Suddenly her face was pressed into the damp leather of the seat, and she breathed in the hot, humid air of her own desperate pants. Her hair, which had been pulled back, loosened, and she felt his hands running through it, massaging her scalp with long slow strokes that made her moan.
Moving slowly, his hands slid to her neck, into the crevice between her upraised shoulder and neck and then down her shoulder blades. Regina arched her behind toward him involuntarily, letting the pleasure flow and shudder through her. Oh, fuck yes. This man might be crazy, but he knew how to touch a woman, how to let the anticipation build and burrow.
His hands fell away when she moved, and Regina knew, she just knew that he was looking at her. She wiggled—just barely—just enough to be noticed by someone who was really paying attention. He gave a rusty chuckle that sounded choked.
“I like watching your ass when you march along in your scrubs,” he told her, catching the cheeks of her buttocks in his hands and squeezing gently. “The sight of it makes me want to chase you down and push you in a closet so I can just squeeze it and hold you to me.”
His thumb ran along the seam of her workout pants and spread her just enough to make her ass tighten reflexively.
She gasped and he did it again, groaning himself now. Sliding his hands to the back of her thighs, he brought his hips forward so that the bulge between his legs pressed against her through her clothes.
Yes, God yes, that was what she wanted—that massive cock inside her, thrusting into her, making her forget her responsibilities, her reason, making her forget everything except the slide and rub of him inside her.
“God. I’m going to cry this feels so good,” he groaned. “I can smell you. I want to pull your pants down and fuck you here, but I’m not going to. You know why?”
Regina writhed back against him but had enough presence of mind to say, “Because I won’t let you?”
He laughed. “I think you’re considering it. But I’m not going to until you agree to go out with me.”
Suddenly her hands were released.
He wasn’t going to fuck her until she agreed to go out with him? As though she were going to beg him. Regina whirled around on the seat as the limo came to a stop. She was breathing hard, her heart racing. With a cry of rage, she slugged him in the shoulder.
“Ugh. Let me out.” She scrambled to the door and opened it, half stumbling in her haste.
He was messing with her position at the hospital and he was an asshole. She grabbed her backpack and helmet.
“Get lost, Mr. Shaw.”
She stepped onto the slush-covered sidewalk, careful not to fall as she tugged her backpack behind her. The entrance to her loft apartment was a nondescript door with a keypad that opened to a staircase.
She punched the numbers in quickly, her breath coming in painful gasps.
She heard the crunch of footsteps on the snow behind her as she opened the door, but she didn’t hesitate, opening the door before he could catch her. She shut it behind her and leaned against it, gasping.
“I didn’t want to take you unless you were sure,” she heard him say through the door.
Regina closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the door. Who was she mad at? Him? Herself?
“Forget it,” she told him. Just forget it. She was better off, right here, alone, not writhing on the leather seat of a limo.
“I can’t. I’ve never wanted anyone like this.”
“Too bad,” she told him stubbornly, and marched up the steps toward her apartment, vaguely aware that something was wrong.
She didn’t figure it out until she’d reached the top, unlocked the door to her apartment, and set down her backpack and helmet. She felt loose somehow, and her nipples, taut since her activities in the car, were rubbing against the fabric of her shirt.
She clutched her breasts with both hands. Her bra was gone.
“I’ll be damned,” she said, outraged.
Celeste, a half-pint of ice cream in hand, came in the living room at that point, dressed in pajama bottoms and one of Regina’s old Harvard sweatshirts.
“Wow,” she said around a mouthful of ice cream, pointing the spoon in Regina’s direction. “You really do need to get laid if you’re feeling yourself up in the entryway.”
“Shut up, Celeste,” Regina muttered. She left her things where they were and marched over to her sister, taking the ice cream out of her hands. “I need this more than you do,” she muttered, and headed for her room.
TUESDAY MORNING, Milton stepped off the elevator at Accendo, holding sketches of his ideas for the benefit on one arm. A young man sat behind the desk wearing a pink paisley tie and gray vest. The fact that he sat in a wheelchair was not immediately apparent, at least not to anyone who wasn’t looking for it.
“Zachary,” Milton greeted their assistant as he approached the desk. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Milton,” Zach gushed.
Milton removed his hat, running his fingers through his thick curly hair. The scarf followed, disappearing neatly inside the hat.
Roland, who’d approached from the office behind Zach’s desk, shook his head. “Zach, can you call that researcher in D.C. back for me and get her email address? I can’t get her to answer the phone.”
“Sure, boss,” Zach replied immediately.
Roland was wearing his usual Italian double-breasted suit, tailored and fitted to his wiry, lean frame, but he’d taken off the jacket. He seemed slightly more relaxed today, which was just as well to Milton’s mind.
Roland gestured to the plans in Milton’s hands. “Are these what you’re thinking for the tricks?”
Milton handed them over. “The main one—the one I want Dr. Burke to be in—is on the top. The rest are ideas I had for the kids. Simple tricks, mostly.”
“You’re thinking the kids will run around her with sparklers or something, building smoke?”
