My Liege of Dark Haven

Chapter Ten

With an exasperated grunt, Xavier laid the pen down on his office desk and walked over to his wall of windows. Fog had rolled in off the ocean, and the normally spectacular view of San Francisco Bay from the Financial District was gray and grim.

He couldn’t see Dark Haven in the South of Market from here. Instead he looked toward the north, where Abby fostered puppies that needed her help. And she’d given it, just as she’d given him anything he asked for.

Shame weighed him down as he thought of how he’d left her so abruptly. Spending the night had been foolish, although he hadn’t had much choice. No Dom abandoned a submissive unable to care for herself.

But to have taken her in her own bed? Idiot. He always insisted a woman come to his house, so when he was gone her home would contain no painful memories to expunge.

Catherine had left her ghost behind in their home. Every room reminded him of the places they’d made love, her laughter at the dining table, her on her knees in the foyer waiting for him to return.

Over the years the phantom images had faded. Now she haunted him only occasionally…during sex. A woman’s features would blur into Catherine’s freckled face, her vibrant red hair, and her blue-green eyes. The occurrences left him guilt-ridden, as if he’d deceived both his wife and the woman in his bed.

Saturday night with Abby had been…different. She had a comfortable personality, giving and intelligent, sweet with a wry sense of humor. Her subconscious response to him was compelling, and in the club, she’d given him one of the prettiest orgasms he’d ever seen. He enjoyed the musky spice of her scent, her husky moans, and her surprise when her body overrode her mind.

He rubbed his chin, remembering her sweetness with the puppies and how she’d put their needs before her own. He not only liked her, but his urgency to bury himself inside her quivering, soft body had been unsettling. Only his wife had tested his control like that—and in taking Abby, needing her, glorying in her, he’d felt as if he betrayed Catherine.

That was foolish, of course. Catherine was dead. Like a blazing meteor, she’d lived her life to the fullest and departed as quickly. She would yell at him for the way he’d dealt with her death.

He shook his head. But I don’t want a replacement. He had no intention of replacing his sun goddess with a moon maiden—he just needed a new slave.

Not someone like Abby. The teacher was a Dark Haven staff member. He owed her his protection and some instruction. Nothing more. And he needed to stay within those boundaries despite the temptation to take her home. If he didn’t, she’d end up hurt in the end. Avoiding her would be better; she’d understand without an explanation.

He should ask Simon to find her some experienced, reputable Doms to play with. Yet the idea of her with someone else was unpalatable. As he watched the fog start to dissolve under the weight of the sun, he knew Abby wasn’t the only one who might be hurt.

Mouth tight, he yanked the curtains shut.

At his desk he frowned at the pile in his in-box and the long list of e-mails displayed on the screen. This hadn’t been a productive Monday morning.

Two e-mails and one letter later, his middle-aged administrative assistant tapped on the door before opening it. “Marilee Thompson is here. Rona Demakis sent her.”

“Yes, Rona warned me.” The hospital administrator said Marilee had escaped from an abusive husband and ended up in Rona’s hospital with internal bleeding. Two children. No skills. No job history. Rona suspected the woman couldn’t read.

“Bring her in, please.”

Short and round, Ms. Thompson might have been pretty if her face hadn’t been puffy and purple-green from bruising. Xavier tamped down his anger and motioned toward the sitting area on the far side of the office. “Ms. Thompson, please have a seat.”

“Mr. Leduc.” Clad in an ugly brown skirt and white shirt, she stood straight, hands trembling. “I…I didn’t realize. I’m sorry to have taken your time.” She turned to leave.

He shook his head. Although comfortable, his office was designed for intimidation. Just another tool for a canny businessman to employ. But meeting her downstairs might have been wise. Too late now. “Marilee, if you leave, Rona will yell at me.” He smiled and saw her relax a fraction. “Please, sit.”

She perched on the edge of a leather chair. Abby’s smallest puppy had shown the same timidity when venturing too far from the pack.

