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.”