waiting on the street. “But then your driver could probably find it on his own.”

Someone came up behind her. Gina knew it was Ben; Sam never stood that close.

“Gramps? What the hell are you doing here?”

Gina should have recognized the sparkling blue eyes; the fact that Ben’s grandfather’s held a more mischievous glint wasn’t comforting.

“I need an invitation to visit my only grandson and his bride?”

Ben opened the door further and his grandfather stepped in, his eyes locked on Gina. Ben put his arm around her, his eyes never leaving his grandfather. “Not an invitation, but a warning would be nice. Gina, this is my grandfather, Joe Walsh. Gramps, this is Gina.”

The old man smiled and looked around the room before walking over to Sam and Tina.

Ben groaned. “Tina and Sam Corrigan, my sister and brother-in-law. Guys, this is my grandfather, Joe Walsh.”

Sam shook hands with the old guy. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“It’s nice to meet my new granddaughter and her family, finally.” He shot a pointed look at Ben and then smiled at Gina. “You’re all gussied up to go out I assume. It’s good timing. I have a car waiting.”

Gina laughed. “So you’re leaving?”

Ben’s grandfather chuckled. “No, I’m joining you. We have a lot to discuss. Like when you’re gonna get your pretty little self on my plane to Idaho. Ben, get your wife a coat. It’s too damn damp here in New York City. Gina, just wait until you get out to Boise; it’s a high-mountain desert so you don’t feel the dampness in your bones like you do here. You don’t mind me tagging along, do you?”

Gina shook her head and laughed at him. “Why would I mind? I’m just as excited to go out to dinner with you as I am my new husband.” Ben helped her into her new cashmere wrap and shot her a warning look that she ignored. She just thanked God she remembered to take the tags off it before she hung it in the closet. Before she knew it, they were pulling up to the front of Tavern on the Green. They checked her wrap and were shown to their table.

As a kid, Gina had been caught with her nose pressed against the glass looking in at the people at high tea in a room filled with crystal overlooking Central Park. Who’d have thought she’d actually get to eat in that very room? The trees outside were covered in fairy lights; candles and crystal chandeliers lit the room and reflected off the glass walls. It was incredible, magical, and the most expensive place she’d ever set foot in.

Joe didn’t miss the wide-eyed look of wonder that crossed Gina’s face as they were shown to their table. Ben held her chair and the little filly was surprised. Joe had done his homework and had gotten a bit of information about the girl. He also knew that Ben hadn’t stayed with her the night before. Sure, he’d arrived late and it was easier for him to go to his old place, but Joe had thought a man would want to snuggle up with his new wife instead of bedding down alone in a cold, empty apartment. Seeing them together, Joe was sure he was being duped. He didn’t like it, but in the time it took them to get to the restaurant, he knew even though the marriage might be a sham, there was a hell of an attraction between the two. Even an old geezer like him couldn’t miss that. Joe ordered champagne and congratulated himself on how well his little plan was going to work.

“I thought since you have so many bedrooms in that new house of yours, I’d stay with you. I hate hotels.”

Gina was just taking a sip of her water when she choked on it. Ben patted her on the back. “You can stay at my place in the city, Gramps. I haven’t had time to move my things into the new house yet. I only had enough time to get Gina’s things moved in before I left.”

Joe always knew when his grandson lied; the boy could never look him in the eye. “You’re not going to have time to do it this trip either. Not that it’ll matter much. You and Gina are coming home with me.”

Gina opened her mouth to say something, her eyes blazed, and Joe had to admit, she was one hell of a good-looking woman when she was about to explode. Ben put his hand on hers and squeezed it. Gina was a smart girl, and she quietly simmered.

When the champagne was served, Joe raised a glass. “To Gina, I’m happy to see my new granddaughter is no shrinking violet.” He took a sip and leaned over to whisper to her. “Ben needs a strong woman who’s not afraid to stand up to him.”

“Gramps.”

Joe waved his grandson’s warning away. “That’s what Ben’s problem has been from the beginning. He went out with women more concerned with his money than the man. They didn’t want to stir the pot or anything else. No wonder the boy got bored with them. He’s certainly not bored with you.”

Gina shot him a tight-lipped smile and then started in. “Mr. Walsh—”

“Little lady, you don’t have to call me Mr. Walsh. You can call me Joe, or Grandpa Joe, or just Gramps would work too. Mr. Walsh makes me feel my age, and believe me, no one wants to feel that old. Not even me.”

“Fine, Joe. I can’t possibly go running off to Idaho with you. I just started a new case—”

Joe patted her hand and Gina slid it as fast as she could from beneath his. The girl had spirit; he’d give her that. “I spoke to your boss, a sweet young thing named Rosalie Romeo. Did you know her husband is the owner of Romeo’s, the chain of car dealerships?”

