My Liege of Dark Haven (35 page)

Janae’s face twisted. “You don’t—”

“No, I don’t. But I recognize a self-centered woman who hurts everyone around her.” He peeled away her hand like removing a slug from his shoe, strode through the house and out the front door.

“Can I help you, sir?” The valet hurried over.

“Abby. Has she—”

The uniformed man pointed toward red taillights speeding away. She must have parked near the door rather than in the lot.

Janae had set him up like a patsy, just to get her claws in Abby. And he’d fallen for it. Rage simmered in his guts, but guilt—and worry—overwhelmed it.

He hit speed dial on his phone, calling her cell.
No answer
. He left a message on it and then at her house. “I’m sorry, Abby. We need to talk. Call me.”

Although knowing she wouldn’t return to his house, he went there anyway. Hoping. He had to check. Yes, her clothing was still in the dresser.

Back out into the cold.
How could I have screwed up so fatally?

She wasn’t at her duplex. As he stared at the blank windows, his jaw was so tight his teeth made grinding noises. Where was she? Driving? Hurt? She might be crying. Wouldn’t be careful. Could have an accident.

He called the emergency rooms. All of them. Called in a favor and had a friend check the police reports.

Nothing.

What the hell had he done? Last night she’d said she loved him. As if in answer, he’d taken her stepsister to her parents’ party.

He punched in another number. Simon said she hadn’t called.

She wasn’t at her office at the university.

Xavier drove to Dark Haven, where Lindsey’s number was in the files. Abby hadn’t called her. Wasn’t there.

How could he get her to believe he wanted to be with her? Only her.

What about her parents? Harold Edgerton’s number was listed. He punched it in. Grace called him several names, the nicest of which was
slimy scumsucker
, but finally admitted Abby wasn’t there.

Back to Mill Valley. He parked on the road and stared at the empty parking spot and the black windows. She hadn’t returned to her duplex.

He let his head fall back. Let his anger loose…

Goddamn motherfucking son of a bitch
. If—when—he found her, he was going to turn her ass a rosy red, after he fucking apologized for a fucking eternity. He had been a fucking gullible idiot. Janae would regret hurting Abby—yes, she definitely would—but he was the one who’d done the damage.

He scrubbed his hands over his face and pulled in a breath. Pulled back his control.

He stuck a message to her door. Put more messages on every voice mail she owned. “Abby, I’m sorry. I love you. Call me.”

When he gave up and returned home, the house was too quiet. No Abby. No warmth. His world had been hollowed to emptiness in one night.

He’d ripped her heart out and stomped on it—that was how she must feel. The knowledge that he’d caused her such pain—even if he hadn’t intended to—sliced through him, leaving agony behind.

How could he fix this? He needed to
fix
it.

* * * *

At the vista point at the end of Point Lobos, Abby watched the starlight on the Pacific Ocean. No moon at all. Waves broke over the rocky cliffs below, covering up the noise from the city.
Lands End
. It seemed the place to be right now. Ships had wrecked here off the rocky coast, unable to navigate the waters. Much like her attempt at a relationship.

Or maybe it hadn’t even been a relationship.

What was wrong with her that she wasn’t enough for a man? First Nathan, then Xavier. The damp air swirling up the cliffs chilled her tear-dampened face.

“I don’t get it,” she whispered to the dark trees. “He acted as if he liked me. He wanted me to live with him.”
And stupid me, I fell in love with him.

But who wouldn’t? Along with that hard-edged domination, he was tender and loving and protective.

Janae had called her a slave, just someone for him to fuck. Abby rested her chin on her knees as her hair whipped around her face.
If all he wanted was a slave, then why did he cook me breakfast yesterday? And hold me when I cried?

He’d said over and over that he didn’t want a slave. He wanted someone to talk with at supper, to trounce at billiards, and to play tag with in the swimming pool. He’d said he enjoyed arguing with her.

“I’m not a slave,” she muttered, feeling the familiar anger and frustration at her stepsister. The waves below slapped into the rocks. Her hand shook with the need to slap Janae’s face.

But violence wouldn’t change the truth.

Just like all her men, Xavier preferred Janae.
I wasn’t even good enough to date
. He’d never taken her anywhere. Not even to a movie.

