Gathering up her trash, Regina stood. “Listen, I’m flattered that you’re attracted to me—” she whispered harshly.
“Attracted to you,” he half laughed, interrupting her. “I wish I was just attracted to you. I want to tie you up so you can’t get away and taste every inch of you.”
He spoke softly, lowly, but Regina felt every word in her core. Tie her up so she couldn’t get away . . . She should have found the idea offensive, disturbing, but instead a delicious heat spread through her, making her shiver.
She swallowed and straightened, clutching the trash in her hand a little too tightly. “Do you always suggest tying up women you just met?”
He grinned again. “You’re the first.”
“Lucky me.” She’d meant that sarcastically, but it didn’t quite come out that way.
He leaned forward. “Go on a bike ride with me this weekend. We can take the Minuteman Bikeway.”
The Minuteman Bikeway was an expert path that ran along an inactive railroad and basically followed the ride of Paul Revere. “It’ll be covered in snow.”
“No, it won’t.”
He looked so pleased with himself that Regina couldn’t help but smile a little. “You’re going to have someone plow a little-used bikeway in the middle of winter just to take a ride with me?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
This man was dangerous. He was sitting there, practically vibrating with eagerness, blue eyes gleaming at her from behind the fake lenses. Standing, Regina shook her head. “I can’t, Mr. Shaw. I just can’t. Thank you for the gloves, but I’m not going out with you.”
She left, a strange reluctance dragging at her ankles, and she wished she didn’t feel like she was running away.
THAT AFTERNOON, Milton walked beside three hospital administrators, one woman and two men, only half his attention on their faintly obsequious comments as they strolled down the hallway decorated with bright yellow sunflowers. He was technically there representing Accendo and the new software they’d help develop for the hospital, but he’d also discussed his plan to host a magic show and benefit for the children, and so far their comments had been decidedly enthusiastic. The hospital’s chief operating officer, Dr. Bill Jensen, a tall black man with a distracted air about him, kept repeating, “I think the kids will just love that, not to mention the doctors.”
“I just want to say again that it was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shaw,” said the CEO, Miranda something, a sharp-faced woman with hard eyes.
Milton nodded, still not really listening, as two nurses walked toward them wearing pink scrubs and cheerful smiles. As the two women drew closer, their eyes widened at the four people in expensive suits, lingering on Milton. He noticed them, even recognized one of them, but he didn’t think she knew him. He looked away just in case. His weekly visits to this hospital had always been his secret, but he didn’t think he would be able to keep it long, not if he was hosting a public benefit.
This was why he usually let Roland handle the public face of the company—so that Milton could continue to visit in relative anonymity. Right now only the head nurse, Jackie, knew his real identity. Everyone else knew him as “Shaw the Magician.” Jackie had cleared the way for him to perform at the hospital without revealing his name to everyone. He’d known her since he was kid, since he’d come to the hospital with his family.
“Thank you,” Milton replied. “I’m glad you’re happy with the implementation of the software so far, and that you support the idea of a benefit.”
Milton knew he sounded stiff and awkward and couldn’t bring himself to care. His fingers twitched against the dark brown wool of his coat. He’d considered changing into a suit—it’s what they expected, but had decided not to bother. He’d hung around with a couple of the kids until the meeting and then strolled over to the administrative offices. They had no idea that he was very familiar with the place and didn’t require a tour.
As they passed by enormous glass windows, he glanced to his left into the patient entertainment room. That was where he’d met Regina for the first time, and that was where he hoped to see her again tomorrow, on the stage. He wished she’d just give him a chance.
And then, as if he’d conjured her, she was there, walking down the hall with her head bent to look at a chart, her dark hair pulled neatly into a bun at the nape of her neck. Dr. Regina Burke, the sexiest woman he’d ever seen wearing scrubs. The sexiest woman he’d ever seen . . . period, and he wasn’t exaggerating.
“Dr. Burke,” the administrator to his left—the CFO, a paunchy man with an underbite—called out to her. “I’d like you to meet one of our most generous benefactors.” The man sounded a little too eager to talk to her, his voice rising an octave.
She glanced up and met Milton’s gaze. He felt like he had the time he’d tried that trick with the electric eels, as though every cell in his body were dancing in place, eager to do something. How could she deny a connection like that? Frustration and mild irritation flashed briefly over her face as they drew nearer. He liked that she didn’t hide her thoughts. Most people—not some of the developers he worked with, but most people—tried to maintain a polite, socially acceptable mask. He wasn’t able to—had never been able to, but he’d bet that she knew how and didn’t bother.
He started to say something and found himself caught by a killing look from her dark, almond-shaped eyes. She had a pert little nose and lushly curved lips that looked as if a sculptor had carved them. If that mouth made her look vulnerable, or the small gap between her teeth charming, then the scar on her lip and her flat stare disabused anyone of the notion that she was weak or out to charm.
The mere sight of her made him want to smile.
She lowered the clipboard to her side and waited for them to reach her. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes narrowed on Milton as they approached. A small line appeared between her brows, and he tensed.
“Dr. Burke, this is Milton Shaw. He and his business partners have been very generous to the hospital over the years.”
