Chapter 1
The Present – Genevieve “Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” Genevieve’s emerald green eyes flashed with anger before narrowing as she watched the sexy as sin NYPD officer Dane Porter stroll into her boutique. “What are you doing here?”
A smirk spread across Dane’s lips at her question. “You called to report a break-in. I was the lucky one to be assigned to answer the call and take your information.”
Genevieve didn’t return his smile.
“Maybe I changed my mind.” Flashes of her brief tryst with Dane in Las Vegas a couple of weeks prior sprang into her mind. He was a gorgeous man, she’d give him that, with blonde hair that was just a smidge too long to be considered short and rich blue eyes. It upset her that just seeing him standing before her, dressed in his officer’s uniform made her remember – and long for – his touch.
Crossing his arms over his thick, muscular chest, he cocked a brow up at her, still amused.
“You changed your mind? So, there wasn’t a break-in and you’re wasting taxpayers’ money by making false calls to 911? That’s an offense, you realize; I could cuff you and take you in right now.”
“Oh, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
I hate that you’ve seen me naked! And that I wanted you touching me then… Touching me now… She growled at herself and once again attempted to free herself of her unwelcomed thoughts.
Ignoring her, he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, produced a pen and pad of paper, then stepped further into the boutique until he was standing before her and began looking around.
“What did they take?”
“Fine!” She gave him a little shove as she rushed past him and motioned for him to follow her to the broken glass cases which, up until that morning, held dozens of pre-loved authentic designer handbags. “This way.”
She knew she shouldn’t act like such a child with him. She was a twenty-five-year-old business owner. She should be acting mature, not behaving like a teenager with a broken heart.
But, dammit, she was upset with him and even more upset with herself. She wanted to just forget.
Oh please, he didn’t force you into anything. You enjoyed every second of it, a voice at the back of her mind chimed in. Instead of making her see reason, the voice only infuriated her further – because it was right.
“Striking an officer in addition to false 911 calls. You could be in big trouble, Ginny.”
“My name’s Genevieve.”
“You didn’t mind me calling you Ginny in Vegas.”
She spun around and shot another glare at him. “Very funny. There was a break-in.” She motioned to the shattered glass of the empty cases. “They took all the handbags. The Birkins, Gucci, Louis Vuitton… They took it all. And they broke the glass of the counter and took all the jewelry and small leather goods. I bet they took well over two hundred thousand in goods.”
She felt hot tears threatening to emerge and forced them back. She started with nothing and now much of her most expensive merchandise – three years of gathering and dealing – gone.
Sure she was insured, she could rebuild, even if all of her bestselling merchandise was gone, but it would take time. People looking to sell Birkin bags for below their value for resale didn’t come along every day, even in New York.
The amusement faded from his expression as he began to write. “Do you have a list of what was stolen?”
“Yeah, let me check the computer.” She made her way into the back office, assuming he’d follow her and not wanting to look him in the eye. If she looked him in the eye she might break down and then look to him for support. She might fall into his arms and the anger she was feeling would dissolve. If the anger was gone then she’d have to admit what they did was what she wanted, regardless of whether she’d admit it to herself or not.
As she sat down at her desk she booted up the computer. She heard his footsteps entering the small office, but didn’t bother to look up.
“So they took stuff in the store, but not the computer?”
“My office was locked. They probably had enough without bothering to break down the office door.”
“I see. That’s possible. You don’t have an alarm?”
“Of course I do.” Her tone was sharper than intended, but she didn’t care. Shrugging, she refused to look up at him. “Guess it didn’t work.”
“Uh-huh.”
She lifted her gaze to lock with his, angered at his dismissive tone. “What? You think I’d just fake a break-in?”
Dane’s jaw clenched as he thrust a hand through his hair, all humour lost from his eyes.
“Look Ginn- Genevieve, I understand we left things on a very bad note in Vegas, but I’m a cop and I have a job to do. I’m sorry if you were upset with what happened, but I’m trying to be friendly and help you here. Can you please work with me on this?”
Closing her eyes, Genevieve took a moment to steady her nerves, feeling slightly guilty at her reaction upon seeing him again. “I’m sorry. I’m frazzled and seeing you right now, just…”
The tension drained from him. “It’s fine. I’ll go check out the security system and see if I can figure out why the break-in didn’t set it off, while you make me a list of stolen items.”
She couldn’t help but admire his broad shoulders and back as he turned and exited her office.
A mix of emotions raced through her seeing him again. Of the millions of people living in New York and the hundreds of cops what were the chances of her ever seeing Dane Porter again?
The remainder of the afternoon went by quickly. After Dane left she spent the afternoon and into the early evening cleaning up, dealing with the insurance company and calling all of her clients, hoping that they would have items they were willing to sell. She still had a store full of gowns and clothing from all the top designers, but the bestselling items were handbags, wallets and smaller items; the items that were stolen. Apparently, the thieves knew what was easiest to peddle as well. It sickened her that her precious Birkin bags might be sold on a street corner alongside dozens of cheap knockoffs.
Exhausted physically, mentally and emotionally she closed and locked her office door and made her way toward the front of the store. Halfway to the store entrance she heard the bell ring, signalling a customer. Apparently they hadn’t seen the closed sign and she’d forgotten to lock the door.