My Liege of Dark Haven

by Cherise Sinclair

  Loosening the reins slightly, he rocked the horse into an easy canter over the rolling grasslands. His freed hair whipped over his shoulders, dispelling the memories for a moment. At one time he and Catherine had visited every weekend to enjoy being out of the city—and to visit her rescued mustangs.

  He smiled slightly. Abby had the same nurturing spirit.

  At the highest point on the ranch, he dismounted and stood on the bluff, watching the distant ocean. This had been their spot. Catherine had called it her place to settle and get her head on straight.

  She’d died down there at the ranch house.

  Up here was where he’d buried her ashes.

  “Well, Catherine.” Over the years he’d felt her presence here. Perhaps his imagination, perhaps not.

  Last night, when Abby had said she loved him, he’d realized he still hadn’t resolved his feelings for Catherine. He wasn’t able to offer all of himself, and that wasn’t fair to Abby.

  With a sigh, he settled beside Catherine’s stone marker. BELOVED WIFE.

  “You were that,” he said. “My beloved slave and beloved partner as well.” He leaned against the tree that sheltered her. “You died so quickly. I never got a chance to tell you good-bye.”

  She’d driven up to see a new foal, staying by herself in the ranch house. The two ranch hands had found her the next morning, already gone. The doctors insisted her death happened quickly—a ruptured aortic aneurysm. Nothing would have saved her.

  The reasons didn’t matter. He should have been there for her.

  “I came to say good-bye, Cat.” He traced a circle in the dirt. “I’m ready—and I know you’re saying, About time. Abby’s a lovely woman with as big a heart as yours.”

  A red-tailed hawk circled overhead. Far below, gulls dived at the water.

  He hadn’t thought he’d ever arrive at a time when he wanted to open his heart again. Yet here he was. His chest ached as if the horse had kicked him.

  “I’ll always love you, little slave. I didn’t think I could care for someone else as deeply, but she’s taken hold.” He pulled in a breath and admitted it to himself. To the world. “I really do love her.”

  The words struck him, ran through him, shocked him. So he said them again. “I love her. Abigail Bern.” He gazed out at the land rolling down to the ocean. Somehow he’d found a trail he hadn’t anticipated.

  Yet life wasn’t a nice flat plain, as he’d believed in his youth, but hills and valleys, corners and switchbacks and cliffs. “Wish me well, Cat.”

  * * * *

  On Friday night, taking a moment from the party, Abby checked herself in the bathroom mirror. Not too shabby. Her new gown was a light lavender. The halter top style was perfect for her breasts, and the fuller skirt slenderized her hips. She’d pulled the sides of her hair back in tiny French braids to show off her silver earrings.

  No necklace, though. She traced a curve over the hollow of her neck. How would it feel to have a silver choker? One like Rona wore?

  That wasn’t going to happen, was it? Why had she blurted her feelings out? The memory of Xavier’s reaction darkened her mood like the atmosphere before a storm. She glowered at herself in the mirror. If he didn’t want to hear about emotions, then why did he keep hammering at her to express them?

  What did she get in return? Politeness. I love him, and he wants to think about it.

  Plastering a smile on her face, she walked into the crowded living room filled with Harold’s business associates, Mom’s friends, people from the charities they supported, neighbors, and older friends.

  Her mother spotted her. “Your idea to put twinkling lights in the trees was brilliant. It’s so romantic out there that people are dancing already.”

  “The band sounds great.” Every anniversary, Harold gave a party to celebrate “finding the most wonderful woman in the world.” Over time the number of guests had tripled, but the feeling of love never changed.

  “I’m glad you came, dear.” Her mom hesitated. “Is there anything wrong?”

  “Nope. Happy anniversary, Mom.” Abby gave her a quick hug and released her as more people entered the room. The hum of conversation increased.

  After checking the bathrooms and living rooms for messes, Abby wandered out to the wide patio and smiled. The lights might be romantic, but Mom and Harold were even more so, waltzing to Anne Murray’s “Can I Have this Dance?”

  Swaying to the music, Abby sighed. She’d never danced with Xavier. She had a feeling she never would. Why had she ever opened her mouth?

  “They look good together, don’t they?” Grace stopped behind her, grinning when her father gave a hearty laugh and kissed their mother right on the lips.

  “Makes you believe in love, doesn’t it?” Abby asked lightly. The ocean breeze whispered over her bare arms. Thank goodness she hadn’t invited Xavier to the party. It would have been horrible to see him so distant. To know the “talk” was coming.

  “A couple of the guys asked about you, by the way,” Grace said. She nodded toward a man with a goatee.

  Abby looked. His hair was receding, but when he met her gaze, his eyes were sharp and intelligent.

  “The other one works in Dad’s company. Dad called him brilliant, and I figured you might like him.” Grace grinned. “I know you prefer smart men—and he’s cute—and he asked what your name is.”

  Abby gave her a wry smile. “That’s only because Janae hasn’t arrived.”

  “Oh.” Grace’s face hardened. “I hope she doesn’t come.”

  Uh-oh. Abby squeezed Grace’s hand. “Is she still trying for Matthew?”

  “He avoids her.” Grace blinked back tears. “I’m glad she doesn’t live here. She used to ignore me, but now she smiles and cuts me to pieces.”

  Abby took a slow breath. “I think…” She hesitated, then went ahead. “I think it’s because you’re a woman now and getting more beautiful by the day. All of a sudden you’re competition.”

