Cherise Sinclair - My Liege of Dark Haven

Color rolled into her cheeks. “I’ve been called pretty.” A hint of pain crossed her face. “My stepsister is…gorgeous…and she could take a man away from me with a snap of her fingers.”

And obviously had. Life wasn’t always fair. “If that was her typical behavior, I daresay she lost them as quickly.”

She gave a husky chuckle. “I guess she did.”

“You delight me, Abby.” Xavier curled his fingers over her nape and drew her down. He kissed her gently. Her instant response never failed to please him.

When he released her, she pushed back up to stare at him. Her fluffy hair fell over her cheeks.

“Last concern, you think we’re not alike at all.” A kiss. “If you’re a nerd, and I’m the opposite, does that mean you believe I’m stupid?”

She inhaled sharply, spotting the insult. He let her see the disapproval in his eyes.

“No. Of course not. That’s not what I meant.”

“We’re both smart, then?” he asked. She was trapped. Why men needed to hunt the forests, he’d never understood. Not when there was so much better sport at home.

“Yes.”

“Mmmmh.” He touched her chin. “If I told you I came from a redneck working family, would you tell me I wasn’t good enough for you? Because your family has more money?”

“No. That isn’t it.”

Tenderhearted little fluff. “Then I lack any understanding of your last point.”

She glared at him. “You’re definitely not stupid.”

He grinned and set his hand back on her neck. “Now it’s my turn, isn’t it?”

He felt her pulse pick up. “Yes, I believe so.”

“Hmm. One, I like you, Abigail. I like your intelligence, your laugh, your willingness to care for puppies and grumpy Doms, your wayward hair, and the way your mind works.”

Her eyes were wide now as she drank in his words like a plant at the end of a drought.

“Two, as a Dom I look for a certain personality in a submissive.” He ran his finger over her lower lip, feeling the tiny quiver, so quickly controlled. “You love to help, to make people—and puppies—happy. But you don’t surrender to every man walking in the door. Not even Nathan.” He smiled at her. “It seems you’ve reserved your submission for me, and I value that.

“Three, you enjoy a fair amount of erotic pain, but you’re not a masochist. You don’t have any hard limits that would bother me, and as far as I’ve found, you don’t want something I can’t provide.”

Her eyes kept getting wider.

“Four, I liked having you in my home today, even though I’m not at my best. I’d like you to be here longer, so I can treat you”—he tugged her nipple firmly enough that her back arched and her eyes dilated—“a bit rougher.”

He pulled her down for a long, wet kiss. “I can’t think of a number five. Do you have anything you want to counter with?”

“I… No.”

“Then we’ll simply see how it goes. Stay here with me, Abby.”

“As a slave?”

“No, little fluff. As a sexual submissive.” He grinned when a shiver ran through her. “Your life is your own.” He rubbed his knuckles over her smooth cheek. “I just get to rule it now and then.” He waited.

“I’ll stay. My liege.”

“Excellent. Go clean up. Then come back here.”

She shook her head. “It’s not a good idea. I might bump your leg.”

“You’ll sleep with me.” He pointed at the bathroom. “There are spare toothbrushes and such in the drawers.”

As she slid off the bed, he studied her face. The worry was gone, leaving peace behind. She wanted his control as much as he wanted to exert it. And although terrified of altercations, she’d dared his displeasure for his own good. She was a bundle of contradictions, wasn’t she?

She returned, face pink from scrubbing.

“Clothes off.”

Her fingers shook as she removed her shirt. After setting her glasses on the bedside table, she flipped the light switch to put the room in darkness before stripping the rest of the way.

“Did you acquire something I haven’t seen before?”

“That’s not the point. Can I sleep in one of your T-shirts?”

“No, you may not.” No submissive wore clothes in his bed.

With a grumbling mutter, she carefully crawled in beside him. Ignoring her attempt to keep a distance, he pulled her closer. His immobility made him want to curse—moving her would have been easier with two arms.

Her body stayed stiff and motionless for a minute, and then she relaxed with a disgruntled sound. “Are you really all right?”

“Sore and irritated, but tomorrow will be better.” He tightened his arm around her. “Thank you for your care, Abby.”

She rubbed her cheek on his shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

He thought about something and sighed. “I assume I’m getting five puppies as interim boarders?”

Her laugh lifted his heart.

Yes, it felt right to have her snuggled close as the quiet of the night surrounded them.

Trying not to gawk, Abby stopped at the lobby desk in the building where Xavier’s office was located.

Phone to her ear, the receptionist smiled and held up a finger to wait.

Not a problem. Abby turned in a circle to admire the two-story foyer. Rather than a typical ultrasleek modern design, the lobby had long planters of foliage taking advantage of the light streaming in from the all-glass front. The massive desk was a beautiful curve of dark wood that matched that of the inner balcony railing above. The fragrance of pastries and coffee came from an espresso shop to one side.

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked, setting down the phone.

“I’m here to see Xavier Leduc. Could you tell me what office he’s in?”

“Do you have an appointment?” The older woman wore a dark-red suit, her hair and makeup impeccable.

“No. Not exactly.”

The woman frowned at Abby’s jeans and green hoodie. “Miss, if you want to fill out a job application, then you need office one hundred, right over there.” She pointed to a glass-fronted office across the wide foyer. “Just go inside, and someone will help you.”

“Thank you, but I’m not looking for a job. I’m picking Xavier up.”

Short and squat, the woman reminded Abby of a bulldog. Fully as stubborn too. “Mr. Leduc doesn’t—”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to cause problems for you. But he is expecting me. Please just let him know that Abigail is here.”