Xavier sat on the couch, stretching his legs out. See, I won’t attack. “I admire your courage in leaving your husband and coming all the way here from the Midwest.”

She stared at her hands.

“My mother was in a similar situation. She ran to San Francisco from New Orleans.”

That brought her head up. Her eyes were dark brown, the color of his mother’s. “And she took you along?”

“Not exactly.”

“She left you with him?” Marilee frowned.

“No, she wouldn’t have done that. I was at a European school and didn’t even know she’d left.” When she’d missed her weekly calls, Xavier had called home. His father had been incoherent with rage—and alcohol. Xavier’s lips tightened. He hadn’t known his father had turned abusive, but the neighbor had described his mother’s condition when she ran. “I stowed away on a boat, worked my way across the ocean, then hitchhiked to San Francisco.”

“My goodness. How old were you?”

“I turned seventeen two days after I arrived. I was certain I could help her.” Xavier gave her a rueful look. “Instead I was one more burden.”

“You poor baby.” Her compassionate expression showed she no longer saw him as intimidating but as a child like one of her own.

Softhearted women pulled at him every time.

“My mother deserves the sympathy. She had no marketable skills and ended up holding down three jobs.” She’d insisted he finish school, which meant he could only work part-time. Food wasn’t plentiful; clothes were secondhand, treats nonexistent. Then his father had died, leaving everything to Xavier. At least he’d had a few years to pamper his mother before she died. “But she never gave up.”

Marilee’s spine stiffened in an obvious sign that she wouldn’t quit either.

“Rona said she found you somewhere to stay while you heal. Meantime, we’ll concentrate on finding you a job.”

“Once the doctor gives the okay, I can clean. Bus tables. Do yard work.”

No heavy physical work for a while, Rona had said. But light labor usually required reading. “Marilee, I need you to be honest with me. How much can you read? Do you know your letters? Can you sound out words at all—or do you memorize them?”

Her head went back down, her hands clenched.

He waited patiently. As a Dom he’d learned that silence often extracted more answers than persuasion.

She drew in a slow breath. “I’ve learned the letters—I just can’t do anything with them. I memorize what words look like.”

“Thank you. I know that wasn’t easy to share.”

With his smile, she relaxed. “Job hunting isn’t easy. Not when…”

“Stella’s will find you a job, and unless you object, we’ll get you reading classes as well.”

The spark of hope in her dark brown eyes was his reward.

After she’d left, Mrs. Benton came into his office. “I helped Ms. Thompson set up an appointment tomorrow at Stella’s.”

“Excellent. Have one of the secretaries—a kind one—assist her in filling out an application.”

“Of course.” Mrs. Benton waited, not bothering to take notes. The woman had a trapdoor memory.

He rubbed his chin, considering. Pam Harkness wasn’t the most experienced placement counselor but had a way with frightened women. “Assign her to Ms. Harkness. Let her know we need to find Marilee a job, or Simon will kill me.”

His admin laughed. “We’ll do our best.” And they would, simply because they cared.

Most of the Leduc Industries and Stella’s personnel had experienced the same nightmare—lacking skills and unable to find a job.

“I will entrust her to your care, then. Thank you, Mrs. Benton, and please keep me informed as to her progress.” As the door closed, Xavier smiled. When he’d hired the insecure, almost-in-tears Mrs. Benton, he’d never imagined how a degree in business would transform her into someone so formidable.

Xavier turned back to his work, firmly putting aside his new ghost—one with wispy blonde hair, pale skin, and unhappy eyes the color of the fog outside.

So. What now? After her Saturday receptionist duty, Abby walked through the crowd on Dark Haven’s main floor, trying not to look for Xavier.

He hadn’t shown up on Friday. DeVries—Xavier’s Enforcer—had uncollared her and Lindsey. Abby’d been nervous, but he’d grinned and reminded her that he couldn’t whip her without Xavier’s permission. After he’d strolled away, Lindsey admitted the Dom scared her—almost as much as he turned her on.

