Elle almost laughed. If she’d had the energy, she would have.

“Don’t ask, Daniel,” she said as she walked past him into the house. “Just don’t ask.”

4

DANIEL GAVE HER tea and put her in the downstairs guest room. The entire time she was in his presence she stared at the gold band on his left hand.

“Where are Anya and the baby?” Elle asked. She hadn’t seen either when Daniel brought her into the house.

“Upstairs in the nursery. Marius has the flu. We’re taking shifts. She’s on the day shift. I take the night shift so she can sleep.” He smiled and she saw the contentment on his handsome face.

“God, you’re so married.”

“I am. Again,” he said and smiled.

“Enjoying it? Being married again? Being a dad?” Elle asked as she pulled the blanket to her stomach.

“You show up on my doorstep with no warning and nothing but a bag and the clothes on your back and you want to talk about me right now?” Daniel pulled a chair up to the bed. It was barely two o’clock in the afternoon, but Daniel had seen right away that all she needed right now was rest. “Eleanor, please—”

“Elle,” she said.

“What?”

“I told him the day I met him that I went by Elle. Not Eleanor. My whole life my mom called me Elle or Ellie. That’s who I am. But he called me Eleanor anyway. He calls me Eleanor. I prefer Elle.”

Daniel looked at her, rubbed his hands together.

“Elle,” he said. “Please tell me what’s happening. Can you do that for me?”

“You don’t want to know.” She tried to smile. She hoped he appreciated the effort that took her.

Daniel met her eyes, and she held the gaze. Back when he was a regular player in Kingsley’s world, his blue-eyed Dominant glare was the stuff of legend. His late wife, Maggie, had even named it—The Ouch, she called it with equal parts fear and affection. When he gave her that look she knew she’d be saying “ouch” the next day, maybe the next week. But it wasn’t the infamous Ouch he gave her now. Instead, he looked at her steadily with curiosity and compassion. And pity.

She hated pity.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I needed to get away for a few days.”

“You didn’t come here because you needed to get away for a few days. You go to the Hamptons to get away for a few days.”

“You go to the Hamptons to get away for a few days because you’re rich. Normal people do not go to the Hamptons.”

“Elle.” Daniel met her eyes. “You’re the most famous submissive in the entire city of New York. You’re owned by a Catholic priest, and you’re sleeping with the King of the Underground. You are not normal people.”

“I am now,” she said. “Trying to be anyway.”

“How did you get here?”

“Kingsley’s driver dropped me off.”

“Kingsley drives a beat-up Ford Thunderbird now?”

If she had had the strength to give Daniel The Ouch, she would have.

“I have security cameras,” he said. “I saw someone drop you off. It wasn’t King.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Does King know where you are?”

She shook her head.

“Tell me what happened.”

“You don’t want to know,” she repeated. “Just don’t tell anyone I’m here, okay?”

“I think I do want to know. Remember, I’ve known Søren for years. Not only do I know him, I like him. We’re friends. If I can know him and still like him, I think I can handle anything you tell me.”

“Maybe you can handle hearing it. I don’t know if I can handle saying it.”

Daniel moved from his chair to the bed. She tensed immediately and he seemed to sense it.

“I’m not going to touch you if you don’t want me to,” he said, raising his hands in surrender.

“You’re married, you have a kid and I’m—” she paused to find a suitable lie and decided on a half-truth instead “—not feeling well.”

He reached his hand out but didn’t touch her with it, only waited. Slowly Elle leaned forward the three necessary inches and rested her face against the palm of his hand.

“You don’t have a fever,” he said.

“No.”

“I don’t see any bruises on your arms or your neck.”

“Søren didn’t beat me up or rape me,” she said, annoyed that he would even think something like that had happened.

Daniel nodded.

“But he did hurt you.”

“You didn’t put a question mark at the end of that sentence.”

“I told you, I’ve known him for years. It wasn’t a question.”

“Yes,” she admitted finally, closing her eyes. “He hurt me.”

“Kingsley?”

She shook her head. “This isn’t his fault,” she said, rolling over onto her side. “This is my fault.”

“I refuse to believe that,” Daniel said. “But you have to give me something here. If Anya left me, ran away, I would be so sick with worry I wouldn’t be able to breathe. Søren pisses me off too sometimes, and I consider him a friend, but I have never doubted his love for you. Unless you have a very good reason to scare him like this, you need to go home.”