Assumed Master (14 page)

"Where is Gavril anyway?" she asked,
looking around, ignoring the fact Blake and Shelby were rooted to the spot
staring at her. "I would hate to disappoint
Master
any further today by losing his heir."

Her eyebrows shot up and she slapped a hand
over her mouth realizing she’d let lose a tongue that could cut like a razor if
she allowed it.

"Gavril wandered over to Tiffany’s to
look at gemstone jewelry. He’s supposed to meet a friend for lunch later, which
I told him was a great idea. I think we need to talk over a big plate of nachos
and a ‘rita, one of those in a bowl, extra Don Julio. Pumpkin, what's wrong?"
Blake took her by the arm and forced her to look at him. "What did he say
to you this morning?"

"Nothing that should have surprised me,"
Julie told him. "I’m an inheritance, not a person. Did you forget that?
I’m done shopping here. Can we go somewhere else now?"

Julie abandoned the entire cart which didn’t
have much in it anyway and started a quick march toward the front of Neiman
Marcus.

"Julie, stop," Blake called after
her. When he caught up with her but she kept walking
,
 
she
heard a voice she’d never heard him
use until now. "I said stop."

That mechanism inside her that caused her to
take pause at any authoritative stance whatsoever kicked in and she stopped
dead in her tracks. Blake took her by the hand and started a more respectable
pace from the store, Shelby trotting along behind them not uttering a peep.

"Screw nachos and ‘ritas. I think we need
to find pancakes and lattes. Now," Blake said, working his way through the
crowds down the middle of the shopping center. He flipped out his phone and hit
two on the speed dial. "Gavril, we’re taking Auntie Jules to breakfast.
She’s a bit out of sorts. I think her sugar must be low or something. No,
she’ll be fine. We’ll be at The Cannery."

Julie wore a frown the entire time Blake
mostly dragged her to the other end of the mall and through the front door of
the only place in town she knew of where one could be in a food coma in less
than ten minutes. Everything on the menu was carb loaded and fat laden.
Normally this would suit her just fine, but she found herself in such a state a
good binge didn’t even sound appealing right now.

"Can’t we just grab a box of Godiva’s and
call it even?" she asked as Blake led her off behind a rather plump
hostess to the back of the restaurant and into a private corner like he asked
for.

"We’ll have that for dessert," Blake
said, pulling her chair out then helping Shelby with her seat before seating
himself.

And they wondered where the boys got it from.

"This morning’s special is the pumpkin
spice latte with homemade whipped cream. The cream came from our farm. I have
to say this is one of my favs," the waitress said, laying menus in front
of everyone before pulling a pad from her gingham apron.

"Yes, dear, we’ll take three of those,
extra cream all around," Blake said. "And can you bring a basket of biscuits
with lots of that fresh churned butter and a little jar of that delightful
boysenberry jam to get us started? Thank you."

The waitress smiled and disappeared in a
whirl, jotting things on her pad.

"Now, want to get started or wait until
you’re good and snockered on sugar, lard, and butter?" Blake said,
steepling his fingers beneath his chin. "What exactly was that derogatory
thing you referred to yourself as back there? Property, I believe? What the
hell does that mean?"

"Well, I am," Julie argued. "Dante
inherited me. I’m nothing more than a pawn for him to do with as he will. I
have no real place in the scheme of things."

"What are you talking about? You’re part
of our family, Jules. You’re one of us now."

"Yeah, well, I was beginning to think so,
too. Especially after yesterday," Julie admitted, looking around for
anything to focus on aside from the two people drilling her with their eyes. "Then
this morning I was reminded of my place. I won’t make the mistake of stepping
across that line again."

"What line? And what happened yesterday?"
Shelby asked, leaning back so the waitress could set a steaming basket of
biscuits down along with a jar of jam, a crock of butter, and three frothy
lattes.

Julie sat silently eyeing the offerings, her
stomach bottoming out and rolling. Her lips turned down and she crinkled her
nose.

"Spill it, sister sunshine," Blake
said, breaking apart one of the fluffy breads, slathering it with butter until
it dripped off the sides, topping that with a generous dollop of purple
sweetness.

"I fucked your husband," she
blurted, immediately feeling like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders
then feeling worse again as a cold sweat beaded down her back and her stomach
churned again.

"Yes, I know, pumpkin," Blake said
matter-of-factly. "He told me. He was worried about his performance. You
know it’s been years since he's serviced a female. So, how was it?"

"You knew?" Julie accused, spearing
him with her eyes. "I’ve been worried all day you’d be hurt that I did it
without your permission."

"When I agreed to you moving in with us,
that was permission. Do you think me a fool? I know what party of three means."

"Well, was it good?" Shelby piped up
over a big bite of biscuit. "I’ve always wondered how Dante would be. Do
tell, please."

"You’re not jealous?" Julie asked,
ignoring Shelby’s request for details.

"No, of course not."
Blake sounded appalled she would believe
otherwise. "I love you, too, Jules. Just because I don’t want to have sex
with you doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings for you. You belong with us as sure
as the sun will rise tomorrow just like clockwork. I’m glad it finally
happened. And like Shelby asked, was it good? Dante was a bit worried about,
well, being compared…"

"He was fine," Julie snapped. "Until
he made me feel like it was just that, sex and nothing more.
A
slave giving her Master what he’s entitled to.
He made it perfectly
clear that’s where the line is as far as my participation in this…family…if you
will, is concerned." Julie waved her hands about for a moment then settled
her forehead in them thinking she might start crying. "Gav asked me this
morning if he and Luc can call me mom."

"Oh, honey, that’s great," Shelby
said, taking one of her hands and pulling it away from her face. "That’s progress
and means they fully accept you being there. This is a good thing."