Talk about insanity. Being attracted to deVries was like a moth saying, Hey, let’s go check out that awesome bonfire.

Unfortunately Abby had also flown too close to a fire—the dangerous one called my liege.

This evening Xavier had arrived late, and when he’d come into the reception area, he’d been distant, both emotionally and physically. She hadn’t realized how often he’d invaded her personal space until he stopped. Her wings were definitely scorched, and she’d hit the ground hard.

Pulling in a pain-filled breath, Abby looked at the people around her. Mistress Angela was in a latex bra, mesh tank top, and latex pants tucked into lace-up, knee-high boots. Her submissive wore only a loosely woven mesh dress.

Last week Xavier had decided the current fetwear was boring and arbitrarily declared Saturday a “see-through” or mesh night. Apparently his quirks were well-known, and the members always checked the club calendar for surprises. She had to admit, some people had a real talent for dressing up.

Wanting to look good, Abby had bought a prom dress from a secondhand store. She’d worn only the overlay, and her white skin showed clearly from under the soft pink lace. The Doms had been giving her lingering looks of appreciation.

Xavier hadn’t even noticed.

It hurt. Moron, you let yourself get attached. She’d blindly followed a trail that had petered out, leaving her lost and unsure what to do. She bit her lip. Whatever stupid thing she’d done during sex must have been bad, since he’d already been retreating when she rose from the bed.

The sound of bickering caught her attention. She looked to see a Dom and his partner arguing over the submissive’s flirtatious ways.

I’m here to observe. Nothing else. Taking mental notes, Abby chose a nearby table. If she didn’t get her research done, she was doomed.

Around her, people talked, laughed, and danced to the industrial rock music. She leaned her arms on the table and stared at the grain of the wood. If only the project were over, she could go home and not return. But she had a job to do.

“How’re you doing, girlfriend?” Dixon sat down beside her and pushed over a can of diet soda. “You look like you need this.”

Totally out of the blue, her eyes pooled with tears.

“Oh, shit, don’t do that.” He scooted his chair closer and patted her hand frantically. “If the big boss thinks I made you cry, he’ll give me over to the Enforcer, and I’ll get caned, and not in a good way.

She sniffled and managed to laugh. “Sorry.” What was the matter with her? She rarely cried—and never, ever in public. But her emotions felt abraded to the point of bleeding. “Xavier won’t care. No worries.”

Dixon’s eyes rounded. “Christ on a crutch, you’re why he’s in such a pissy mood?”

Her hopes lifted…and crashed back down. “Don’t think so.”

“Be gnarly if my liege was crushing on you, but damn, girl, you’d be insane to hook up with him. I mean, sure, everybody knows he’s awesome at scenes and sex.” He fanned himself. “But he’s not into relationships, so don’t you waltz down that path. You hear what I’m sayin’?”

“Oh, I hear.”

“If you even look like you’re getting a hard-on for him, he’ll kick your ass to the curb.”

“Yeah, well…too late.” Her eyes filled again. I don’t even know what I did wrong.

“What’s the problem here?” A hard hand closed on her shoulder in an unyielding grip, and the unspoken don’t move paralyzed every muscle in her body. Xavier’s voice was cold, turning her bones to ice. “Dixon, what have you done?”

The slender submissive landed on his knees in the smoothest shift she’d ever seen. “My liege, I didn’t…” Dixon glanced at her, and then his chin jutted out in uncharacteristic belligerence. “I didn’t cause her tears.”

Oh, nice. Humiliate me, why don’t you? As the grip on her shoulder tightened painfully, she glared at Dixon, but he didn’t notice. His gaze stayed on Xavier for a long, long moment before dropping to the floor.

The silence from Xavier grew until it filled every molecule of space around the table. “I see.”

I’ve had enough of this. Bursting into tears had reached so high a possibility that it shook her. I want to go home. She tried to push away from the table.

Xavier shifted, his hip keeping the chair from moving. He didn’t release her. “I’ll deal with you in a minute, pet.”

