Leverage: Pt 1 (6 page)

Julianna would rather chew nails than allow him into her body again
tonight
. Tomorrow, admittedly, might be a different story. She rather liked those toe-curling orgasms. She grabbed her bathrobe and pulled it on, saying, “I’d rather not. I’m going to shower. Feel free to be gone by the time I’m finished.”

He chuckled and popped to his feet, catching her just as she reached the bathroom door. Boston’s strong grip enclosed her waist and he buried his nose against the tender skin of her neck to whisper, “You’re so cute when you’re pissed off.”
Oh, is that right?
Well, let’s see how cute this is.
She buried an elbow into his chiseled midsection and he grunted as he let go.

Julianna lifted her chin and hit him with a hard glare. “I know self-defense and I’m not afraid to use it. Try that again and I’ll
send your spleen into your lower intestines.”

She expected anger, even rage but he simply waved her off and sank back into the chair with a subtle quirk of his lips that suggested a wry smile. “Enjoy your shower, Madame,” he said and she spun on her heel, slamming the door behind her.
And once the door was safely locked, she yelled out, “And this is the ugliest bathroom I’ve ever seen! Gold? Ugh. Apparently, you and Liberace share the same interior designer. Tacky!”

“This coming from the woman who was using coffee filters for toilet paper?” he answered from the other room and she gasped. How’d he know that? In spite of everything, a tiny giggle escaped and she turned the water on full blast. Well, at least the water pressure was decent.

She supposed there was a silver lining to every bad situation.

Boston listened to the shower running and considered joining Julianna but his aching mid-section cautioned him to cool his jets or else he might lose something precious. She seemed very upset that he’d been so flippant about her sharing of something private.

The truth was her answer had struck an unwelcome chord and his first line of defense was to always shut down anything or anyone who came to
o close for comfort.

But he didn’t want to push away Julianna. He enjoyed her spark, her feisty temper, even her scathing treatment. It was
refreshing. And more than that — he craved spending time with Julianna.

It wasn’t that she was beautiful, even though she
was, his fascination went further than something surface-deep. He may have made light of her sacrifice to her brother, but he was charmed by the fact that she was, indeed, so loving at her core. She was the kind of person who would gladly sacrifice for her loved ones and yet, she was no pushover. What an enigma.

She was nothing
like Gigi.

Gigi had been coldly
gorgeous, a glittering frost princess who’d reached into his heart and ripped it out when he least expected it.

He still remembered the
killing blow — what a sap he was at the time.

“I can’t wait to be your wife,” Gigi had said, smiling as she admired the newest piece of jewelry he’d picked up for her. Gigi loved sparkling things and Boston loved Gigi, hence the truckload of pricey trinkets she already had. Gigi gave Boston her cheek and giggled when he frowned. “Oh fine,” she relented and sank into his arms. “I suppose for a five carat pretty, you can do whatever you like with me.”

Boston settled her into his lap and wondered if there was a happier man on earth than him. There was only one small thing he had to talk to Gigi about and he figured he might as well get it over with.

“Babe, I have something to tell you and I hope you’re okay with it.”

Gigi turned mock serious and said, “If you’re about to ask me if you can bring another woman into our bed, I’ll tell you…only if I get to choose.” She giggled at his shocked expression and nibbled on his earlobe. “You’re such a sweet boy. I don’t mind a threesome now and then.”

Just the mention of such a dirty adventure caused his cock to harden instantly and Gigi knew it. She wiggled her sweet ass against the hard ridge of his cock and laughed. “Looks like someone likes that idea.”

He chuckled and was tempted to follow up on that offer but he knew he had to get this out of the way before they started anything remotely fun. “I wish that were the reason I needed to talk. Honestly, I wouldn’t even be bringing this up but my dad thinks I should let you know.”

At the mention of the older Kincaid
, Gigi lost her smile. His old man didn’t particularly like Gigi and hadn’t been all that quiet about it. “Great, what’s Papa Bear going on about now? I swear that man has it out for me. Why can’t he just accept that we’re in love?”

“Exactly! That’s what I said. And then he said that what I have to tell you might change that.”

