The Bold and the Dominant

  “No.” He grinned. “I’ve never engaged in that particular kink in my life. But watching you try amused the hell out of me. How does your ass feel, by the way?”

  “This was all a…game to you?” She gaped.

  He just smiled. “You kept calling it one, so…”

  Her face flashed red as she ground her teeth together and screeched. “You bastard! You heartless, cruel—”

  “You’ve yanked my chain all day. Consider this quid pro quo.”

  “I didn’t humiliate you!”

  “Two years ago you did. Today, you’ve disrupted my whole life. I’m on to you.” He leaned over her chair and wrapped his hands around the back, mostly to prevent himself from strangling her, and hovered right above her face. “I don’t think Kyle is my son. I’m not even convinced he’s your son. You don’t care for him properly, and you don’t give a shit about his welfare. The DNA swab in my pocket will prove that by tomorrow.”

  “You took the sample without my permission?” Her face distorted in horror.

  “I had your permission. You also gave me several excuses why I should wait. I simply chose not to.”

  She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw, then seemed to swallow down her anger. “Never mind. Darling, you and I share a more sophisticated love than these foolish games imply. Let’s rekindle it. Carry me to the sofa, and we’ll make love like we used to. I miss—”

  “Shut up and listen.” He gritted his teeth. “We don’t share a ‘sophisticated love.’ We don’t share anything at all. I don’t care what you do, where you go, who you fuck, or how you choose to live. There is no you and I, Gwyneth, and there never will be again.” He tugged on her hair and glared into her face. “And for the record, even if I’d been without sex for a century and you were the last woman on earth, I wouldn’t touch you again. Ever.”

  She paled for a moment before her eyes blazed with indignation and a terrible fury. “How dare you! You can’t treat me like I’m less important than your gutter-fed whore. I am an aristocrat, damn it! Fourteen generations of Sinclairs have reigned with kings and married royalty.”

  “Why did you come, Gwyneth? Why did you go to the trouble of borrowing a baby and flying halfway around the world? Why do you want me back? It must be pretty damn important.”

  Her face closed up. “I’ve told you. You’ve chosen not to believe me.”

  Liam would have liked a real answer to his question, but it wasn’t worth spending more time in her company to find out. “I never will.”

  Then he left, not looking back.

  * * *

  Raine parked in a visitor’s spot in the parking lot at Beck’s condo complex and cut off her little sedan’s engine. She glanced at her phone and grimaced. The line at the post office had been stupidly long and slow. The dry cleaners had taken twenty minutes just finding Liam’s and Hammer’s things. And she’d dithered too long over lingerie for tonight.

  She’d been texting Hammer off and on all afternoon. He’d grumbled that they didn’t have his favorite sandwich fixings for lunch, so she’d also grabbed fresh subs for the men. He and Liam, who had missed breakfast, must both be hungry. She’d have to scratch groceries off her list for today or she’d be late for dinner. Just this last stop and then she’d be with them for a hopefully peaceful evening.

  Raine unbuckled the big fruit bouquet from the front seat, then darted out of the car and around to the other side. As she lifted it from the passenger’s side, she balanced the basket, her phone, and her car keys, then headed into the lobby of Beck’s building. She hoped he enjoyed the goodies, but what else did a sub get another Dom as a thank-you-for-helping-me-with-my-submission gift?

  The doorman greeted her warmly, obviously remembering her from her stay here last week, when she’d been hiding out after running away from Hammer and Liam.

  Shoving the ugly memories aside, she smiled back. “Would it be possible to leave this in Dr. Beckman’s refrigerator?”

  The uniformed man flipped through the papers on his clipboard and nodded. “Sure. He added you to his list so you can come by anytime.”

  “I don’t have a key.”

  “I’ll get you in. Or his current houseguest can help you out, too.”

  Houseguest? Raine shrugged. Maybe he’d had someone visit him unexpectedly or was letting another doctor crash at his place. If that was the case, she’d have to be quiet.

  “Thank you.”

  “This way.” He led her through the secure double doors, across the lobby, to a bank of elevators and pressed the button. “You getting ready for the holidays, Miss?”

  She smiled, optimistic that Christmas would be much better than her disastrous Thanksgiving, which had started with her migraine and ended with Hammer and Liam at one another’s throats. “I’ll be starting my preparations tomorrow.”

  They exchanged small talk until the door to the elevator on her right opened. As she entered and watched the doorman press the button for the penthouse, Raine inspected the fruit bouquet to make certain it was no worse for the wear after the car ride.

  She almost missed the ding of the other elevator and the blur of the familiar man in the gray suit storming by. He shoved out the lobby’s secure double door, and it closed behind him before she realized she’d just seen Liam, looking somewhere between determined and smug. A prickle of alarm skittered down her spine.

  Raine frowned. What the heck was he doing at Beck’s? Why would he visit when the doctor was in the middle of surgery? And had a houseguest?