“Yes, I know all about Nick Romeo. I was at their wedding.”

“Of course you were. It’s a small world, now isn’t it? Nick and I ran into each other a few years back. That boy’s a hell of a businessman.”

“Joe, back to the topic at hand. I just started a new job—”

“I told Rosalie that you and my boy here have yet to have a honeymoon. Now we can’t have that, can we?”

“Joe—”

“It turns out you’re not much for vacations, you have a lot of time saved up. Now is the perfect time to take that honeymoon. That sweet bit of a girl, Rosalie Romeo, agreed with me when I told her it was my wedding gift to you and Ben. She said she’d personally take care of your client until you get back next month.”

Gina closed her eyes for a moment and looked as if she were trying to hold her tiger of a temper by the tail. Joe sat back to enjoy the show.

“Joe, while I appreciate the offer, I’m in the middle of a job and now is just not the right time for me to go.”

“Nonsense, it’s a done deal, little lady. You’re going on your honeymoon and we’re leaving just as soon as you pack your bags. A few weeks up at the family ranch will do you two a world of good.”

“I don’t fly.”

Joe couldn’t hold back his laugh. Hell, he was eighty years old, he’d earned the right to laugh as loud as he wanted to, even in a swanky place like this. “Wanna bet?”

Chapter 6

Ben walked into the master bedroom with his suitcase after showing Gramps to the guest room.

Gina slammed the door so hard the walls shook. “You didn’t warn me that your grandfather was a cagey old fart.”

“I believe I did, which is why we bought this house and took all the precautions with the prenup in the first place.”

“Does he think he can just buy everything and everyone he wants? Here’s a newsflash for you, Ben. I’m not for sale.”

Ben sat on the bed and leaned back against the pillows. “He just forced you to take a vacation. If you have a problem with that, I guess you need to talk to Rosalie. Knowing Gramps, though, I think it’s safe to say it would be a waste of time.”

He watched her pace the room. She was a little bundle of energy about to explode. “It’ll be fine. Once you’re in the plane, you can pretend you’re in a really nice bus. Why don’t we call Dr. Mike? I’m sure he could prescribe a couple of Valium to get you through the trip. I’ll wake you after we land.”

She turned on her heel. “I don’t do drugs.”

“Gina, it’s not as if it’s heroin. It’s just something to help you relax.”

“No. No drugs.”

“Fine, we’ll give you a couple shots of vodka and it’ll be over before you sober up.”

She hugged herself. “I’ll take a bus or a train. How long could it take?”

“Days.” Ben shook his head. “Gina, flying is safe. You have nothing to worry about. Besides, you’ll be with me.”

“Oh, and just what are you going to do when we crash? Sprout wings and whisk us away from the fireball? I don’t think so.”

Ben went to her and put his hands on her very tense shoulders, massaging them. “Come on, Gina. Let’s go to bed and get some sleep. Things will look better in the morning.”

She turned around and faced him. “And just where do you think you’re going to sleep?”

Ben couldn’t help but smile. “Here with you. I can hardly take the next bedroom. Gramps is in there. I think he’ll notice.”

She shook her head, her bangs flying to and fro and then rearranging perfectly, tapering down to her cheekbone.

“Whatever happened to the bed being as big as your first apartment? I’ll stay on my side, you won’t even know I’m there.”

“Sleeping together wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Yeah, and neither was flying. Things change and we have to improvise.”

“Improvisation? Is that what you call it?”

“Whatever works.” He pulled his suit jacket off and hung it in the closet before he emptied his pockets on her dresser. She rummaged through a drawer full of nightclothes. Ben had spent long sleepless nights imagining what she wore to bed. He’d pictured her in everything from flannel grannies to peek-a-boo nightgowns and unfortunately for him, she looked hot in all of them. He purposely didn’t look at what she’d picked out. He wanted to be under the covers before he got a load of Gina in sleepwear. As it was, he was glad his trousers were pleated. It was going to be a long night.

Ben brought his shaving kit to the double vanity and brushed his teeth. Gina walked past and slammed the door to the bathroom. He heard the shower running as he stripped down to his boxer-briefs and wondered what side of the bed she preferred. Since he couldn’t tell, he slid to the center.

Gina emerged from the steamy bathroom wearing a tight, pink, racer-back tank night gown, which ended at mid-thigh but left nothing to the imagination. God help him. She turned off the lights and climbed in on the side closest to the bathroom, opened her bedside table drawer, took out a black satin sleep mask, and donned it.

