My Liege of Dark Haven (23 page)

Abby stared. Up until the night before he left, she and Nathan had been going together. Exclusive. Hadn’t they?

But the young woman knelt with her face only an inch from Nathan’s crotch…and the guilty flush flooding Nathan’s face was unmistakable.

A knife sliced into Abby’s chest, pushing deep. Hurting. He’d lied to her. He’d cheated on her. As the pieces of her trust dropped to the ground, she wanted to scream at him.

No. Don’t fight. No yelling
. She took a breath. Let it out. Took another. Refused to look at Xavier. “Good-bye, Nathan.” She turned away from him and picked up her bustier.

“That’s it? You blow the scene and that’s it?” Nathan reached for her.

She stepped around him.

“Fine. And good riddance, slut,” Nathan said, and she heard the cold rage.

That was what had attracted her—that he’d never turn into a monster like her father. She’d been a fool.

His voice rose, not a shout, but loud enough to be heard through the room. “Now that I think about it, I bet you’re not in the club to play, are you, Professor Bern? Are these people part of your research?”

She froze. How did he know?
Oh no, no, no.

His eyes widened as if he were surprised at her reaction. He jutted his head forward. “That paper you wanted to do on BDSM? Did you let them know you’re studying them like guinea pigs and planning to expose them in a scientific journal for everyone to read?”

The entire room went silent. People turned. Their stares bit into her like piranha, taking chunks of meat with every breath.

The silence lasted and lasted.

“Abigail,” Xavier said, “is that true?”

She tried to thread a lace through the hole of her bustier, but her fingers were numb. Shaking.

“Look at me.” He didn’t raise his voice, but the power in the command jerked her head up as if he’d pulled her hair. “Were you studying the members of the club?”

She nodded.
But they’re not guinea pigs, not to me. I’m one of—

“Explain to me.” The muscles of his jaw were so rigid his words came out clipped.

Her mouth was too dry to speak. She’d never been able to talk. Not if someone was mad at her. And she’d never seen anyone as angry as Xavier. Her insides curled up, waiting for the screams, the yells, the curses.

She yanked her gaze away as Logan said to Nathan, “Your ability to overlook a submissive’s use of her safe word—no matter the circumstances—ends your chance to play here.” He jerked his head toward the door.

Nathan backed away, gave her a nasty look, and left, trailed by the brunette. His
slut
.

“Talk to me, Abby.” Xavier paused, and his voice grew colder. “Or is it Professor Bern?”

She nodded and tried—tried to get words out. He needed to understand. Couldn’t speak. Screams and curses filled her ears, pounding on her brain.

He waited as a minute passed. Two. “All right. Perhaps this is best,” he said finally. “I am too angry to speak to you now, and perhaps you need time to think.” Each word was measured and even and so, so cold.

Ice couldn’t shield her from the knifelike words.

“In the morning I’ll explain the legal ramifications of attempting to publish anything about the club or its members. I suggest you be available.”

I’d never give names. The paper should help, not hurt
. She shut her eyes and pulled in a deep breath.
Will not cry. Will not cry
. The weight of disapproval made her legs unsteady.

When she raised her head, it was to meet Logan’s steely eyes. “You aren’t welcome in here. Stay in your cabin until Xavier comes for you.”

Nothing came to her lips. She nodded and concentrated on walking across the room without looking at anything. Anyone. Her coat was upstairs, but she couldn’t—couldn’t stop. As she reached the front, her shoulders shook as she tried to muffle the sobs welling from deep inside.

She pulled open the door and stepped into the cold.

FURY BOILING IN his veins, Xavier watched the lodge door close behind Abby. Her shoulders had been shaking, and the realization she was crying felt like a kick to his gut.

He couldn’t possibly pity her. She’d betrayed him, lied to him, lied to her friends, and put the club members at risk.

Yet his instincts urged him to go after her. To comfort her.

Absolutely not
. He rubbed his face, feeling as if he’d aged a decade in the last few minutes. “That was unexpected.”

Logan’s gaze was on the door as well. “Yeah. Dammit.”

“I wouldn’t have thought it of her,” Simon said. Rona walked over, and he pulled her close. “She seemed to have more character.”