  The elevator door in front of her began to close. Raine stuck her leg out to stop it.

  Hopping to keep her balance, she thrust the fruit basket in the doorman’s hand. “Can you hold this? That was my boyfriend. Something is clearly wrong. One minute…”

  She didn’t give the doorman an opportunity to object, just darted out of the lift and ran down the hall. “Liam!”

  He didn’t hear her. He’d already pushed his way out the second set of doors into the parking lot and now pressed the phone to his ear. He paused, a deeply satisfied smile adding dimension to his sharp profile. What the hell was going on with him?

  “Miss?”

  Raine turned. The elevator began to beep. The doorman, wearing a slightly impatient glower, held the fruit bouquet.

  When she looked back at the parking lot, Liam sauntered toward his car, still chatting on his cell. She frowned at his retreating back. The elevator’s beep became an insistent buzz. With a little curse, Raine turned away. She’d see Liam in less than an hour. She’d ask him for an explanation then.

  “Sorry.” She turned back to the elevator and took the silent ride up twenty-something floors, ignoring the doorman’s questioning gaze.

  Once the doors parted, she made her way to the corner unit. The guard pulled out a set of keys.

  “Go ahead and knock. If the houseguest doesn’t answer, I’ll let you in.”

  Tapping on Beck’s door and hoping a stranger answered was awkward, but she supposed he couldn’t just barge in on someone staying with the doctor.

  Raine lightly rapped her knuckles on the solid wood and took the fruit basket back in hand. “Thank you.”

  Suddenly, the door flung open. “So you’re back, Liam? What is the—” The blonde standing there fixed her scowl on Raine. “Who are you?”

  Raine couldn’t breathe. Statuesque, sexy, and lean, the British bombshell looked as if she’d stepped off the pages of a lingerie catalog, especially wearing daring red peekaboo lace undergarments. Despite the woman’s mussed hair, crimson lips, and gentle flush, the most terrifying thing of all was her familiarity.

  Weeks ago, she’d Googled Liam’s ex-wife. Now she wished she hadn’t. She looked even more gorgeous in person.

  The woman shifted her attention to the doorman, who gaped beside Raine, and gave him a haughty glare. “You may leave.”

  The doorman blushed profusely, then backed away, disappearing into the elevator.

  “Gwyneth.” The shell-s
hocked whisper fell from Raine’s lips. She almost couldn’t keep the heavy basket from slipping through her numb fingers.

  “Who the devil are you? Oh, you must be the maid. You’re impertinent. Call me Ms. Sinclair. Come back in twenty minutes. I’ll need clean sheets and towels, and you’ll—”

  The sound of a baby wailing from inside the condo stunned Raine. Why would Liam’s ex-wife be in Beck’s condo with a baby?

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” The woman rolled her eyes. “Never mind. Might as well come in now and get started.”

  She flung the door open wide and whirled around toward the bedroom. Her pert backside looked red and freshly branded. The word slut had been imprinted temporarily onto her cheek with some sort of impression paddle.

  As if suddenly self-conscious, Gwyneth grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and began picking up all the implements of BDSM play scattered around the room. A dildo. Restraints with Velcro cuffs.

  Stunned mute, Raine blinked and shuffled in. The sight only grew more disturbing. Clover clamps lay on the coffee table. The slut paddle sat on the nearby sofa. Gwyneth scooped those up, too, as the baby howled in the background.

  Beck was a sadist, and this was his place. Gwyneth was his houseguest…except he was in surgery. The woman looked freshly flushed, and Liam had just exited the building, looking quite satisfied. Beck hadn’t known the woman long enough to have fathered a baby with her. But Liam had.

  Oh, god. She was going to be sick.

  Gwyneth disappeared into the bedroom. Raine barely managed to unload the fruit bouquet on the countertop dividing the living room and kitchen. The other woman had since belted a robe around her scantily clad figure and picked up the baby. Dark curls and dark eyes. Raine could so easily see them as having come from Liam.

  Had he decided to return to his ex-wife, the mother of his child? Had his lovemaking earlier today been a bittersweet good-bye? Did he and Hammer intend to sit her down tonight over dinner and tell her that Liam had a son and intended to take up with this bitch again?

  “Why are you just standing there?” Gwyneth huffed. “You can start in the bedroom.”

  No way could Raine go back there. She desperately wanted to know if she’d find any more evidence of her passion with Liam. On the other hand, hadn’t she gotten enough of an eyeful already? Seeing firsthand that he’d scened with her was bad enough, but to find out he’d taken the woman to bed and thrust inside her—

  Raine swallowed the thought—and the resulting bile—as the day’s events rushed back at her. Liam had been eager to leave the lodge this morning. To rush back to Gwyneth? Well, of course. Why wouldn’t he want a woman who’d given birth to his child and still looked like a supermodel? He’d refused to touch her in the car. Maybe she’d mistaken his anger for indifference. Liam hadn’t explained his mood. Obviously, Hammer had lied that the issue revolved around his business because he’d been temporarily covering for his old friend. Liam had fucked her as a kiss-off, and Hammer had been pissed about that. They’d spoken afterward, once Macen had told her to start the shower. Raine hadn’t heard more than a hum of their conversation, but they’d exchanged fast, furious dialogue. Then Liam had disappeared.