“Oh please. Nothing is going to change the fact that you’re my sweetheart. I promise,” she assured him but he would’ve felt more secure if she’d made her declaration while looking him in the eye instead of staring at her newest bauble. “So what’d the old blowhard say?”

Boston let the casual insult to his father
slide, knowing now was not the time to chastise her. He drew a breath and just put it out there to get it over with. “Okay, here’s the thing…I can’t have kids. In this day and age, it doesn’t seem like a big deal when there are so many other options out there for adoption but for me, unfortunately, I can’t father children.”

She stilled and he didn’t begrudge her reaction because frankly, it was a bit of a bomb to drop on someone you planned to marry
but the longer the silence stretched on, the more nervous he became. “You never mentioned this before,” she said.

“It’s not something you whip out when you’re casually dating and you have to admit that things have moved pretty fast for us. I was too busy falling in love with you, I guess.” Her faint smile didn’t reach her eyes and he began to sweat that he was going to lose her over something that was out of his control. He kept talking in the hopes of smoothing the sudden, tiny wrinkles appearing in her forehead. “It was an accident when I was a kid. Doc says I killed my baby-makers,” he said, trying to joke but she wasn’t laughing and he knew he had to do some damage control. “We can adopt if you are set on being a mom. There are plenty of kids—“

“Boston, why would I want to adopt? I thought my children would have
your
DNA, not a stranger’s.”

“Does it matter all that much?”

She slid from his lap and immediately put distance between them. Her voice was cold as she snapped, “Of course it matters.”

Baffled and hurt, he asked, “Why?” and climbed from the chair. “Jesus, Gigi, what difference does it make if you love me?”

She glared, her eyes suddenly glittering. “Because it means I’ve been wasting my Goddamn time watching my ovulation and tracking my damn period when all this time you’ve been shooting blanks!”

Stunned, all he could do was stare. “What the hell are you talking about? You were
trying
to get pregnant?”

“Yes, I was trying to get pregnant, you idiot.”

“Why?”

“Because a kid would’ve gotten me more money.”

Ah fuck
. His world began to shatter as she grabbed her purse and keys. Gone was the sweet, playful woman he’d fallen head over heels in love with in a very short time frame, replaced by a cold, angry, and cruel bitch. “Here’s the thing…your daddy would’ve insisted on the prenup, which means I would get nothing when I dumped your ass. But if I had your kid, that’s an insurance policy for eighteen years. Now, you tell me that I’ve been wasting my time, laughing at your stupid jokes and suffering your touch, for nothing? And to think…if I hadn’t been wasting my time with your sorry ass, I could’ve gotten my hands on one of those Buchanan boys. Now those are real men.”

Suffering his touch? Rage began to percolate and boil.
Suffering
? In a move that shocked her, Boston shoved her up against the wall and pushed hard into her face, coming so close his breath lifted the tendrils of hair framing her jaw. “Suffering my touch? Is that so? I don’t recall you complaining when I was fucking you. But then maybe it was hard to tell from all the moaning you were doing.”

“What can I say? I’m a great actress,” she hissed and Boston’s hand flew up but he pulled back seconds before connecting with her lying face. He pushed away from her, disgusted and heart-broken. “Get the fuck out of here before I do something I regret.”

“I dare you to hit me. I’ll own you.”

“Get out.”
She was just to the door when he turned and added with a sneer, “And honey, you overestimate your appeal. The Buchanans would’ve fucked you raw and then sent you on your way without even remembering your name. I’ve seen it happen a million times. It was my bad luck that you landed in my world instead.”

“That makes two of us,” she countered with an angry glitter. “Thanks for nothing, asshole.”

And when Gigi left — which later he learned wasn’t even her real name — she drop kicked his heart through the open door.

Painful as it’d been
, he learned a powerful lesson — women couldn’t be trusted.

And always do a background check.