Her stubbornness won out. “Of course, miss. If you’ll wait over there, I’ll ring his admin.”

As Abby took a well-cushioned chair in a beautifully appointed waiting area, she frowned. Why would the owner of a BDSM club need an admin? Or an office in this fancy building for that matter. Then again, considering his home, the club must be making some pretty good money. Or maybe he had another business as well?

Honestly, though, he could have left word so she didn’t have to fight off territorial bulldogs.

As she picked up a magazine, she glanced at the reception desk. The woman had summoned a security guard. For heaven’s sake.

“She says she’s picking up Mr. Leduc,” Ms. Bulldog said in a low tone.

Abby looked down before the guard turned. He made a laughing sound. “She’s sure nothing like his usual lady friends.”

“Exactly. I’m calling Mrs. Benton now. Can you show her out when his admin tells me she’s never heard of her?” Clicking sounds. “Yes, Mrs. Benton, I have an Abigail here saying she’s supposed to pick up Mr.— Excuse me? Send her up if she wouldn’t mind?” The bulldog actually sputtered.

Abby smothered a grin. Okay, Xavier, you’re forgiven all the nasty thoughts.

“Miss?”

She looked up. The security guard smiled politely. Respectfully. “I’ll escort you up.”

The guard used a locked elevator at the end of the elevator banks. When he punched the highest button, Abby’s stomach roiled like she’d chugged a soda.

She swallowed. “Does this building have a name? I didn’t see a sign.”

“Nah. Something smashed it in the last storm, and the new one isn’t finished yet. Leduc Industries, it’s called.”

“The whole building?” Oh, this isn’t good. Whether it felt like stalking or not, she should have googled the man. She felt like thumping her head against the elevator door. “How many Leducs are there?”

The door slid open silently, and the guard stepped out with her. The creamy carpet was thick enough to drown in, and the statuary looked much like what was in Xavier’s home.

“How many?” He gave her a startled look “Just the one.”

Abby closed her eyes and pulled in a breath. Don’t be a moron—Xavier is the same man. He hadn’t changed because she learned he had a bit more money than a club owner did. A whole lot more money. Don’t get all weird. Even as she told herself that, she wished she’d worn something nicer than jeans, running shoes, and a hooded sweatshirt.

“You must be Dr. Bern.” The brunette woman rose from behind the desk. Her brown eyes were surprisingly welcoming. “I’m Mrs. Benton, Mr. Leduc’s administrative assistant. Let me show you the way.”

But it wasn’t necessary. An office door opened, and Xavier wheeled himself out. Or tried to. The plush carpet wasn’t wheelchair friendly, especially when he couldn’t use both arms. He smiled a welcome, but the muscles of his face were tight, his cheekbones stark, and his color almost gray. “Abby, I’m—”

“You didn’t take any pain meds, did you? Or use ice packs.” She glared. “Or let anyone help you.”

He looked taken aback for a second, then burst into laughter. The admin and guard seemed appalled.

“Abby, you are a wonder.” He held his hand out. As his fingers closed around hers, she realized she’d automatically crossed the room. The man could command her without a word.

“And you’re too stubborn for words,” she said under her breath. She turned. “Mrs. Benton, could you get him a glass of water?”

“Of course.” The woman studied Abby. “You mentioned ice packs. I can contrive one of sorts, if you’d like?”

No wonder Xavier had her. “Two, if you could? That would be wonderful.”

After giving Xavier a deferential nod, the guard popped back into the elevator.

As Abby searched her purse for ibuprofen, Xavier chuckled. “You, little fluff, are fully as stubborn as I am. If you don’t mind waiting for about ten minutes, I have one last call to finish.”

“No problem.”

“You can come in with me or wait out here, wherever you’re more comfortable.”

Wait in the reception area? Not a chance. When he tried to turn his wheelchair, she gave a snort of exasperation and pushed him back into his office.

“Nice place you have.” From the waist up, two whole walls were glass, opening to a spectacular view of the city. His desk was gleaming walnut with matching chairs in front. A dark leather couch and chairs sat off to one side. She approved of the huge painting of a French café. She’d had a glass of wine there last time she’d been in Paris.

“Thank you.” He smiled at her. “Did you get the pups settled in?”

“Moved and fed and sleeping.” Since his office chair had been pushed into a corner, Abby maneuvered Xavier behind his desk. With a frown of concern, she raised the foot part of the wheelchair to elevate his leg. “Your ankle is swollen again.”

“Is it?” Laughter in his eyes, he ran a finger over her scowling lips.

“It’s not funny, you—”

“Maybe these will help.” Mrs. Benton handed Xavier the water. Abby received two plastic bags filled with ice.

“Thank you very much.” Abby gave the admin a smile and Xavier another frown. After positioning the packs, she retreated to the couch while Xavier took his pills and made his phone call.

A minute later Mrs. Benton brought a pile of magazines and a tray with a cup and tiny pot of tea, sugar, and lemon slices. “When the receptionist downstairs called up, Mr. Leduc mentioned you enjoy tea with lemon.”

He’d not only thought about her comfort, but remembered what she liked. The knowledge made her feel fuzzy and warm.

Then again, considering he knew her so well, how badly would that come back to bite her at the club? Her insides clenched as she remembered the plan for Friday—punishment at Dark Haven.

No point in imagining herself into hysterics, though. She picked up a magazine, leafed through the pages, and eavesdropped on his conversation.

He was trying to get a woman into some kind of a job, but her reading skills weren’t up to the employer’s qualifications. In fact, the woman sounded functionally illiterate.