Almost everyone in the room was staring. Whispers began to sprout like weeds.

“So I thought. I made Dark Haven private to prevent this kind of problem.” Xavier pressed his lips together as anger spiked again. This had the potential to destroy the entire club. “Now I know why she was always watching the other scenes.”

“I’d noticed that,” Simon said.

“Did you give her a chance to explain?” Rona’s face was pale. Worried.

“I asked. She wouldn’t talk.” Xavier frowned. Most people would have been spilling excuses, justifications. Instead she’d closed in. He’d seen that behavior from her before.

He shook his head. Her guilt had been written plain in her expression.

Yet he had a hard time believing the softhearted submissive would deliberately hurt anyone. Not just her friends, but anyone at all. He met Rona’s eyes. “I’ll give her another chance to explain tomorrow—when we’re both calmer.”

“Want to have a beer and talk it over?” Logan asked.

“That might be wise.” Simon’s face was dark with concern.

“Thank you, no. I need to think for a while.”

Chapter Fifteen

Hours of
thinking
had only increased Xavier’s frustration. The cabin was too small to pace properly, and he hadn’t been able to sleep. As dawn lit the sky, he laced up his running shoes. He needed to run off his anger before talking with Abby.

The air held a frosty bite that cleared his head, and the forest closed around him with a bottomless quiet a city dweller could never experience.

The beginning of the trail rose so steeply he had to scramble up it like a cliff. But once at the top, the well-groomed path flattened into a series of gentle switchbacks. His stride lengthened, and he broke into a jog.

As the first rays of the sun slanted through the trees, he moved into a steady run, warming and loosening muscles knotted since the evening had turned into a disaster.

He’d have sworn the little fluff was incapable of deliberately hurting someone. Yet she must have known a person would be at risk, socially or professionally, if their membership in a BDSM club became known. Even more damning, she hadn’t defended herself at all. Her expression had revealed her guilt, and Nathan’s accusation had held no taste of a lie.

Yes, she’d been doing research in his club.

He growled. The members were under his protection, and he had a responsibility to ensure their privacy. He obviously hadn’t done enough.

When his friend Zachary had recommended a personal interview for every applicant, Xavier had thought the idea excessive. Now he knew—a background check wasn’t adequate. Abby’s information hadn’t raised any flags. On her first day, he hadn’t been searching for lies, and he’d assumed her nervousness was simply because she was new.

After a glance at the rising sun, he turned back toward the lodge.

She’d told him she taught reading. Nathan called her
Professor
. Xavier had been blind. But he needed to hear her out, needed more from her than silence. Why hadn’t she talked to him? She’d given him nothing.

As the tree canopy blotted out the sun, the forest turned cold and shadowy. They had
nothing
.

Less than that. Slowing, he approached a curve on the trail. Her first day when he’d asked if she had a significant other, she’d lied. That was as much of a betrayal as her research.

Xavier’s pace increased, fueled by the hurt that refused to diminish. Rounding the curve, he broke into a run and—

The trail ended. White rock hung over darkness. The
cliff
.

With a grunt of anger, he dug in his heels.

Going too fast
. The loose pine needles and bark provided no traction. He skidded. His foot hit a buried stone, and pain shot up his leg as his ankle twisted.

He went off the trail at the steepest part.

* * * *

Abby had been awake all night.

Dawn came. The light through the curtains brightened.

The morning passed. Crying hadn’t helped. She still couldn’t think of what to do. Her ability to be logical had been destroyed under the avalanche of emotion. Every argument and reason kept dissolving with the memory of Xavier’s cold face. Cold, but she’d seen the flash of betrayal in his eyes before anger had covered it.

She knew, oh, she knew, what that kind of pain felt like. And she’d caused his.

Whenever she’d wrenched her thoughts from Xavier, she’d remember the disbelieving stares around her. Her new friends—women who’d laughed with her, helped her dress, teased her about Xavier—she’d betrayed them as well.

Why hadn’t she realized how they would feel? She’d never have started. No paper—no job—was worth hurting people, even if they hadn’t been her friends. Somehow she needed to explain, to reassure them her paper didn’t include anything identifying. They undoubtedly believed the subject was about sex and perversions, not the family they’d created.