  “Get real.” Grace sputtered a laugh. “Like I’m anything like—”

  “Remember Snow White? When the mirror told the stepmother that she was no longer the ‘fairest in the land,’ she tried to kill Snow White.”

  “So my half sister’s trying to slaughter me with insults.” Grace snorted. “She can try.”

  Abby’s worry eased. Nothing kept Grace down for long.

  “Is that why she’s nasty to you? You’re competition?” Grace said. “But—”

  But Abby wasn’t any challenge when it came to men. “She was an only child. Before me.” Abby tilted her head toward Harold. “She got used to being the center of attention, and that’s what she has to be. With Harold, in classrooms, with men.”

  “So it’s not personal, huh? Hey, it’s wicked cool to think I’m competition.” She tapped Abby’s knuckles with hers and headed off toward her teenage friends. Her shoulders were back and her hips swinging with a new assurance.

  Abby caught her mother’s glance and smiled. Thanks, Mom. Although you stuck me with a bitch of a stepsister, this one makes it all worthwhile.

  Her mom smiled back.

  Half an hour later Abby had turned down dates from the two men—although she seriously considered getting their numbers. What would Xavier do if she informed him he had to wear a condom again because she’d indulged herself with another man?

  He might say they weren’t committed, but she had a feeling he’d be upset.

  Unfortunately she didn’t want anyone else. Dutifully she did another check of the rooms, swung by the kitchen to remind them to take drinks to the tiny band, then returned to the patio. She took a seat at a linen-covered table with a sigh of relief. Her feet were killing her. Why didn’t men have to suffer the torture of high heels?

  Harold’s laugh boomed out as he and her mother chatted with the neighbors. The younger business associates had settled by the food, arguing about capital gains taxes. Having talked the band into something livelier, the teen set was dancing. At a nearby table,
some women discussed day-care issues. The party was rolling along well.

  And she missed Xavier with an ache that continued to grow.

  In fact, she swore she heard his voice. Nice imagination you have, Abby. But… She tilted her head. That was his laugh, deep and resonant, coming from inside the house. Had Mom invited him after all?

  Had he come to be with her? The surge of joy was almost frightening. Smiling, she started toward the patio door.

  Janae stepped out. Her dark-red dress must have been sprayed on, and set off full breasts she hadn’t possessed a few years ago.

  When Xavier followed her out, Janae turned and snuggled against him.

  Abby’s breath caught in her throat.

  Xavier said something, and Janae looked up at him with the same slow smile she’d used to conquer man after man. He laughed and walked with her across the patio.

  He hadn’t even seen Abby. Hadn’t looked for her.

  Abby couldn’t move. The pain was too much, spilling out onto the ground, and every beat of her mangled heart added to the pool. He didn’t come here for me. Janae had taken him away, just as she had every other man Abby had liked.

  Even worse, they looked so comfortable together that Abby knew Xavier had been dating her. And fucking me. She blinked back tears until Janae flicked a glance over, and the gloating showed in her eyes.

  Icy armor slid over Abby’s skin, settling in place as if it had never gone away. As if she’d never left herself open to being wounded. But the defense arrived too late. The pain was already lodged deep in her chest, pounding from inside against the barrier.

  They would never, ever know how much they’d hurt her. She pulled in a breath and forced her hands to unclench.

  Janae reached up to plant a kiss on Xavier’s lips and then walked with him over to her parents. With a shocked expression, her mother looked at Abby.

  I’m going to be sick.

  As Harold shook hands with Xavier, Janae sauntered over to Abby. “Did you see my eye candy?” Janae’s laugh was so loud and false that several people turned to look.

  “Yes.” Insult after insult rose to the surface of her mind, and she pushed them down. Don’t start a fight. Be cold. Be ice. Abby took a step back.

  Janae grabbed her arm. “You gonna run? Go hide?”

  “I’m not interested in talking with you.” Abby tried to pull her arm away.

  “Oh, did fat nerd-girl get her feelings hurt? Did you actually think he might be interested in you?” Another laugh. “Nathan—yes, your oh-so-kinky Nathan—told me Xavier’s habits are common knowledge. He keeps several women: a smart one for business. A gorgeous one to date. And a slave to fuck… Oh, that would be you.”

  Nathan? Janae had sex with Nathan too? But the blow had little impact under the avalanche of pain.

  Dixon had warned her Xavier wouldn’t be serious. She hadn’t listened. She’d lied to herself. She’d been a moron. But seeing him with Janae was intolerable.

  She yanked her arm away, and Janae’s long fingernails tore her skin. Turning, she ran into something immovable. Hard. Xavier.

  TRYING TO UNDERSTAND what he’d heard, Xavier caught his little sub as she stumbled.

  When she looked up at him, her pale skin was the white of snow and her gray eyes frozen. She took a step back, shoving his hand away. “Don’t. Touch. Me.” Her smooth voice held no expression, no heat. She’d retreated from him before, but never like this.

  “Abby,” he said. “This isn’t—”

  “Red, Xavier. Red, red, red.” The cold mask of her face never changed as she used the safe word that ended a scene.

  She turned and ran, and he could almost hear the ice shattering.

  “Abby!”

  Janae grabbed Xavier’s arm, holding him back. “You’re with me, remember?” Her smile grew.

  Xavier stared down, seeing the vindictiveness in her eyes. “You’re her stepsister, aren’t you? And you set this up to hurt Abby. With her soft heart, I doubt she’s ever done anything to you.”

  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.