My Liege of Dark Haven (17 page)

“Abby, are you coming to our party tonight?” Rebecca asked. The very pregnant redhead was married to Logan Hunt, one of the brothers who owned the Serenity wilderness lodge up the mountain. Simon said the dungeon play there was the highlight of the trip.

“That’s the plan, I guess.” But who would she know? She glanced at the women. Just Rona and Lindsey? Pregnant Rebecca sure wouldn’t be doing any scenes.

Across the table sat tiny, dark-haired Kallie, wife of Jake, the other Hunt brother. Summer was married to Virgil Masterson, one of the barbecue hosts, and was as fair as Kallie was dark.

“You’re both going?” Abby asked.

“Not me and Virgil.” Summer turned sideways to rub her bare foot on a sprawled-out, half-grown dog. The spaniel closed its eyes in bliss.

Abby sighed. Her renters had been delighted to babysit the puppies, but she missed them already.

“We’ll oversee the adult war games here and call it a night. Virgil doesn’t like public scenes.” Summer pointed at Kallie, who was Virgil’s cousin. “And he never, ever wants to see Kallie playing with Jake. He said he’d have to wash his eyeballs with bleach.”

Kallie choked on her hamburger. “Trust me, the sentiment is mutual.” She grinned at Abby. “Last year Virgil had fits about me dating someone into BDSM.” She dropped her voice to a low growl. “‘
Don’t fuck with her, Hunt, or I’ll pitch the badge and beat the shit out of you
.’ They even got into a fight on Main Street. Then Virgil goes off and gets his own submissive. Two-faced bastard,” she said lovingly.

Oh, talk about complicated relationships. Taking a sip of her iced tea, Abby added another mental note:
Must consider how other “family” dynamics affect a BDSM network
. At this rate, she’d have more questions than she did answers.

Hopefully tonight she’d have a chance to scribble out her impressions. She had more late nights in front of her, but she might,
might
get done in time.

She smiled as the guys around the barbecue burst into laughter. At a table on the grass, two old men were amiably insulting each other over a checkerboard. A child skidded down the waterslide on his chest, screaming in excitement. So many sounds of happiness.

“Don’t worry about tonight.” Rona patted her hand. “Simon and I will watch out for you. Usually about a third of the people are from Dark Haven, and you know them.”

“It’s my first time too,” Lindsey said in her soft Texas drawl.

Kallie smiled. “A couple of people are flying in, and we’ll have the local lifestylers. There’s some good-looking Doms around here if you like the rugged type.”

Abby thought of Xavier. He went past rugged into a deadly sophistication.
No, don’t think about him
. How would an outside party affect the dynamics of the Dark Haven group? Would a stranger enhance the “family” solidarity or detract from it? “Do the groups interact well together?”

“Pretty much,” Rebecca said. “The locals are less into edgy costumes, but there’s no difference in how people play.”

“Costumes?” Abby’s stomach took a nosedive. “Uh. I’m not sure how to dress. Is this, like, formal fetwear, or a jeans and T-shirt party?”

Rebecca frowned. “Why would any woman wear a T-shirt? Talk about unattractive.”

“It’s Becca’s mission,” Kallie said, “to put women into sexy clothing. She did the same for me last year.”

Becca sniffed. “Before meeting Logan, I dressed like a businesswoman, but he showed me that men enjoy a woman’s curves and how to show them off.”

“Apparently he enjoyed more than just your curves, girl.” Summer lifted an eyebrow at Becca’s eight-months-and-counting stomach.

“Brat.”

“You win.” Abby grinned at Becca. “I’ll donate my T-shirts to charity when I get home.”

“That’s the spirit.” Rubbing her stomach, Becca gave Summer a victorious smirk. “But really, anything you want to wear tonight is fine. If you’re submissive, you probably won’t have much on by the end of the night.”

“Well, see who came for the barbecue,” Rona said, motioning to the right. “I thought he didn’t come to Bear Flat.”

When Abby turned, her heart stuttered to a halt.

With Virgil beside him, Xavier strode across the lawn toward the deck, his gaze on her. He looked…amazing. Dark tan, carved facial features, black jeans worn smooth with use, a western shirt in a subtle dark plaid, and well-worn boots. A black cowboy hat shaded his face and made his eyes unreadable.