"No, it’s not. Dante told me this morning
it’s basically none of my business what goes on with the twins." Julie
decided maybe a bit of latte would be fortifying. Blake might feel the same way
when he heard why. She took as deep a swallow as the singeing heat would allow
then wiped a bit of cream from her upper lip. "Gav is thinking about
having sex with Danielle. He asked me for help with condoms this morning. Dante
overheard and was a bit furious to say the least. He told me it was easy to
give advice when the advised wasn’t my responsibility."

"Oh, dear.
I was afraid of this," Blake said. "I
saw the way that boy was looking at her yesterday. Thank the stars he’s
thinking about protection. So, are we to procure the prophylactics today?
Goody, a pharmacy field trip!"

"You’re not mad that I gave advice out of
turn?" Julie grabbed a biscuit, hunger surfacing again now that she knew
Blake was okay with everything. True enough she was developing some heady
feelings for Dante, but Blake had been her best friend long before Dante came
along. It hurt that Dante was mad at her, but for Blake to despise her for
anything would simply be the end of her.

"Out of turn?"
Blake ran a hand over his forehead. "Honestly,
I’m relieved at not having to give it myself. I’d say Dante’s anger has less to
do with you giving advice and more to do with his lack of foresight on the
matter. He’s a man. You know ego and all that attaboy shit? I might not
understand the attraction to the hoo-hoo, but I get the beating the chest and
congratulating your son bit. What kind of pancakes do you think we should get?
I’m leaning toward the carrot cake."

"I want the apple cinnamon," Shelby
said, doctoring up another biscuit. "And I still want details about this
sex that went on while I had my turkey and dressing yesterday."

That was it? Dante didn’t want to exclude her
as mom to his sons, he simply felt slighted because of some maniacal manly ego
business? Julie’s feelings were still bruised. But Blake was right, this
required food.

"Ricotta and mixed berry," she said.
"With a side of country ham.
I think we need some
gravy with the rest of those biscuits, too. Can we still get Godiva's for
dessert?"

Chapter Thirteen

Dante really didn’t know how he would describe
Julie’s attitude over the course of the past couple of weeks. She ran from
discontent to what he determined was blue to seemingly okay, but not great.
However, no matter what the flavor of the day, he knew damn well what
instigated it. His callous reprimand over a situation he had zero control over
had sent her skittering back inside her shell with only her head poking out as
necessary to ensure he was happy with the basic essentials in life.
Food, clean clothes, clean
sheets, and a neat and tidy
living space. Blake assured him repeatedly they'd talked over what could only
be touted as a carb-fest the day after Thanksgiving and she was aware that it
was a misunderstanding and all would be well. Of course, Dante had made no move
whatsoever to make it up to her as his barbed ego still stung and he just
couldn’t seem to bring himself to admit he was wrong.
Nothing
like compounding one problem with yet another.

As he sat on his stool at the end of the
kitchen island drinking his coffee and reading the paper, he watched her every
few seconds from around the edge of the sports page. She was currently stuffing
lemon slices under the skin of a fat hen. He smiled knowing within a couple of
hours the smell of the luscious creation would permeate the house, making it
nearly impossible for him to keep grading the final exams on his desk that had
to be completed by the end of the week for semester reports.

Although she was smiling and humming while she
worked, it was more than obvious her feelings were still hurt. Probably more
hurt than his ego was beat up. He still couldn’t figure out why the hell his
boys felt they couldn’t come to him with their sex and birth control questions.
Not that it mattered now, Julie had made well and good on her promise to Gavril
and he was now the proud owner of a box of Trojans, apparently the protection
of high school champions. The fact that it was still unopened disturbed him.
Yes, he was guilty of snooping through Gav’s sock drawer and wasn’t sure if
unopened meant he was exercising control or if he had exercised stupidity and proceeded
without one. Julie probably knew.

Damn it!
There it was again.
Dante’s
enormous ego followed closely by the green-eyed beast that was jealousy.
He should be glad the boys welcomed the woman he wanted to stay with them forever
with open arms. Instead, he’d made her feel like shit. Like an outsider and yet
he couldn’t manage to get past his pissy state of mind long enough to fix the
rift that seemed to grow by the day.

Taking a long swallow of the nutty goodness
he’d come to near addiction of since Julie and her coffee maker moved in, he
determined the longer he waited to make things right, the harder it would be.

"Remember when I talked about how long it
had been since any of us had a vacation?" he started, hoping she didn’t
freak out when he revealed his plans.

"Yes, Sir.
I know it’s been a good long while. Maybe you
should take Blake and the boys somewhere for Christmas. I could call Amelia and
have her open the river house for me." Julie never looked up from what she
was doing, the expression on her face that of stone.

"That’s not at all what I had in mind,"
he said, slipping off the stool and moving behind her. When he ran his hands
down her shoulders, the now familiar reaction of his dick hardening overtook
him. That was another thing he hated. No talking equated to no more sex with
Julie.
A condition which sucked.
"The boys want
to go skiing with some friends for a few days next week. I was thinking while
they’re gone, I’d take you and Blake somewhere. We’ll all be back before
Christmas. We can decide where to spend the actual day then. If the river house
is where you’d like to be, we can do that."

"Are you sure I’m capable of making a
reasonable decision about that?" Julie barked back. "Does this fall
under the realm of my responsibility?"

Well shit, she wasn’t going to make this easy.
Of course, Dante knew he deserved it. He hadn’t fully earned her trust to begin
with then he crushed what little of it he’d managed. Trust was a two way
street. He couldn’t expect her to turn over hers if he wasn’t willing to
reciprocate.

"Jules, I’m sorry. I truly am. I know I
hurt you very badly. Please forgive me?"