“Yeah.” Milton scratched behind his ear, and shifted his bag on his shoulder. “But I don’t know about sparklers. May have to find something nonflammable. They’re touchy about the oxygen tanks after last time.”
“Hmm.” Roland continued to study the drawings. “Not to mention that the lady might object to potentially being burned alive.”
“You’re thinking too Salem Witch trials?”
“Maybe a little. You should ask Nick. The disappearing lady is a classic. I’m sure we can come up with something.”
Milton pursed his lips. “It’ll need to fit on the stage at the hospital, unless we hold the benefit somewhere else.”
The phone rang, and Zach answered it with a pointed look at the two of them.
“Let’s go in my office,” Milton suggested, gesturing for Roland to lead the way. “Is Nick here yet?”
“He’s here.”
Milton understood from the tone that Nick was probably still a little pissed about the bra incident. Come to think of it, he had yet to hear Regina’s reaction to the bra trick.
“If we hold it at the hospital, the kids can participate more easily, but it’ll be difficult to fit a crowd of any size in there. The room may hold thirty people, tops. And if the kids are participating, their parents and the staff will want to attend,” Milton said as the walked into his office.
“Maybe we could set up a video feed. Cutting from the hospital to some other venue.” Roland shut the door behind them while Milton took a seat behind his desk.
“Hmm . . . seems too impersonal. I want it to be about the kids.”
“Oh, yeah?” Roland took a seat in the chair across from Milton’s desk. “I thought it was about the lovely Dr. Burke.”
Milton’s head snapped up. “How do you know she’s lovely?”
Roland spread his hands. “Oddly enough, I’m good with computers.”
“Funny.” Milton snorted.
“Not exactly.”
“So what are you going to do to convince her?”
Milton grinned and leaned back in his chair. “I offered to take her on a bike ride, but she turned me down. So, I was thinking I’d enlist the kids for help. She’s not good at saying no to them. And then, once she realizes I’m not so bad . . .”
“Sneaky.”
“Yeah.”
“It could backfire.”
Milton shrugged. “Possibly.”
“Hmm . . . Speaking of things backfiring, I heard from Yegor Polzin. He is unhappy with you for threatening his son.”
Milton had nearly forgotten about the incident. “Andrei was not-so-subtly threatening Regina in a restaurant. You know how he is.”
Roland nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me about it?”
“I forgot.”
Roland looked faintly exasperated, but unsurprised. “Well, I told Yegor that you probably had your reasons, and that his son needed a leash. He’s not that happy with me, either.”
Milton grinned. “What he’d say to piss you off?”
“Since you’re infatuated with the good doctor, I’m going to refrain from repeating it. Suffice it to say, we won’t be doing business with the Russians again unless they get desperate.”
Milton didn’t care. He’d never liked dealing with Yegor, anyway. They’d designed a security system for the old Russian, but Milton had never gotten over the suspicion that the man was just trying to figure out a way to hack Accendo’s servers.
“Good riddance.”
Roland rolled his eyes. “You and Nick are lucky I run the business side of things. If it were up to you two, we wouldn’t do business with half our clients.”
Shrugging, Milton fiddled with his mouse. “Some of our clients use our software to get away with illegal things,” he said, referring to Regina’s father.
“That’s not our fault. Or our problem,” Roland pointed out. “It’s software. It doesn’t have morality.”
It was true, but Milton didn’t like the idea of something he’d created hurting anyone, especially Regina, and part of him—a small part—wished he could take it back, or at least fix it somehow.
REGINA WAS SITTING in her small office reviewing some lab work when there was a knock at her door.
“Come in,” she called, and was somehow not surprised when Milton Shaw opened the door to her office, wearing a mustache and fake glasses like the ones she’d passed out yesterday, and a visitor’s badge that read “Shaw the Magician.”
“Don’t you work?” she inquired.
He shrugged, taking a seat in one of her chairs without an invitation. “Of course. But I don’t have to keep conventional hours.”
“Must be nice,” she murmured, but she didn’t really mean it. She was in a great mood, so great that even the challenge of Milton Shaw couldn’t dampen it. Chuck’s chemotherapy seemed to be working; his tumor had shrunk significantly. Hell, yes. She wanted to stand up and do a little happy dance. How was that for magic? But she couldn’t do that—couldn’t say anything, either, even though she thought Milton would be thrilled for the kid. With a decisive click of her mouse, she closed Chuck’s patient record. “So, steal any more bras lately?”
Milton ignored the snark and nodded at the screen. “How do you like the new system?”
“It works,” Regina said mildly. The truth was, she was fairly impressed. She hadn’t found any missing records or glitches yet, and it was easier to use than the old system.
“Not easily wowed, are you?”
Regina didn’t answer. She supposed she wasn’t, though she wasn’t sure whether that was because of her privileged background or because she was just a bitch. Either way, if you weren’t easily impressed, you weren’t easily fooled, and she had reason to be wary.
“Can I help you with something?” she asked instead of answering, and then wished she could recall the question.
He grinned unrepentantly. “You can.”
