Page 30 of Tormented Dreams

Had he not spent enough time meeting her needs? It was true. He had been unexpectedly busy recently. But what was he supposed to do about that? He was a doctor, and other people needed him too. He really couldn't just turn his back on them.

Or had she straight out misled him? And if so, then why? What had she hoped to gain from stringing him along?

His tone was cool and remote as he asked the question, his face devoid of expression, "So, if the idea was so abhorrent to you, why did you even bother? It seems like all this time you've just been leading me on…for what? That's what I'd like to know."

Grace still said nothing, so Xavier continued.

"Was it just a bit of a lark? Did any of what we shared mean anything to you at all? Because I have to say, it seems pretty juvenile to me. I thought we were past the stage in our lives where we played those kinds of games with people's feelings."

His brow creased into an angry frown that belied the calmness he was striving to exude with only marginal success.

"What the hell am I saying? There is no we. I know damn well that I treat people with a damn sight more respect. Clearly, I was wrong about you!" he spat derisively.

The tiny spurt of anger was short lived, washed away by an overwhelming wave of sadness and fatigue. What was the point in slinging barbs and recriminations? Sometimes, you just had to know when to walk away, no matter how much it hurt.

Xavier took a step back and silenced his tirade, his shoulders drooping in defeat.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The overwhelming degree of guilt she felt put Grace on the defensive. She knew Xavier's anger and disillusionment was justified, but the disappointment that stared back at her from within those dark eyes, the sadness with which they judged her—accurate or not—immediately got her back up.

Sod it! She wanted things too! Okay, so she might not have been quite so honest and upfront about them, but that didn't make them any less real, any less coveted.

She had her own dreams, and she wasn't going to get them by sitting back and hoping they conveniently fell into her lap. She also wasn't going to get them by playing a second fiddle slave to a part time Master. Xavier just wanted all of the pros without any of the inconvenience and upheaval of having another person disturb his comfy little life.

"How dare you say those things to me!" Grace yelled back at him when she finally found her voice again.

A good dose of righteous indignation had pooled in her gut as the guilt crippling her was doused under the deluge of resentment his scathing words had unleashed.

"The bottom line is I am simply not comfortable with being any man's slave," she retorted bluntly, metaphorically throwing her cards on the table. "It goes against every principle I live my life by." She couldn't get any plainer than that.

Xavier frowned as if he were genuinely perplexed, but at least he seemed to be listening… Until his next words lit the fuse on the temper she’d been desperately trying to keep in check, in an effort to avoid flying off the handle and saying something she might regret. The kind of things a couple could never come back from.

"I know you're a human rights lawyer, Grace, but you're intelligent enough to know that a D/s Master/slave relationship is not of the same ilk as those cases you prosecute."

Even his imploring tone didn't calm her ire.

Instead, she planted her feet right in front of his intimidating form and thrust out her hand, palm forward, like she was stopping traffic.

"Stop right there, Xavi!" she shouted, her bitterness evident. "Don't you dare patronise me like that. Idoknow there's a difference, and Idounderstand what those differences are, but knowing that does not, and never will, mean that I want to be a part of such a lifestyle. And that has nothing to do with my profession and everything to do with my personal ideology and the choices I make for myself." Her voice had risen with every word that fell out of her mouth, and now she was on a roll.

"The bottom line is that I don't want to be a slave. I don't want to be in a full-time M/s relationship. I was open minded enough to give it a try, at your insistence. I did that because I felt that we had enough going for us, enough chemistry and strong enough feelings for each other, to make that compromise and try things your way."

Grace made a vain attempt to explain herself, but the frustration she’d been feeling over the past few weeks was rapidly overtaking her good sense, and although she knew she was being slightly unfair, since she'd never had the opportunity to discuss her misgivings with him properly, the spew of venting words wouldn't stop.

"But now that we've given it a go, I'm telling you, without the slightest doubt or hesitation, that it's not for me. I've tried it. I didn't like it. I'm not going to 'grow into it', or 'get used to it'."

She threw his air quotes back at him as she paused from the jerky pacing she had resorted to, to fling the finger motion his way, but never stopped in her tirade.

"In fact, the longer it's gone on, the more it's chafed and the more I've hated it," she hurled at him, no longer bothering to pull her verbal punches.

"Especially since you don't want a slave who lives with you! How can that even work long-term, huh? It's like you want all of the control but only a part of the commitment."

She knew the barb had hit home when she saw him wince, but she carried on regardless.

"Who knows, perhaps it might have worked out if I actually got to spend any time with you, but your ideal is just to dole out orders from the end of a phone or in a text message. Yourdamn slave doesn't even get the satisfaction of being with you to know she's pleased you, and you're not on hand to provide punishment if she doesn't."

The words kept coming, blistering and blaming in their intensity.

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