Julie Leto - Double The Pleasure: Twins (Harlequin Blaze)

G REY M ASTERSON SHOOK HIS HEAD , wondering what the hell had possessed him to call his brother. He flipped over the metro section of todays paper and checked the moons current phase. Not full. Well, so much for that explanation. Perhaps he had simply lost his mind.

A beautiful woman is stalking you, his brother paraphrased, his voice exactly like Greys, except for a practiced inflection that said Im bored; amuse me. And youre complaining? Did I miss something?

His twins reaction to the story Grey had just told him made it clear he thought Grey, the editor in chief of New Orleanss second largest newspaper, must have left out something crucial. Hed presented the facts as simply as possible, starting with the publication of a tell-all book by his former girlfriend, B-actress Lane Morrow. Of course, Zane already knew about the book. Everyone in New Orleans knew about the damned book. Everyone in the damned English-speaking world knew about the book.

After four weeks on the bestseller lists, Lanes recount of their once-secret love affair had turned him into a celebrity. Except for the journalists whose paychecks he signed, every reporter with a press card had either called requesting an interview or had staked out his condo, his officehell, even his regular parking space at the dry cleaner. Hed considered filing a lawsuit against her for revealing the details of their sexual exploitsobviously a blatant attempt for attentionbut the thought lasted only ten seconds. Shed written about their hot and heavy encounters precisely to up her celebrity status. Shed revealed his ravenous sexual hungers, then claimed that her leaving him had destroyed his appetites. As if. But the public had bought her portrayal of herself as the master seductress and him, the wild man broken by her betrayal.

At first, hed been too damned mad to contradict herhoping the hype would die down so he wouldnt add to it by refuting her claims. Her asking price in Hollywood had already soared through the roof. So hed decided to lay low, stay quiet and find peace in his stressful but ordered world.

Then hed picked up a stalker, a beautiful one, admittedly, but the last thing he needed was another woman who was obviously seeking him out to sate her craving for attention. Adding that to a rash of problems with production at the newspaper, and Grey had had enough.

Hed called his twin, hoping his neer-do-well brother might have some insight into how to rid himself of his stalker. Instead, Zane couldnt even see the problem.

You dont understand. Greys intrinsic commanding tone rang through louder than hed intended, but sometimes his twin needed to remember just who had been born first, even if their parents had mixed them up as babies so that their names were in reversed order. Grey had been the one to accept the legacy of the family business. Grey had been the one to devote his life to ensuring the wealth and prosperity of anyone bearing the Mastersons name.

Zane didnt understand duty and responsibility. He didnt understand stress or pressure or breaking points. He didnt now and never had. How could he? Hed been too busy proving girls werent the only ones who just wanted to have fun.

What dont I understand? Zane asked.

In addition to being stalked by some lunatic

Shes crazy?

Well, not certifiable, not according to my investigator

Youve had her investigated?

Grey smirked. Well, of course, he had. Grey didnt consider himself a perfect man, but he did learn from his mistakes. This phone call, for instance, rated on Greys error scale at number nine, just below his affair with Lane, which unfortunately, garnered a perfect ten. I wanted to know if shed escaped from some mental institution before I decided what to do with her.

He should have had Lane investigated before he started dating her. Her permanent record from her school days probably included a long history of being a tattletale.

Why do you have to do anything? Zane asked, his tone incredulous.

Grey pictured Zane lounging on his leather couch, kicking his bare feet onto a coffee table that probably cost more than the new computer system hed had installed at the paper.

Because shes stalking me, dammit, Grey answered.

What does she want?

I dont know

Why dont you ask her?

and I dont care. Grey marched beyond Zanes interruption. God, he really didnt want to deal with this. Any of it. Lanes betrayal. Her tell-all book and the intrusive backlash. The trouble at the paper. His fathers impending disapproval, his mothers disappointed stare. The stalker was almost inconsequential in comparison to the greater questions nagging him. Like what did he really want from life? And why had he waited until he was thirty-two to ask himself that question? I have other things to worry about than women and their impossible desires.

Not according to Lanes book.

Grey swallowed a growl. Im surprised you actually read a book, brother. And, of all things, that damned piece of

Did you really make love in the back of her limousine while your reporters waited to interview her?

Yes. And while it had been damned exciting at the time, he now realized the adrenaline rush wasnt worth the price. Thats private.

No, its public now, bro. Very, very public. Even I havent done it in the bathroom stall at Commanders Palace. All these years youve pretended to be so restrained, then I read in this book about

Zane. Grey utilized his harshest tone again, the one hed been using with more and more frequency lately. He didnt like being a hard-ass. He didnt enjoy inspiring expressions of terror from his employees. Not really. He simply wanted to run the paper with precise efficiency and turn a lofty profit. He wanted his personal life to be private and his lovers to be adventurous but discreet.

For a man with a reputation as one of New Orleanss top power brokers, he didnt get much of what he wanted, did he?

If youre done having fun at my expense, I could use some of your expertise.

I have expertise? Zane asked, his surprise clear even over the phone line. Cant wait to hear in what.

Grey was almost afraid to ask. Dont you have a private investigators license?

The instructor was a knockout. The only way I could get close to her was to take her course.

That did it. The reality of Zanes lackadaisical reason for pursuing a license as a P.I. stabbed into Greys brain like an ice pick. He reached across his desk and retrieved the nearly empty bottle of aspirin.

Do you remember anything from the class?

She had the greatest set of

Anything about the course material? Grey rubbed his temple at the precise spot where the phantom puncture wound throbbed with very real, very sharp pain.

I passed the final, didnt I?

Of course he did. His twin brother relished in the life of the clichjack-of-all-trades yet master of none. Well, dammit, this time, he needed Zane to share some of the heat. His twin had enjoyed the fruits of his Masterson trust fund and stock in the privately held newspaper long enough without having to put in even a little work. I suppose I can count on you, then.

As good as counting on yourself. We do have the same IQ.

Yeah, but I actually use mine.

You called me for help, remember?

Grey took a deep breath. All his life, hed handled his problemsand everyone elses in the familyby himself. Their mother had looked to Grey to supervise Zane when she and their father had gone off on some Western excursion. Dude ranches. Cattle drives. Exploring ancient Navajo artifacts in the Canyon de Chelly. Though both had been born in Louisiana, Greys parents loved the Old West and were having a grand time retracing the steps of the pioneers. Their father had retired early and handed the reins of the family business over to him, barely out of graduate school. But now some unknown force was threatening the newspaper, the flagship business in a growing media conglomerate that had made the Mastersons one of the wealthiest families in New Orleans.