“I can’t believe you wear that thing to bed. I thought people only wore those in the movies.”

She raised the mask to her forehead and glared. “I can’t believe you’re in my bed and you actually have the balls to talk to me when I was doing such a great job ignoring your presence.”

“Why do you wear it?”

She pulled her bangs out from under the elastic. “Why do you care?”

“Just curious, I guess.”

“I sleep better when I can’t see the clock.”

Her reason was insane. “You can if you lift the mask.”

“But I don’t.”

“Then why not just stop looking at the clock?”

“Why not just stop bothering me?” Gina crossed her arms, giving him a great cleavage shot.

Ben did his best to keep his eyes on hers. “Because I’m on Mountain Time and it’s not even 10:00 there.”

“And this is my problem because?”

“It’s your problem because, like it or not, you’re sleeping with me.”

“Hold on.” Gina held up her hands as if to stop him. “This is my bed so you’re sleeping with me. And believe me, I don’t like it. I don’t like anything about this. How could your grandfather turn around and pull a stunt like forcing me to go on a honeymoon and get away with it?”

“Gina, not to point out the obvious, but money talks and he has about seven billion ways to make people listen. Every one of them works.”

“You know,” her hands flew, punctuating every point, “I told you this whole marriage thing was a mistake.”

Ben put his arm around her and then regretted the action. Damn, she was so tiny, his arm could wrap all the way around her. She leaned into him and tucked her head beneath his chin. Her breasts were pillowed against his side and his dick jumped. Shit.

“It’s a shame.”

Ben found his voice. “What is—the marriage?”

“No, the fact that you’re gay. If you weren’t, at least I’d have something to do to keep myself from thinking about the possibility of getting on a plane in the morning.”

“Go to sleep, Gina.” He hoped his voice didn’t sound as strained to her as it did to him.

She curled up next to him, pulled down her mask, and was asleep in less time than it took him to stop tenting the sheet. It didn’t help that the soap she used was a jasmine scented musk that made him want to just inhale her.

The king-sized bed seemed to shrink with Gina in it. Who knew such a little thing could take up so much room? She was a complete bed hog. No matter how far Ben slid over, she followed like a cat follows the sun. All night he did his darnedest to stay away from her but he’d awaken with her curled up against him.

“Get off of me!”

Ben opened one eye and found himself practically on top of his wife. Thank God only the upper half of his body was touching her. She’d have a hell of a shock if the lower half were.

“Sorry.”

Gina slid away from him. “You’re sorry?”

Ben pulled the sheet up to cover any evidence of his incapacitation and ran his hand through his hair. “Don’t you dare blame this on me. Look at where you are. I’m practically falling off the damn bed. Can I help it if you’re on my side?”

Gina moved like she had a fire under her and ran to the bathroom. Ben willed the vision of her bouncing around the room out of his mind. He needed to get up and get his pants on before she returned. He quickly did, brushed his teeth, and went down to the kitchen. When he trudged in, he was greeted by his grandfather sitting at the table with a copy of the
Post
spread out and a cup of coffee. Great, the other person he didn’t want to see first thing in the morning.

“Sleep well?”

Ben rubbed his stubbled chin. “Not especially. You?” He stared at the old guy through bleary eyes as he searched the cabinets for a mug. He found it on the third try, poured coffee, and drank it down in one gulp. He couldn’t stand small mugs.

“I slept like a baby. How long do you think it’ll take for Gina to get packed?”

Ben shrugged. “I have no idea. She’s not happy about you forcing her to fly. She wants to go by bus.”

Gramps shook his head. “You’ve got to get a tight rein on that little filly of yours now, or you’ll regret it, believe you me.”

Ben looked up from his coffee and caught his grandfather’s eye. “You better not let Gina hear you talking about her like that. That filly has one heck of a kick.”

Ben should know. When she hadn’t been snuggling up to him, she’d been kicking him. Her pretty red toenails might look sexy as hell, but they were lethal.

“Shit, she’s just a cute little pixie.”

“Yeah, a pixie with a machete.”

The kitchen door swished closed and Ben winced.

“Do you two always talk about women behind their backs?”

Shit. He turned around and found Gina standing in her normal pose, her hand on her cocked hip, her black and white silk skull and crossbones robe hanging open, showing off the breast he’d had pillowed against his chest and side all night in the tight pink tank dress that she’d worn to bed. “Only you, sweetheart.” He reached up, pulled another mug from the cupboard, and filled it with coffee. He didn’t know how she took it. He handed the steaming cup to her and let out a sigh of relief when she drank it black. That’s probably the only simple thing the woman did.

“Morning, Joe.”

Gramps took a good long gander at Gina and Ben had the urge to cover her. No wonder he’d never wanted to get married.