He shook hands with Jake Hunt before Simon walked over and said something. Xavier’s smile appeared, and he gave her another long stare before turning back to the men.

“I’ve never seen Xavier look at a woman with that kind of heat. Whew,” Summer said. “Now I understand why Victorian women carried fans.”

“You know him?” Abby asked. “I thought you lived here. With Virgil.”

“I used to live in San Francisco. In fact, I met Virgil at Dark Haven during a western night calf-roping game.”

“Let me guess—you were the calf?”

“Yep.” Summer laughed ruefully. “Xavier, ever so sweetly, handed me over to the one Dom in San Francisco who had ridden rodeo. Virg had me thrown and hog-tied in seconds.”

When the laughter died, Rebecca leaned back, her hands resting on her stomach. “I’ve never seen Xavier except at his club.” She smiled. “Daylight doesn’t diminish him at all, does it?”

Just the opposite, if that was possible. Abby watched the sunshine glow over his dusky coloring, aquiline nose, and strong jaw. He had the most elegant mixture of Native American and European ancestry she’d ever seen. A boy ran up to him, apparently admiring the thick black braid down his back. With a quicksilver smile, Xavier knelt to talk.

How could he appear so approachable yet be so distant with her? “Why is he here?”

“No telling. He’s a puzzle,” Rona said. “But Simon loves him like a brother. And he’s definitely focused on you, honey.” Her lips twitched. “Rebecca, we’ll have to make sure our Abby looks extremely seductive this evening.”

“I…I don’t think he’s interested, but thanks.” Oh heavens, he was headed straight for them. If he yelled at her, she’d burst into tears. She glanced at the door to the house behind her and wondered if she could escape.

XAVIER HAD STOOD for a moment, enjoying the festivities. The mingling of ages, from babies to old ones, reminded him of the parties his mother had taken him to when he’d been young. Then his father had decided his heir shouldn’t be tainted by a Native American heritage and had shipped him off to a European boarding school. His gut clenched.
Far in the past, Leduc.

He walked toward the deck, taking in the sight of his pretty summer toy. Her fluffy hair glinted in the sunlight, her cheeks were pink, and the dark red top fit over her full breasts so low and tight that he hardened.

Halfway up the steps, he held his hand out to her. Their conversation needed to be private.

She stared at him, reluctance and pain and something else—almost fear—in her gaze, yet she came to him with a sweet compliance that melted his heart. She stopped one step above him, as if making sure she could run. “I didn’t think you attended these parties.”

Would she rather he hadn’t? Unable to resist, he slid his hands under her shirt and over her bare skin. In the bright light he saw her pupils dilate and her lips redden. She roused so easily to his touch. He intended to rouse her more. Later.

“I wanted to be with you.” The honesty he tried to maintain demanded this acknowledgment.

“Really?” Her surprised expression saddened him. He’d shaken her confidence in herself. Even worse, she didn’t believe him. He framed her face with his hands and held her long enough to give her a hard, claiming kiss in case any men nearby had thoughts. In consideration of the children, he broke off before he wanted.

She’d curled her small fingers around his wrists, and her gray eyes had gone smoky. Lovely.

As he ran a finger over her lips, he looked forward to seeing them swollen from his mouth, his cock. If she wasn’t careful, even a gag. “Come with me. We’re going to talk.”

Taking her wrist firmly—he’d seen how she’d checked for escape routes—Xavier led her across the sloping lawn. He stopped beside a table with a chessboard set up.

“White or black?” he asked politely.

She flinched at the sound of his voice. Her gaze flickered up and away, and under his fingers her pulse was speeding, which seemed strange. He often took a submissive to the edge of fear, but this wasn’t a scene, and he hadn’t pushed Abby at all. “Why are you nervous?”

“I’m not.”

A lie. His mouth tightened.

She swallowed before asking in a near whisper, “Are you mad at me?”

She was worried he was angry? He studied her more closely. Yes, she looked like a child called to the headmaster’s office. Odd. The most painful reprimand he’d ever given her was a few swats of his hand. “Why would you think I’d be mad at you, little fluff?”

Her clear gray eyes were wide, and he didn’t resist the urge to move closer. Her rounded chin fit into the palm of his hand. “Tell me, Abby.”

“I…I don’t know. You look… I don’t know what you’re thinking, and you’re not smiling.” Her hands clenched together, and a shiver ran down her frame.