But she hadn’t been able to tell them. Xavier had looked so…angry…and her cowardly body had simply frozen.

Dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, she sat on the bed, arms wrapped around her knees, unable to summon up the willpower to move.
I hurt my friends. Xavier
. The pain of that was unbearable.

With the windows closed, drapes drawn, she listened as cars fired up and retreated down the road. Xavier didn’t come. No one came.

Sluggishly she rose, her joints aching like a ninety-year-old’s. Her muscles complained of yesterday’s war games and a long night of not moving. She drank a glass of water in the tiny bathroom. Coffee, breakfast, tea, everything was at the main lodge, and she wouldn’t go there. Ever.

Maybe she was supposed to get herself home? But surely someone would tell her that. She’d actually prefer to take a bus. Returning to San Francisco with Simon and Rona, spending hours in their silent company, would be a nightmare.

She climbed back on the bed, pushed her glasses up, and stared at the wall. At one point she’d started to calculate the mean and median number of holes in an average log.

Had Nathan left?

Do I care?
She tried to find grief or sadness—even anger—but her emotions felt as if a bulldozer had flattened them. He had a “slut” at the club. How long had he enjoyed both of them? She gritted her teeth. At least Dark Haven had checked her for diseases. Who knew she’d be grateful?

Why hadn’t she seen through Nathan? The signs had been there. He belonged to a BDSM club. He’d wanted to add more kink to their sex life but hadn’t invited her to join. They never had a date on a Friday night. She’d been blind.

How had he figured out she was doing research? Her teeth gritted together as she realized that he hadn’t guessed. He’d just thrown out the accusation to be vindictive. Unfortunately, he’d been right.

Noise burst into the cabin as someone pounded on the door.
Xavier.

Her heart thumped so hard it probably cracked ribs. She froze for a minute, and in that interval he pounded again. The sound was a blatant indication that their talk wouldn’t go well.

She pulled open the door. “I’m sor—”

Not Xavier
. Logan stood on the doorstep. His face was so cold that the scarred-up dog behind him looked friendlier. “I’m taking you to town. Get your things.”

“But—”

His expression didn’t encourage questions.

“Right.”

So Xavier had decided not to talk to her. Her hopes crumbled like winter leaves. She grabbed her purse and turned to get her bag, but Logan had already picked it up and waited by the door.

They walked to the parking area, and she climbed into his pickup truck.

Silence.

By the time the truck turned onto the larger highway toward Bear Flat, Abby’s hands had curled into fists. This was unbearable. She pulled in a breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” She felt the weight of his gaze. “I’m disappointed in you.”

Was this what being flayed alive felt like? She stared at her hands. The roughness of his voice made it clear she’d hurt him. Hurt Becca.
Reassure him about the paper
. “I need to explain.”

“I’m not going to discuss this with you, Abby. Not until you’ve talked with Xavier.”

An interminable amount of time later, he drove into the tiny town of Bear Flat and parked. As she slid out of the truck, he plucked her bag out of the back and stowed it in a familiar-looking SUV.
Please, don’t let that be Xavier’s car.

“Where’s Simon?” Abby asked faintly, dread growing in her belly.

“They left a couple of hours ago.” Logan’s hard mouth curled slightly. “Xavier needs someone to drive him, and since he wants to talk with you alone, you got your ass drafted.

“Needs… Did he get drunk or something?”

Logan nudged her onto the boardwalk.

But they walked past the police station. The next building’s window displayed BEAR FLAT MEDICAL CLINIC in black lettering.

Xavier was hurt? She grabbed Logan’s arm and yanked him to a stop. “You tell me what happened. Right now!”

“He fell off a cliff.”

* * * *

In an exam room, Xavier sat in a wheelchair and tried to ignore the pain. His ankle throbbed, his head hammered, and his shoulder persisted in sending burning stabs through the joint. He’d have appreciated some consistency in the texture and timing of the various hurts, but no such luck.

The clinic life went on around him. A phone ringing. A baby crying. From the room across the hall came the doctor’s voice trying to reassure a child.