She didn’t understand exactly how it worked. But Xander’s words hit her on a visceral level. Yes, she’d fought hard to break out of her battered body, leave her mother’s nest, and start a new life. Her mother loved her . . . but she’d known that the woman had carried a terrible burden for her for ten years. It had been time for both of them to move on. What Xander described sounded different.
“The Dom wants this responsibility?”
“Absolutely. If he’s doing everything right, he gets to watch her learn, blossom, and grow. He comes to know her inside and out, help her overcome whatever fears or blocks are preventing her from truly being happy. In turn, she gives back to him by submitting even more of herself. Bonds between Masters and their subs can get exceptionally deep.”
“And you’ve had this experience?” London almost didn’t want to know. It would hurt to hear that he’d taken someone under his wing and cared for her so deeply. But curiosity won out.
“No. I’ve seen it in action, but my knowledge of a total power exchange, the sort that Javier proposed, is theoretical. I don’t have any firsthand experience with a twenty-four/seven relationship. But even that wasn’t my biggest concern. Fran simply wasn’t submissive. If she didn’t give her power to me freely, then I’d just be taking it. And that would make me all kinds of asshole.” He looked at his brother. “Javi, there was just no way I could have saved her.”
Javier didn’t say a word, just glared at his younger brother.
Though her head was spinning with the intriguing possibilities Xander discussed, London stepped in again. “Maybe you couldn’t have saved Fran, Xander, but if she’d believed that someone cared about her, even as just a friend, it might have made a difference.”
“Exactly!” Javier added.
“She was your wife,” Xander pointed out. “You should have cared first.”
London couldn’t argue with Xander’s logic, but Javier’s stricken face made her desperate to move on. “Maybe so, but that’s water under the bridge now. She’s gone. You two are left and you have only one another. I’m not going to watch you tear yourselves apart. Javier, by now you should understand the destruction that happens when you wash your hands of someone who’s meant to be in your life. So either start trying to get along with your brother—because you know I’m right—or I’ll call Luc to come get me.”
Dead silence followed. They both stared at her in stunned silence. Yes, she had a reputation for being sweet as pie, but she had a stubborn streak and temper. She wasn’t afraid to use either when necessary.
“Am I staying or going?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
The brothers looked at one another. They seemed to have some silent communication for a long stretch of seconds.
Finally, Javier nodded. “Stay.”
It sounded mostly like a command, but London heard a bit of a plea in there. She fought down a smile.
“Please, belleza.” Xander didn’t even try to disguise his imploring tone. “We both want you here.”
“Last chance, then,” she warned them. “Behave, you two.”
They both nodded, but silence ensued. The enmity had drained from the room, but it appeared that neither man knew how to break the ice. It was a miracle they hadn’t already thrown down.
“Were you shocked to learn that Francesca was pregnant?” she asked Javier.
Xander jumped in. “You two didn’t always get along, but losing your son or daughter must have been a tough pill to swallow. Why didn’t you tell me? I know you wanted kids.”
Javier sighed, then scrubbed a tired hand across his face. “Today was the first I’d heard of it. I did want kids, but I couldn’t bring myself to get Francesca pregnant intentionally. I wasn’t convinced she was capable of loving someone more than herself. So I was always careful. Nick said the coroner thought she was about four weeks pregnant.” He drew in a deep breath. “I hadn’t touched Fran in at least three months.”
London gasped. The baby hadn’t been his? She stared at him, openmouthed, trying to decide how to respond. With some expression of sympathy? Or outrage on his behalf? He probably didn’t want to talk about it at all.
“That’s terrible.” The words slipped out, but they didn’t feel bad. They definitely weren’t insincere. “And you had no idea that she was pregnant?”
Javier shook his head. “I doubt she did, either.”
“Francesca always acted hormonal and difficult,” Xander added. “Nothing in her behavior would have been a tip-off.”
“You never liked her.” Javier didn’t ask; it was a statement.
“Did you?” Xander countered.
Javier shrugged. “Like London said, it doesn’t matter anymore.” He regarded her. “Whatever you made smells excellent.”
Between his naked chest and his information bombshells, she’d completely forgotten about the food. “Just canned soup and grilled cheese. Do you want it in bed?”
As soon as the words were out, London flushed. That sounded far more sexual then she intended. A little smile toyed at Javier’s full lips.
Xander gave an annoyed huff. “Put some clothes on, Javi. I’ll go out to the car and retrieve London’s bag and the stuff she grabbed from your office on the way over.”
That was a relief. It would save her a trip. And it would give her a few moments alone with her boss.
She turned to find him disappearing back into the bathroom. The light to the closet flipped on, and he returned a minute later wearing a dark charcoal gray pair of sweatpants—and nothing else. The pants fit too well to not see the outline of his firm, narrow hips and lean backside without any trace of underwear.
Both brothers were put together so well, and each made her feel something different. To her, Javier represented security, protection. Reassurance. But he taught her, too. In a fraction of a day, he’d contributed to her professional growth. Her family had merely wanted to coddle her to the point of smothering, but Javier wanted her to blossom and succeed. And Xander . . . he made her hot, reckless. When she was with him, she wanted the clothes to come off and for him to leap on and show her all the joys of being female. London remembered having boyfriends before the accident, and several had made her fifteen-year-old heart swoon. None had made her long to press every inch of her body against his and plead for his touch. The idea of turning her body and her will over to either one of them made her tingle and ache in some really interesting places.
Javier made his way to the bed, and London followed, grabbing the tray from the dresser and bringing it to him. “If it’s gotten cold, I’ll make you something else.”