Regina Burke looked less than impressed, and the small frown remained between her eyes. “Yes, I’ve met Mr. Shaw.” She held out a hand for him to shake. “Thank you for all you’ve done for the hospital.”
She’d thanked him for the gifts earlier, and she was thanking him now . . . almost as impersonally. But she was fair. However she felt about him as a person, she gave credit where credit was due. Her tone was grudging, but seemed sincere. She shook his hand firmly but released it immediately, as if she didn’t want to touch him any more than necessary. It didn’t matter; he still wanted to drag her to his limo and this time actually sink himself inside that lush little body.
“You’re welcome,” he replied quietly, after a brief pause to gather his thoughts. He’d almost said, “Fuck, I want you.” The words had been there, on the tip of his tongue, ready to tumble out. It had taken years . . . years . . . to learn how to not say every word in his head, at least not where it would elicit stares. He didn’t mind letting his thoughts tumble out around her, but he had to rein it in around the hospital staff.
His tone must have sounded strange or wrong somehow, anyway, because she gave him a warning look.
“Mr. Shaw has requested that you help him with a benefit he’s hosting for the hospital, Dr. Burke,” the CFO said with a kind of questioning lilt at the end, as if he was asking her why she was singled out.
“Did he?” she said, and if possible her gaze narrowed further. “Well, I’m sure Mr. Shaw can find someone to take my place. As you all know, I’m very busy. If you’ll excuse me . . .”
She brushed by them before they could respond, and Milton turned around to watch her walk away. The view was the only upside to her march away from him.
The CEO, flustered by her comment, rushed to reassure Milton. “I’m sorry about that, Mr. Shaw. I’ll speak to her, of course. The benef
it will help the hospital—and the children—enormously. She can’t be thinking clearly.”
Milton thought she was probably thinking clearly enough. She just didn’t like being manipulated. He’d intended to talk to her about the benefit at lunch earlier, when he’d caught her in the café, but he’d gotten distracted again and now she was pissed. Milton felt his lips twitching again. She was kind of ferocious. Like a gorgeous bird of prey.
“No, it’s all right,” Milton said into the awkward silence. I want her to come home with me. When they just stared at him, astonished, he froze, thinking he’d voiced those thoughts aloud, but then he realized he was grinning broadly and rubbing his fingers together as if he were about to perform a trick. He took a deep breath and eased himself back down. Shit. Get out. Get out now.
“She was the top of her class at Harvard Medical School—a brilliant doctor, if a bit . . . touchy at times. Of course, she’s had quite a lot to overcome,” Miranda spoke, perhaps trying to make up for Regina’s lack of interest.
Milton looked at the CEO, and she blinked, easing slightly away from him. “Overcome what?”
“Oh—” The woman snapped her mouth shut. “I simply meant . . .” she trailed off.
“Dr. Burke’s father was Carter Burke,” Dr. Jensen explained, which Milton already knew, but he hadn’t considered that it caused her trouble at work, even now, so many years after the man had disappeared. He wondered how far his friend Burris had gotten tracking the bastard down. He hadn’t found him yet, or Milton would have heard something.
“I think she’s wonderful,” he said meaningfully, and the three people in front of him nodded automatically, like they were agreeing with a crazy person.
Milton realized he was glaring and took a deep breath. “I have to go,” he said abruptly. “Thank you for your time. I’ll be in touch regarding the plans.”
He left without waiting for a response, striding swiftly down the hall past the reception area and out the double doors. He took a deep, deep breath of cold air before opening the door to the limo. Now he was going to have to convince her to help even though she was pissed—a prospect he found himself oddly looking forward to.
AT THE END OF HER SHIFT, twelve hours after she’d gotten to work, Regina slung her backpack over her shoulder and walked outside to where she’d left her bike. She’d put the light in her bag to attach to the bike later, but she’d drawn on her new gloves, flexing her fingers in delight at the fit and warmth. Milton couldn’t have picked a better gift.
The bike area was covered by a small awning and a streetlight shined down on the metal structure where she’d left her bike parked and secured that morning, highlighting a circle of snow in an orange glow.
It wasn’t there.
Milton Shaw’s limo was there, however, pulled up to the curb with the engine running. The back door opened and Milton Shaw stepped out, still in his suit from when she’d seen him in the hallway earlier.
“Don’t you ever give up?” Regina asked, too weary to put any heat in her tone. Not to mention that she was kind of getting used to him. Like a stray dog that just kept showing up at the house. Except that he was a sexy stray, and he made her want to do bad things.
“On occasion,” he said simply, “but not on something I really want.”
“My bike was locked,” she pointed out, though she wasn’t sure why she bothered. She imagined he could pick all manner of locks.
“Yes,” he agreed, “but it’s snowing.” He looked up to indicate the snowflakes that were drifting onto his hair and shoulders. “And it’s dark.”
He looked magical, standing there with snow gathering in his dark hair. He looked as if he would stubbornly wait there all night if that was what it took to get her to ride home with him.
“I can take care of myself,” Regina muttered.