He turned slightly and raised his voice. “Master deVries.”

Dixon gave a horrified squeak like a puppy that had fallen off a step, and dropped his forehead to the floor in abject surrender.

Abby watched the heavy-jawed Dominant approach. He scanned the group with sharp, gray-green eyes and lifted one eyebrow when Dixon didn’t move. “Can I be of assistance here?”

Oh no, what did Xavier want with him? His reputation was…scary. Past scary. A bisexual sadist. She shivered, and his lips curved in a sensual smile as he drank it in.

Xavier set his boot on the back of Dixon’s head, pressing his forehead into the floor. “If you have time to spare, I have an interesting dilemma.”

DeVries’s eyes lit. “I have a bit of time.”

“Dixon was brave enough to be honest with me, but disrespectful in doing so. I’d like him rewarded for his courage and punished for his attitude.”

“Ah.”

The gleam in the man’s eyes made Abby stiffen. “No! He shouldn’t be punished. I won’t—”

Xavier’s wide palm covered her mouth even as he caught her hair in his fist. “Loyalty is a fine thing. Stop while I’m still admiring it.”

She tried to wrench away, and the pull on the strands turned painful.

DeVries chuckled. “Be fun to haul these two up, side by side, and find out who would scream—or come—first.”

No. Oh no.

“Thank you, but I intend to work with this one alone.”

“Pity.”

Xavier lifted his boot. “Dixon, go with Master deVries. Remember to thank him when he’s finished with you.”

“Yes, my liege.” Dixon knelt up. He gave her a glance that showed both fear and excitement before looking at the Enforcer.

“Lose the clothes, boy.”

Dixon stood and pulled off his mesh top and biker shorts.

“Nice fat balls. I have some clamps and spiked chains that should be just right.” He removed the crop hanging from his belt and put the wood between Dixon’s teeth. “Hands and knees. Bad boys don’t walk.” After snapping his fingers, he strolled away.

Dixon shivered once, then dropped and crawled after him.

As the two headed toward the dungeon stairs, Xavier released Abby. He settled into Dixon’s chair, leaned back, and stretched out his legs. The silence grew. His gaze stayed on her. What was he waiting for?

Oh. She dropped to her knees before him, not nearly as gracefully as Dixon had managed. It took an act of will to lower her eyes.

Who knew silence could turn the air thick and sultry? Like a tropical paradise. Like hell.

“I caused the tears?” he asked finally.

“Of course not.” Perhaps it was good that she was staring at the floor. “I simply had a bad day at work.”

A minute passed. What was this, death by silence? Her teeth gritted together.

“Try again.”

Di te perdant. “Excuse me, sir, but we’re not in a relationship, so my feelings belong to me.” A tremor ran through her at the memory of his hand between her legs and his deep voice saying, “Right now, this cunt is my toy to play with as I want.”

When he leaned forward, so powerful and confident, goose bumps rose on her arms. He traced the top of her collar, and the brush of his calloused fingertip flared heat inside her. “What are you wearing, pet?”

She should slap his hand away. “A collar. Sir.”

“Whose?”

She started to say the club’s and thought better of it. “Yours.”

“I’d say that’s a type of relationship, wouldn’t you?” Despite his mild tone, anger underlaid the words.

Every cell in her body cringed. She’d made him mad. Any second now he’d yell and scream names at her and… Her breathing turned jerky. What could she say to keep him from getting more upset? “I’m sorry. Whatever I did last week, I didn’t mean to. I’m—”

“Look at me,” he said, his tone without any emotion at all, as if he’d buried his fury in ice.

Her gaze rose to meet his black, unreadable eyes.

Forearms resting on his knees, he studied her intently. “When I left so quickly last week, it hurt you.”

She couldn’t conceal her flinch. Don’t make him mad. Madder. “It was silly of me. There’s nothing between us, after all. We just had sex.”

“Yes, we certainly did.”

She so, so wanted to ask him what had happened, what she’d done, but the words wouldn’t come. More questions would anger him further. Make him yell at her.