She swiped her arm over her wet cheeks. He’d been loving and sweet last night…until she said she loved him.

“
Give me a day to think
,” he’d said. And then he took Janae out. To dance with. To introduce to his friends and be introduced in turn. To Mom and Harold’s party.

She’d done his introduction to Mom and Grace wrong.
It should have been: “Mom, this is Janae’s date and my Master who keeps me around to fuck.”

Year after year Janae left her feeling inadequate. But she’d never felt like the dregs at the bottom of a teapot before. The mournful sound of a boat coming in wafted over the water. The air had cooled, and she was still in her gown. It would be stained from sitting on a rock.
I never want to see it again.

I never want to see Xavier again.

As she stood, her stiff muscles ached, and she shivered, chilled inside and out. What should she do now? Her clothes were at his house.

Xavier would want to talk. If she didn’t return to his place, he’d show up at hers. He might not love her, but he never abandoned his responsibilities. He’d want to make sure she was all right.

Well, she wasn’t. And she didn’t particularly care what he thought.

Discedere ad inferos
, my liege.
Go to hell.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Xavier parked in front of Abby’s duplex. It was Wednesday, and her car wasn’t there.
Still
. He’d driven by several times a day—and night—and as far as he could tell she hadn’t returned home since the party last Saturday. Her summer classes had concluded as of last week. She wasn’t at the university. He’d stuck another note on her door.

At the volunteer center she’d called in and handed over her beloved literacy class to a different instructor for “a while.” He scrubbed his face, scowling at the scrape of stubble. He needed to shave.

He’d left messages everywhere.

But she was alive. The last time he’d called her parents’ home, her mother had informed him that Abby was fine, then hung up on him. That didn’t sound fine.

He closed his eyes. How could he make things right if he couldn’t find her? Talk with her? He huffed a laugh. He couldn’t even send her the old standby, flowers, to get his foot in the door.

With a sigh he turned his car around and headed home.

An SUV sat in his driveway, and his front door stood open. His spirits lifted like a wind had filled the sails. The car wasn’t Abby’s, but no one else had a key to his house. She was here. He started to pull in beside the vehicle.

No
. “No more running, little fluff.” He parked his car directly behind the SUV, thwarting any chance of her escaping him.

Hopes rising, he strode up to the house.

Rona stepped out and almost dropped a suitcase at the sight of him. “Xavier.” Her face turned an interesting color of red.

“Are you robbing me, Rona?”

“I… We… I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Is Abby inside?”

After a second she regained her self-possession in the way that so delighted Simon. Her chin rose. “No, we’re not stealing from you, and Abby isn’t here.”

From her stubborn expression, she’d dispensed as much information as he would get. He heard someone pattering down the inside stairs and after a second realized they weren’t his little sub’s footsteps. She really wasn’t here. His optimism drained away, leaving him exhausted.

Lindsey trotted out the door and stopped short with a startled huff of air. “Oh.”

“Tell me where Abby is.” He put an edge of command into the order.

“She’s—” Her mouth closed, and her expression matched Rona’s. “Sorry, sir. I’m just a moving girl and sure not going to poke my nose into something that’s none of my business.” From the hostility in her face, she’d definitely taken sides.

Xavier tamped down his anger. He’d hurt Abby badly, and she had a right to protect herself. He shouldn’t be surprised she’d found some staunch defenders. His little fluff had the knack of winning hearts, even if she didn’t realize it.

Lindsey made a wide detour around him and put the suitcase in the car. With a dismissive look, Rona followed.

He had half a mind to tell them never to set foot in Dark Haven again, but they hadn’t broken club rules. Rona hadn’t even disobeyed Simon, since their D/s relationship didn’t extend to certain areas—like who Rona had for friends.

Xavier wanted the same kind of flexible arrangement with Abby—if he could ever figure out how to find her.

After opening her car door, Rona glared at him. “Xavier, please move your car.”

“In a minute.” From the unfriendly stares bouncing off his hide, he’d have no success pleading his case with them. And that discussion should happen between him and Abby. “Will you ask her to call me?”

Rona shook her head. “She doesn’t want to hear about you or from you.”

