Page 7 of Craig

“Ms. Graham,” the man simply gushed. “Are you having the usual?”

“Darling, you know me so well. Add a little more rum to it, will you? I’m in a foul mood.”

The man practically bowed, his face flushed as she flashed him a smile. “And a basket of your favorite breadsticks.”

“Darling, you’re too good to me.”

“You deserve it.” Hardly sparing Dylan a glance, he rushed off to do her bidding.

“I’m surprised he did not melt into a puddle at your feet. Why the hell do you do that crap?”

“What crap?” Stealing his drink, she took a sip and grimaced.

“The flirting.”

“It comes naturally,” she told him with a smile.

Shaking his head, Dylan studied her outrageously beautiful face. She wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup.

He knew she had come straight from a photoshoot and had taken the time to cream off her skin. Her cocoa brown complexion was smooth and flawless.

Her face was narrow, the chin stubborn, the mahogany eyes large and heavily lashed. Her locks were neat and loose around her shoulders, almost reaching her waist, the ends dipped in gold.

They were siblings who shared the same father and different mothers. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, they were very close and had both inherited their father’s stunning good looks.

He was thirty-five and she was twenty-eight. The resentment at having a stepmother thrust on him when he was just a child had disappeared when he became a big brother.

He was protective of her and that never changed over the years. He was always looking out for her.

“You look tired.”

She cast him a glance and waited until the waiter had placed her order in front of her.

“The linguine is delicious,” the man told her, hovering at the table, his dark eyes worshipful.

“Then that’s what we’re having.”

“The shrimp for me,” Dylan said curtly, dismissing the man with a wave of his hand.

“That was very rude.”

“He was being a nuisance.”

“You’re just jealous because I was getting all the attention.”

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“That’s what it was.”

“I quit modeling.”

He moved his shoulders in a shrug. “I’ve heard that before.”

“This time I mean it.” She sipped her piña colada and appreciated how Andre had seen to it about the extra rum.

“I feel as if I’m dying.”

His concern came immediately. Reaching for her hand, he linked their fingers.