His gaze didn’t falter, as if he were trying to read her soul.

“My liege!” A submissive Abby didn’t recognize ran up to the table. Her eyes were wide. “There’s a policeman at the door. He insists on coming in.”

When Xavier released Abby’s gaze, she felt as if she were falling backward. Straightening her shoulders, she hauled in a breath.

Xavier stood, looming over her. “We’ll talk when I get back, Abby.”

Sure, and I’ll hear how you didn’t mean to hurt me, but—blah, blah, blah. She turned her gaze to the floor, waiting until his boots moved out of her sight. Time to cut and run. But what about the research? Torn, she pushed to her feet.

“Abby, I was looking for you.” Simon walked over, his wife beside him. Indifferent to Xavier’s dictates, he wore a suit.

Rona had dressed for the evening, though, in a transparent halter top. Her calf-length black skirt had long rectangles cut from it and exposed her flesh each time she moved. As always, her thick gold choker ringed her neck. When she looked at Abby, her smile died. “Are you all right?”

“Fine. It’s been a long night.”

When Simon’s eyes narrowed, she held her hand up. “Please. Don’t make it a longer one.”

“Clever defense,” he said. “All right.”

Abby managed to curve her lips up. “You were looking for me?”

“Rona and I thought you might enjoy a Fourth of July party at a mountain lodge near Yosemite. You’d meet lifestylers outside the club. This year the Mastersons are having a barbecue with vanilla activities at their place. In the evening, we’ll head up the mountain for the Serenity Lodge’s dungeon party.”

“We’d spend the night in delightful little cabins at the lodge,” Rona said.

Abby glanced toward the door through which Xavier was disappearing. If she saw him all day long, she’d end up hiding under a bush in tears.

Simon followed her gaze and gave her a speculative look. “Although Xavier has a standing invitation, he hasn’t visited Serenity in the last five years or so.”

He wouldn’t be there. The knowledge was almost as dismal. She opened her mouth to refuse and stopped. If she went, she’d have hours to conduct her studies. At an informal party, she could chat and ask questions. Maybe obtain all she needed—in which case, she wouldn’t have to return here.

The thought of never seeing Xavier again stabbed her so hard she couldn’t breathe for a moment, but it passed. Everything always passed. “The hosts wouldn’t mind?”

“Jake and Logan Hunt are used to me inviting a batch of city kinksters to their play parties. For the Mastersons’ barbecue, the invitation is for anyone in the area. The entire town attends.”

“Well, then, thank you. I’d love to go. Is there a map or something?”

“It’s mountain driving, and some of the roads are rough. Is your car up to it?”

Ouch. Her little car bottomed out even on driveways. “Well—”

“I’d like to have her drive up with us, Master,” Rona said softly.

Simon nodded agreement. “We’d enjoy your company, Abby. How about we pick you up in the morning?”

It would keep her from chickening out. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

WHEN XAVIER RETURNED, he was shaking his head in annoyance. The beat cop sent to deal with a street fight had simply assumed the problem was at Dark Haven.

Wrong. As usual the problem was at the redneck bar farther down the street. The bouncers would break up an altercation, throw the drunks out, and they’d continue their battle outside.

Xavier had escorted the officer to the bar. The patrolman was new with a few unfortunate prejudices. Although alcohol was available if people didn’t play, Dark Haven discouraged drinking. If a member wanted to fight, there were usually some others who would happily pull out the mats and get down with rough body play. In BDSM even fighting was consensual.

Xavier went past Lindsey and entered the main room. No Abby. Frowning, he returned to the reception area. “Did Abby leave?”

Lindsey nodded. “Master Simon uncollared her before he and Rona walked her out.”

Xavier glanced at the wall clock. “It’s not very late.”

“Oh, they’re planning to get an early start.” Lindsey gave him a quick glance. “For that party in the mountains. Around Bear Flat.”

She hadn’t waited for him. Hadn’t wanted to see him. “I see.”