Then she’d probably never listened to the voice mails he’d left. “You will take two messages to her from me.” His voice came out hard, and they both took a step back. “Her research project is due tomorrow, but the deal was that I’d read the final draft.”

Lindsey looked at him in dismay. “But—”

“The first message is—I’ll accept Simon’s judgment as an adequate substitute.”

Relief crossed Rona’s face. “That’s kind of you. She’s been worried.”

The little fluff wouldn’t believe any admission of love. Not at this point. What would work to lure her to him? “The second message is simply this: I was wrong.”

Both women looked startled.

He attempted to smile. “I won’t try to track her,
if
you promise you’ll convey just that.”

Lindsey still looked more ready to spit in his face than take the message, but the streaky-haired Texan had fled a brutal divorce.

He looked at Rona instead.

She finally nodded. “Okay. You’ve got your two messages.”

* * * *

Abby took her suitcase and swung it onto the bed in Lindsey’s guest room. “Thanks, Rona.”

“You’re welcome. However, the price is that you join us for some wine, Ms. Hermit.” Rona gave her a mother’s formidable frown.

I don’t want to leave this room
. But she needed to. She’d hidden like a wounded lion in a cave. “I haven’t been very sociable, have I?”

“Quite understandable, but it’s time to rejoin the world. Now.”

“Are you sure that Simon is the dominant one in your marriage?”

“Most definitely.” Rona smiled smugly from the doorway. “But everywhere else? I
rule
.”

As the door closed, Abby laughed, probably her first one in days.

She washed her face in cool water, then followed the sound of voices down the narrow hallway, through the almost bare living room, and onto the balcony. Lindsey’s new apartment was on the eighth floor with a pretty view of the city. The two women sat at a tiny café table. Lindsey had propped her bare feet on the wrought iron railing. Her deep-red toenails shimmered with glittering stars.

Not having toenails that could compete, Abby chose a chair behind the table and poured herself a glass of wine. “Mmmm.” The merlot was smooth and fruity. “Very nice.”

“It’s one of my favorites. When I took a group tour of the Napa Valley, I fetched back a few bottles for my wine cellar.” Lindsey grinned. “Poor me. My cellar is only a wooden rack in the hall closet, but it’s a start.”

“I’ve visited wineries, but since I drove, I had to stop after a drink or two,” Abby said, making an effort to share in the conversation. “A tour would be smart.”

Rona nodded. “That’s true. Maybe we should book a weekend and go enjoy ourselves.”

“I—” Abby started to refuse and stopped at the sight of Lindsey’s hopeful eyes. The streaky-haired brunette had moved from Dallas to escape a horrible marriage, but she’d grown up in Texas, and her family and friends were all there. How sad to go from an abundance of relatives and friends to none. “I’d love to try a tour.” Especially since she didn’t have the heart to go on her usual vacation abroad. “I’ve got almost a month before school starts. Sign me up.”

Much like Grace, Lindsey showed every emotion—and now she glowed. “Shoot, the three of us? Those wineries won’t know what hit them.”

Odd how making someone else happy could lift a person’s spirits. Abby’s smile seemed to fit on her face again. She raised her glass to toast, and there was nothing there. “How did I drink that so fast?”

Rona filled the glass. “You’re not driving, so who cares?” She poured some into Lindsey’s glass. “Neither are you.” After opening a new bottle of wine, she filled her own. “And you two are going to steer me into a taxi. Simon wanted to pick me up, but he might well share the address with Xavier. Men are totally untrustworthy that way.”

“I appreciate it.” Abby said. No, the mention of Xavier’s name had not sent tremors through her body. It
hadn’t
.

“To friends.” Rona raised her glass and clinked it against the other two. “It’s nice to have more women in the lifestyle, and even nicer that you’re a few years past drinking age.”

Abby winced, remembering Nathan’s young “slut.” She should have punched him. Making a hard fist, she nodded. She really should have, even if she’d have hidden under a table when he yelled.

She gulped more wine. As it started to buzz in her head, she remembered she’d skipped lunch. Actually she’d missed quite a few meals, enough that her jeans were loose. Excellent diet—the
Xavier Plan
.