Continental Life

Sixteen

In spite of her resolve, inexorably, Bella's mind kept returning to Xander's admission. His mellow voice drifted all around her as he weaved in and out of the students while speaking about the importance of written contracts and being consistent in following through with the Head of Household's plan of action.

His admission of having been engaged to LB had an emotional resonance that lingered, and she was finding it difficult to concentrate. There had been no spanking after leaving 4P, but she almost wished there had been to take her mind off of the dreadfulness of Xander's disclosure.

She hadn't even given him her letter of confession and all the notes she'd written during her heartfelt daze. They were all still folded in her purse, unread and unacknowledged. With everything that had happened since writing them, she hadn't found the right moment to hand them over to him.

Standing next to her, the heat from Xander's body and his scent cascaded over her. He was absolutely exquisite in his Victorian-era uniform. There was no other word for it. He had a body built for action and an inborn strength to act on his wants and desires. His voice and wisdom had always infused her with new hope, but not this day.

He had left her at the curb of her suite without answering her unspoken question. Why hadn't he told her? He gave no explanation. No reason. All he left her with was less than ten words to deliberate on.

"It was wrong of me not to tell you."

It didn't make any sense. What was the purpose of keeping that kind of information from her? His omission made her wonder what else he was holding back and what his real reason was for not setting a wedding date. She hated the doubt about her lover now infiltrating her thoughts, but there was no way around it. Still, she refused to believe that Svetlana was right about him. For the sake of her mental well-being and all that was good between her and Xander, Svetlana had to be wrong.

***

The hour-and-a-half-long class seemed to drag on. She was only a few feet away from Xander, but she had never felt more distance between them than at that moment.

As she answered the questions to the quiz, she could feel Xander's eyes on her, demanding her to meet his gaze. Unable to resist his draw, she lifted her face only to become entranced by the glimmer of his malachite irises. She blinked and inhaled slowly as her mind raced. What she wouldn't give to know what he was thinking about. Always the professional, his stoic countenance revealed nothing, making her wonder if he cared that he'd hurt her by not telling her about his engagement to Svetlana. Didn't he trust her enough to know that it made no difference to her? She loved him regardless of who he had past affairs with.

His eyes never deviated from hers, and his authoritative aura washed over her. Color and heat stained her cheeks. Her heart was aching, and still, she couldn't deny the effect he had on her or the way her body answered to him. Maybe it was a conditioned response. Maybe, but she refused to accept that. What she felt for him was more than that. She loved him.

Forcing herself to look away, she focused her attention on the piece of paper in front of her. Consistency ... rules ... discipline ... did any of it really matter if she couldn't trust Xander to be truthful and forthcoming with her?

Dalberg's lecture was even less interesting than Hutchens' had been, and it seemed as if all the instructors had gotten together and plotted out their dull evening as some sort of passive-aggressive form of punishment. The only highlight of the night was seeing Jules back in her seat and her confidence and exuberance restored.

Just before Dalberg's session, she slipped back into Xander's classroom and placed the letter and notes on his desk. There was no point in holding on to them, no matter what the circumstances were. The secrets contained on the parchment belonged to Xander, and they would do her no good if she kept them to herself.