“Well now, aren’t you a sight for sore old eyes?” Gramps winked at Ben. “There are worse things to wake up to, huh Ben?”

He decided to take the fifth.

Gina released the death-hold she had on her coffee cup, set it on the counter, wrapped the short robe around her, and tied the sash. Not that it helped, it only made Ben want to unwrap her. He tried to think of something else. It didn’t work.

***

After watching Gina pack almost every piece of clothing she owned, Ben got her into the limo and poured her shots of vodka the entire way to the airport. It wasn’t a long enough drive.

“There’s not enough vodka in the world to induce me to step foot on that plane.” She motioned outside the limo to the sixteen-passenger Gulfstream G550.

Ben pushed another shot toward her. Thank God Gramps’ car came with a full bar.

“Bottoms up.” Ben needed to get her mind off the plane and onto something else. She already had half a bag on, along with a very short jean skirt, a tight turquoise T-shirt which read, “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy” under a short brown suede jacket replete with turquoise and silver beaded fringe and matching turquoise high-heeled cowboy boots with what looked like fake spurs that spun with every step. He hadn’t said anything before because she was a tad overwrought, but now he saw it as his last defense.

“What the heck are you wearing, by the way?”

“What is this? An episode of
Queer Eye for the Straight Girl
? I’m wearing my cowboy garb, why?”

Ben laughed. “Sweetheart, you have a lot to learn about cowboys, though I can’t say I know any who would object to the way you look.”

After getting her to down a couple more shots, he wondered if he should have forced her to eat something before they left. He pulled a pack of crackers out of the built-in cabinet. He wasn’t sure what they’d stocked in the Gulfstream. If he knew his grandfather, he probably made sure there was a big prime rib dinner with all the fixins. With any luck, Gina would sleep through it.

“Here, eat a few of these. You don’t get motion sickness, do you?”

“How do I know?” Her speech was beginning to slur, a good or a bad sign depending upon how he looked at it. “There’s not much time on a cross-town bus to figure that out. I’m good on subways, even standing backward.”

“How do you stand backward?”

“You know, with my back facing the direction the train is going. Backwards.”

Ben just nodded and wondered how much she usually drank. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you strapped in.”

Gina tilted her head, smiled, and blinked her glassy eyes at him. “Can’t we just hijack the limo? It’d be a fun ride and maybe you could show me the sights, like that mountain with all the presidents’ faces carved in it. That would be cool, huh?”

Ben opened the door and pulled her out along with him. “Not this time, Gina. Maybe next time.”

“You’re no fun. I was thinking we could get a big picture of President Obama, like a huge one,” she threw her arms out wide to demonstrate and almost hit him in the face, “and hang it up next to what’s his name… the last guy.”

“Lincoln or Washington?”

“Of course you would know the presidents on the end. You’re a living, breathing Wikipedia. I bet you even know the ones in the middle.”

She leaned more on him than on her own two feet. He wasn’t sure if it was due to the vodka or those ridiculous boots. He picked her up. “Thomas Jefferson and Teddy Roosevelt.”

“Was he the one in the wheelchair?”

“No, that was Franklin Roosevelt.”

“Why are you carrying me?”

“Because you’ll never manage the bus steps in those boots.”

“You forgot my purse.”

Ben had his hands full of a very wiggly woman who seemed intent on rubbing her hip against his crotch. It was a good thing she was too drunk to realize the effect she was having on him. He looked inside the limo and sure enough, there was a purse the size of his suitcase. He leaned her in far enough to allow her to grab it, adjusted his stance to accommodate the added weight, and hightailed it up the steps of the jet.

Ducking his head, he stepped aboard and carried her through the ebony galley sideways.

“Would you look at this place? You should have told me it was ebony and turquoise. I would have worn my black leather instead of my suede. I could have matched.”

Sure enough, the countertops were made from a marble-like turquoise material. Leave it to Gina to notice.

“This is a really, really nice bus.”

“Yeah, that’s right, Gina. It’s a luxury liner bus.” He sat her down and buckled her in tight before he shut the window shade.

Ben spotted his grandfather who’d had a few things in town to take care of before meeting them on the plane. “Gramps, it might be a good time to tell the driver to get this bus moving.” He took the seat next to Gina just as her head dropped against his shoulder.

The jet engines whined to life and Gina’s head came up. “It’s an awful weird sounding bus.”

The jet taxied to the runway. “Just close your eyes and go to sleep.” Ben prayed silently that she’d doze off before they received clearance for takeoff.

“Gramps, did you tell the bus driver to keep the chatter to a minimum?”

BOOK: Yours for the Taking
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