Regina waited for him to say something inappropriate, but he just stood and held out a hand. “Come on, the kids want to show you something.”
“You do know the kids would be happy with anyone playing in your little show?”
He shook his head. “No, they want you. I think they enjoy embarrassing you.”
“They aren’t the only ones.” She sighed, logged off her computer, and stood. “All right. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
She followed him out of her office and back into the main reception area and then down the sunflower-yellow hall to the entertainment room.
“Did the parents give you permission for this?” Regina asked as they passed through the glass double doors. They would have had to. No hospital did anything without forms signed in triplicate these days.
“Yes, Jackie helped me get the required signatures.”
“What, you have an army of lawyers on staff ready to draw up liability waivers at the drop of a hat?”
He paused and blinked at her. “Yes, actually.”
Grrr . . . of course he did. “All right. Let’s get this over with.”
There was a group of kids and several parents on the small stage. They were sitting on various pieces of furniture, chairs, or had been wheeled in on their wheelchairs. Some of them were her patients—most attached to their IVs and various monitors, but all of them were smiling. The room smelled of stale popcorn and the ever-present antiseptic cleanser used to mop the floors.
“Hi, everyone.” Regina paused a few feet away from the stage and waved. What does he have planned?
“Hi, Dr. Burke,” the kids chorused.
They didn’t say anything else, and nothing else happened. She glanced back to say to Milton, “Let’s get this show on the road,” but he was gone. The man moved like a damn ninja.
He appeared on stage and wheeled one of her patients, Emily, to the front of the small crowd of people.
“This is Magician Emily. She is prepared to offer the lady Dr. Burke a magical key if she will agree to play the role of the evil princess in our upcoming show.”
Regina folded her arms over her chest. “Evil princess?”
Milton shrugged. “It was either that or a troll. I voted for evil princess.”
Emily tugged on his arm, and he bent to listen to something that she whispered in his ear.
When he straightened, he put a hand on her shoulder. “Ready, Emily?”
The girl nodded. He handed her a slim pink wand with glitter inside, the kind Regina had seen at museum gift shops. “Here’s your wand. On the count of three, make the magic key appear.”
The girl, biting her lip in concentration, waved her wand over her lap and said, “I, Magician Emily, call forth the magic key.”
Regina didn’t see exactly what the girl did—there was some fumbling and a quick gesture from Milton—but suddenly there was an old-fashioned iron key, the kind you see in movies with castles, in her lap. She set the wand down and held up the key triumphantly. “I did it.”
“You did,” he said, grinning at her. “Well done. Now, if you would be so kind, take the key to our evil princess.”
She did, wheeling herself across the stage and down the ramp to where Regina stood, waiting. When Emily pulled to a stop in front of her, Regina couldn’t help but smile. “Pretty good, Em. I had no idea you liked magic.”
Emily shrugged. “It’s fun. And it’s something to do here. It’s pretty silly, I guess . . .” She handed Regina the key. “But I like it.”
Regina accepted it with a wary look in Milton’s direction. It was probably the key to his dungeon full of sex toys and ninja gear.
“All right.” Milton clapped his hands. “Who’s next?”
Half an hour later, all the kids had made some small object appear and h
anded it to Regina. She had a collection that included the key, a red clown nose, two toy cars, a small plastic dagger, and a knitted hat woven in a rainbow pattern. No bra. Thank God. He must have some sense of propriety. She did want it back, though. It was one of her favorites.
It had taken five minutes of the kids performing magic tricks to make Regina decide to help Milton and his little con artists with their benefit. She still wasn’t clear on exactly what she had to do, besides play the role of evil princess . . . and seriously? Why was she the evil one?
When they finished their presentation, only Milton remained on stage. He gestured and a bouquet of flowers appeared in his hand.
“What do you say, Dr. Burke? Will you help us?” He wasn’t begging. He was daring her.
Regina sighed, wondering if he was going to throw the bouquet at her. “Yes, Shaw the Magician, I suppose I will.”
The kids cheered—even Chuck, who still seemed to be trying to decide if he was too cool or too old to be included in this little crew.
“Thank you, Dr. Burke.” He bowed, and the flowers turned into a bag of dog treats. “And now—for the kids—Simon the Wonderdog.”
From behind Regina, an older woman with short gray hair and dark brown eyes was approaching with a golden retriever in a harness. A service dog—one seen often at the hospital.
The kids cheered and went to pet him while Cathy, his handler, bent down to manage them so they didn’t overwhelm the pup.
Regina found herself standing alone, watching the kids play with the dog.
Milton joined her after a moment, coming to stand behind her, still carrying the dog biscuits. “Magic never wins out over dogs.”
“That is magic,” Regina replied, smiling as the dog wagged its tail enthusiastically.
Milton nodded. “Thank you,” he said. Regina had to assume that he meant for agreeing to help with the benefit.
Regina started to make some cutting remark about him just wanting to get into her pants again, but she bit it back. Whatever his main reason, he did care about the kids, and the benefit would help them. It was reason enough for her to participate.
The Lady Vanishes Page 10