#

Julianna exited the bathroom and found the room empty. A small frown followed as she realized she’d expected Boston to be
there waiting for her. Good, she told herself. She needed some alone time. She quickly dressed and decided to take a stroll around this monstronsity of a house. It was like living in an European castle, or at the very least a hotel. All of this for one man? Seemed excessive. Why did wealthy people have to live in such big houses? A modest three-bedroom wasn’t enough? She descended the marble staircase to the first level and her steps echoed off the gleaming floors. She shivered and realized maybe she ought to have grabbed a blanket to tuck around herself because this place was cold.
Pretty flowers
, she noted as she passed a huge fresh spray of mind-bogglingly beautiful flowers. Probably had them delivered every day and never even noticed them. She actually preferred plants to flowers because plants didn’t die within three days. Well, most plants. She had a bit of a black thumb but not from lack of trying. Finally, her brother Tom made her promise to do the plants a favor and stop buying them because the minute she placed them in her cart, she was dooming them to certain death.

She heard a subtle, muffled noise and she followed it to another cavernous hall that branched into another room.
A very manly room. Stag heads and other dead animal heads hung from the wall and she grimaced at the macabre custom.

“Are you lost?” Boston’s voice asked from behind a huge
chair. He swiveled around and his mouth turned up in a cool smile at her entrance. “What are you doing wandering about? Haven’t you been warned that you could get lost in this big house?”

“I was bored. You can’t keep me caged in a room. That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Wasn’t it?”

She glared. “No.”

Boston shrugged. “Damn, I should’ve been more specific in the agreement you signed.”

She ignored his odd mood and wandered the room, taking in the dark paneling and the thick bearskin rug sprawled out in front of the massive fireplace. “This place is unreal.
Very old world. Was your dad a medieval lord?” At that he laughed and poured himself a drink, which by the looks of it, wasn’t his first. She gestured to the alcohol. “What’s wrong with you? I took a shower and came out and you were gone and now I find your drowning your sorrows in booze. What’d I miss?”

He waved away her question and pointed at the elk staring with glass eyes straight at her. “You see that? My dad shot it with one shot. He was quite the marksman. He never took shortcuts and he always got what he was after.
Gotta admire a man like that.”

“I have different views of killing defenseless animals.”

“Of course you do,” he said with a sigh as if weary of her constant chattering about her ideals and morals. “Well, if it assuages your conscience, we always ate what he killed. Elk steaks are quite delicious.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” She walked to the fine,
mahogany desk and ran her fingers along the shiny grain. “Your dad liked to spend a lot of time in here?”

“When he could. It was his haven. I spent many happy moments in here in my childhood.”

“So if this place is filled with happy memories, why the sour face?” Did she want to know? Maybe it wasn’t wise to poke at his personal problems but yeah, she did want to know. There was a sadness to him that tugged at her in a way that defied explanation. Hell, maybe she was just bored and needed something to distract her. Yeah, that was it. “I mean, what could possibly be going so wrong in your life? You have everything you ever could want.”

“So it would seem.”

“Oh c’mon…don’t pull the poor little rich boy routine because I’m not buying it.”

“Fine.” He swallowed the last of his drink and motioned for her to come to him. A slow sensual smile fitted to his lips and for a moment she felt as if she were the one tipping back the booze. “Come here and take my mind off my troubles.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” she asked, sliding her tongue along the seam of her lips. He unzipped his pants and let them fall open. The tip of his cock peeped up and she gasped involuntarily as hunger ripped through her.
Goddamn! Why did he have this kind of hold on her?
She envisioned herself turning on her heel and leaving him alone but her feet had other plans. He was the devil; lounging with such lazy grace that he epitomized rich, sexy and smug with the knowledge that he was hung like a beast.

He watched her approach, something glinting in his eyes that called to her like a siren drawing her to her doom. “Is that all that will ever be between us?” she asked in a husky whisper as she
knelt before him, questioning him even as she tenderly grasped that hard, straining length. Who was she kidding? She wanted to feel him as desperately as ten-dollar hooker needing to fund her next fix. It was pathetic and primal at the same time. He scooted further down in the chair and there was something grim in his stare as he answered with a dim sadness.

“It’s not in me to offer more.”

She closed her eyes and slipped the soft spongy head into her mouth, hating that soul-deep need for something more than the physical.

What a fucked up situation.