“Let me give you a ride,” he insisted, and Regina chided herself for the naughty, naughty thought that drifted through her mind.
“I’ve been in your limo. I know exactly what kind of ride we’re talking about.”
He grinned, but managed to straighten his face before she threw her bike helmet at him. “I’m sorry about earlier. I meant to talk to you about the benefit at lunch, but I was . . . distracted.”
Thinking about you naked, Regina inferred, catching the way his eyes slid down the slick, tight material of the biking pants she wore, his eyes filled with heat. She couldn’t blame him; she couldn’t quite keep her eyes off him, either. He was gorgeous, standing there in a fedora like someone out of Casablanca, seemingly untouched by the cold while she was freezing. The interior of the limo looked heavenly, and he’d taken her bike. She didn’t like being manipulated, but she was too cold to care at the moment. Lie, her conscience yelled at her.
“Fine,” she muttered, “let’s do this.” She stalked over to him as best she could, her shoes crunching in the snow. “This doesn’t mean anything, understand. I’m just cold and had a shitty day.”
He nodded, but a small smile quirked the corner of his mouth.
“I understand,” he acknowledged and gestured for her to precede him into the limo.
She did, unslinging her backpack and climbing inside, aware as she did that he had an excellent view of her ass in the tight, shiny material she wore to ride. She was playing with fire here. After the last time, she couldn’t get in this limo without thinking of sex, of him touching her.
She took a seat as far away as she could, not wanting to tempt him—or herself—but as soon as he’d climbed inside and shut the door, he moved so that he was sitting next to her, heat radiating from him in waves.
Scooting away would seem childish, so Regina held her ground.
“You’re in my space,” she pointed out acerbically.
“I know,” he agreed. “I like it.”
She sighed. The limo pulled smoothly away from the curb, and Regina swayed, her shoulder brushing against his.
She straightened immediately, but he noticed and looked down at her, his blue eyes startlingly bright above his bold nose.
“Let me explain my idea for the benefit,” he told her. “A magic show for the kids, to raise money and to let them have a little fun.”
“A magic show.”
“Yes, we’ve done them before. Though don’t worry, the hospital has pretty strict rules about fire around the oxygen tanks.”
“I imagine,” she murmured. “This isn’t some stunt to get attention for yourself, is it?”
She regretted it the moment she said it, though part of her did wonder if it were true. He looked surprised, and . . . was that hurt?
“No.” He shook his head and looked away from her. “Though I thought I could use it to force you to spend time with me.”
“Force me?”
He looked down at her. “Well, I was hoping you’d just agree to go out with me, but I was going to ask you first.” He’d leaned down a little, so that his mouth was closer to her ear.
“How nice of you.”
“So, will you?”
“Help you with the magic show?” Regina felt the need to clarify. For a moment she’d thought they were talking about something else.
“Yeah.” He had that small half smile on his face again, his eyes fixed on her mouth.
Regina shook her head. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You don’t even know what I want your help with.”
He was closer still, and Regina realized that she’d lifted her face, her upper body drifting even closer to him, her breath mingling with his.
“I’m betting it involves me in a leotard—” she began, and he kissed her, sliding his hands deep into her hair, disturbing her bun, before they slid down her back.
His mouth was hard and firm on her lips, and just as delicious as she remembered. His teeth nipped at her lower lip and she gasped, sliding
her own hands into his thick black curls.
He shifted, putting her beneath him, and caught her wrists in his hands, drawing her arms above her head.
“I want you. God, I want you,” he growled. “I want you any way I can get you.”
His fingers stroked her wrists, soothing her even as she felt something twine around them.
Suddenly his hands were gone, but she was secured with rope to something behind her, a metal ring of some kind. She quivered, knowing that she should be wary at least, but instead that wild, reckless part of her reared up and said, Hell yeah.
“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked, his hands poised just above the collar of her shirt. “I want to touch you. My hands itch from wanting to touch you.”
He was rubbing his fingers together, as if he’d meant that literally, as if he couldn’t wait to feel her skin with his fingers. Regina arched upward in answer, feeling the tension in her arms where she was tied, smelling the leather as her body warmed the seat beneath her. She trembled, vibrating with arousal and something like fury. She didn’t like feeling out of control, but she was, her body demanding something that her mind rejected, at least consciously.
“Touch me, then,” she agreed, and he did, stroking gentle fingers beneath the collar of her shirt, running them along her collarbones.
“Soft,” he said in a guttural tone, and his nostrils flared with every deep breath.
Regina arched, pushing her breasts toward him and tightening her thighs around his hips. He was withholding himself, not letting her grind against him, and Regina felt an almost painful need. She needed him to do something.
“Ahhh,” she gasped as he molded his hands to her breasts, cupping them through her shirt and bra before squeezing gently. Regina felt an answering throb between her legs, and her hips jerked upward.
He laughed. “You’re so fucking delicious. I have to turn you over.”
Regina wanted to protest, but he’d already taken action. His lithe, nimble body gripped her knees as he levered himself away. With effortless strength, he flipped her, and the rope around her wrists, though not uncomfortable, tightened fractionally as it twisted.
The Lady Vanishes Page 9