“You’re afraid of me?” He had trouble believing it. Her lack of fear had been one of the reasons she’d drawn him.

“I…” She swallowed and seemed to give herself a mental shake before really looking at him. “You’re not mad, are you?”

There
. Back with him again. She definitely had some odd headspaces. “Absolutely not. I’m angry with myself for hurting you, Abby. But you’ve done nothing wrong at all.”

“Oh.” Her eyes took on a sheen of tears, and then she nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he said softly. “Now, let’s play chess.” Her startled blink made him chuckle, and he gave her the absolute truth. “If I get you alone, I’m going to ravage you, pet.” He stroked her soft, soft cheek with his thumb and wanted to fill his palms with— He removed his hand and stepped back. “We need to talk first.”

“Oh, wonderful,” she said under her breath. “Um. Chess. I’ll take white.”

Somehow she managed to make him want to laugh and hug her at the same time. Instead he seated her at the table and chose the chair across from her. “White starts.”

Her bishop’s pawn moved out. He took his turn. They played silently for a few moves until he realized she’d let the silence hang forever—in the other game they were playing.
Your move, Leduc
. “You affect me in ways I’m not used to.”

Her gaze darted up to his, and, brave sub, she took her verbal turn, even as her bishop slid into position. “What ways? And if so, why did you…you…”

“I avoided you, yes. And that was the reason,” he said. “Since my wife died, I haven’t been with anyone who affected me other than physically.” He cleared a space for his queen to move out.

As she spoke, he heard the hurt in her voice. “You didn’t want to look at me when we made love. You turned me over.”

This observation was harder to answer. “Actually…” He sighed. “Sometimes I see her face when I’m with someone. That feels wrong, so I avoid the missionary position.” He needed to finish the thought for her sake. For honesty. “With you, I pulled away because all I saw was you.”

“Oh.” Her gaze dropped to the board. “I’m sorry about your wife. How long ago did she die?”

“Four years. And I’ve been comfortable with the way I live my life.” He tried to think of what he wanted to say next.

“Tell me about her? How you met. Who she was.”

He hesitated. He never spoke of Catherine. But Abby was watching him, her big eyes sad on his behalf. “She wasn’t traditionally beautiful. Just vibrant. Her husband and I attended grad school together and stayed friends. She was his slave, and when he died she became lost in a way that independent women can’t imagine. She wasn’t helpless, but…” How could he explain? “She was a person in a sailboat without an anchor. You might be an excellent sailor, but if your anchor is gone, then every time you relax, your boat blows off course.”

“I understand,” she said softly. “I’ve seen that happen with elderly widows. For a slave used to a more encompassing control, it must be terrifying.”

Softhearted Abby. “I couldn’t tolerate seeing that, so I took her home.” He lifted a bishop and rolled it between his fingers. “I’d only planned to keep her safe, but as time passed, we fell in love. She became my slave, my partner, my wife. When the local BDSM club went out of business, I started Dark Haven so she’d have a place to be with other slaves.”
She was my everything, in every corner of my life and heart.

Abby’s brows drew together. “Now you have slaves at home and still play with others at the club?”

She’d heard some gossip, then. “Close. I date some women, I’ll scene with club members or staff, and I’ll keep a slave until I find her a Master.” She probably should know that wasn’t his true nature. “I actually don’t enjoy being a twenty-four/seven Master.” He half smiled, remembering an argument with Catherine.

“
You’re a big girl. You can pick out your own clothes
.”

“
No. I should wear only what pleases you
.”

“Oh.” With a finger, she pushed a pawn forward one space.

“Avoiding you didn’t work, Abby. I’d like more.” He moved his bishop. “So the question is this: would you like to explore submission outside the club?”

Her gaze came up long enough for him to see the desire in her eyes. Without answering, she set her castle into action.

He waited. They played for a few minutes, and he had her bishop, but she’d taken his knight in turn. Pawns fell by the wayside. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said.

The corner of her mouth rose. “I’m thinking that you’re awfully bossy.”

He grasped her wrists—so delicate in his big hands—and flattened her arms on each side of the board. “I am that, pet, and you enjoy it. Now give me an answer and not an evasion.”

The flush in her face was a telling response to his control and attracted him in the same way his dominance did her. When she tried to pull away, he tightened his grip.