  Apparently to spend some “quality” time with his ex-wife.

  The hurt cleaved Raine’s chest, devastating her. Pain overwhelmed her until she couldn’t breathe. Every second seemed to last a thousand years as she watched Gwyneth pat the baby and stare at her impatiently.

  It wasn’t this woman’s fault that Liam wanted her more. But after Gwyneth had cheated on him, Raine would have thought Liam would steer clear.

  Looking at the stunning vixen, Raine knew why he hadn’t.

  “Get moving,” Gwyneth demanded.

  “I’m not the maid,” she muttered finally.

  “Who the devil are you, then?” Gwyneth cocked her head to the side and sidled closer, seeming to examine her with sharp green eyes. “Raine?”

  She lifted her head and glared back. So Liam had mentioned her. Raine didn’t know if she was happy that she’d been worth his acknowledgment or pissed off that the man she thought she loved had spoken about his last lover to his once-ex-and-again-current squeeze.

  “I don’t have anything to say to you,” Raine breathed.

  “You must. You came to see me.” The woman narrowed her eyes, shooting her another scrutinizing stare. “Did you see Liam as you arrived? What did he tell you about us?”

  Us? Raine’s stomach rolled again.

  “Nothing.” He hadn’t even stopped to look at her. Raine had imagined that he simply hadn’t heard her…but maybe he just hadn’t wanted to bother.

  Finally, a smile curled Gwyneth’s lips. “He must have been in a hurry. He’s so excited to begin our lives together again, this time with his son. This is Kyle.”

  Gwyneth grasped the baby’s wrist and moved it to simulate the baby waving.

  Hearing the woman confirm all her worst fears had Raine backing up a step.

  Pity crossed the other woman’s face. “Really, Raine. What did you think was going to happen? You’re cute, and I’m sure you have a great personality, but Liam needs more than you can give him. Did you imagine that he preferred you over me, especially when that meant taking Hammer’s sloppy seconds?”

  “He loves me.” She tried to convince herself as much as Gwyneth.

  The pity deepened. “Did he tell you that? Oh, poor girl. He is a silver-tongued devil. Of course he’d tell you what you want to hear so he could get you into bed, but now he and I are quite reconciled and—”

  “You cheated on him.” Raine frowned. The kind but firm man who’d told her about the painful dissolution of his marriage couldn’t be this heartbreaking barracuda Gwyneth described.

  “To get his attention.” She waved Raine’s concern away. “I thought he had a plaything on the side and… Well, the misunderstanding is all quite resolved now. And so happily.”

  Acute pain slashed through Raine. She staggered back another step. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. Liam had never seemed like a liar, cheat, or player.

  But how else could she possibly interpret Gwyneth’s attire, all the implements of pain and impact play she’d seen…and, of course, the baby?

  “Poor thing. You’re crushed.” Gwyneth managed to look contrite. “In your shoes, I’d be utterly humiliated. I’m not sure I’d speak to the bastard again. Liam is a man with dark tastes. He enjoys the hunt, the game. I’m afraid you haven’t been much sport. From woman to woman, let me give you some advice: Wash your hands of him this minute, and he’ll never have the power to hurt you again. I’ll make certain he doesn’t bother you anymore.”

  Gwyneth gave Raine what she supposed passed as a kind smile. It looked more like a shark flashing its teeth. Or maybe she just felt that way because this gorgeous woman trumped her every day and twice on Sunday. Raine knew she was never getting Liam back.

  Did she really want to be his pity fuck or “pet” project anyway?

  Betrayal washed a chill through her. Raine didn’t want to believe Gwyneth, but with so much proof, how could she think otherwise?

  A sob rose from the depths of her chest. Her whole body jerked. Her face crumbled. No way would she let this beautiful bitch see her cry.

  Raine turned and ran from the condo and the building, tears blurring her vision as she climbed into her car. The old her would have run far and fast and never looked back. She wasn’t even sure what this Raine would do as she drove away.

  Chapter Ten

  Hammer stood at the front door of Shadows, waiting for Liam to return. He hoped his pal made it back before Raine, so they’d have some time to talk—not only about Gwyneth but to discuss the best way to break the news about the woman’s return to Raine at dinner.

  When the familiar black SUV pulled into the lot, Hammer watched Liam bound out of the vehicle and hurry toward the entrance. As he approached, Hammer opened the door wide and shot the man an expectant stare. “Well?�
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