The Lady Vanishes (16 page)

“As I was saying . . .” she continued, tugging back her hand because he was making her crazy with those soft, slow brushes. “I think we could have some fun together, but”—she pointed a finger at him—“I do not want to date you. I don’t want my picture in the paper. I don’t want anyone to know you and I are . . . involved.
Capisce?
”

His hands, restless now, began to fiddle with the pencil he’d been using to draw, making it seem to appear and disappear between his palms.

“You don’t want anyone to know we’re—fucking. I’ll say it. We’ll just be fucking. Not dating.”

Regina hadn’t thought about it in quite those terms. She wasn’t really the type to have a fuck buddy, but she didn’t want a relationship, either. She was beginning to think that he may have a few principles, but when this went south—and it would—she didn’t want it public. She didn’t want any part of her life public ever again.

“I’m not saying I won’t share a meal with you, or sit at home and watch a movie. It’s just that I don’t want to share my private life with everyone who likes to chase you online. No tweets, no Facebook posts, no publicity. That’s what I’m asking.”

“No benefit dinners either, then?”

Regina studied him, wondering why it mattered. “You go out with women all the time. I’m sure there are plenty that would love to go anywhere with you.” Regina thought of Celeste, of all the Celestes out there, and knew it was true.

“I want you,” he said simply, making the pencil disappear with a finality that made her blink. He stood again and held out a hand. “I’m good with your terms, but I have a few of my own.”

Regina gathered from his tone that his terms had something to do with sex, and she looked around the room to make sure that no one else had come in.

“What are they? You get to keep my bras?”

There was a gleam in his eye that made her shiver and want to scoot back at the same time. “I’ll buy you more. I’ll tell you the rest somewhere a little more private.”

Wondering exactly what she’d gotten herself into, Regina placed her hand in his, and used it to pull herself up. She stepped closer to him, so close that his nostrils flared a little, breathing her in. “That sounds perfect,” she said breathily, and brushed by him, heading back toward her office and then the locker room to get her things.

She heard him following, his steps predatory, and began to hurry.

MILTON COULDN’T QUITE BELIEVE
that she’d agreed. Just like that, she’d changed her mind and he was following that sweet little ass down the hallway. He felt like cheering and scooping her up, but restrained himself as he stalked behind her.

He didn’t let himself think too much about her conditions. He thought he understood where she was coming from, but part of him—the college-nerd part, maybe—hated that she didn’t want to be seen with him. It wasn’t going to stop him from tossing her in the limo, taking her home, and doing very, very bad things to her, but he thought maybe he could change her mind, maybe in a few weeks, once she realized that being involved with him publicly wouldn’t be the horrible experience she was expecting.

They walked past the nurses’ station and he caught Jackie’s eye. The chief nurse raised a questioning eyebrow at him above her dark red glasses.

He glanced at Regina and shrugged. He wasn’t sure what she was asking, but he didn’t have an answer regardless. Some of the nurses seemed to recognize him. He heard “Milton Shaw” whispered a couple times and faltered midstride. She wanted to keep it a secret.

Stopping in his tracks—he was making it pretty obvious that he was following her—he took out his phone and texted, “Meet you at the limo. Text me when you get outside.”

Scowling, he retraced his steps and went past the nurses’ station and to the exit. It wasn’t snowing, but it obviously had been. A thick crust of white covered the limo.

Milton hurried to get inside. “Shane, go around the block for a minute. We’re going to pick up Dr. Burke when she comes outside in a few minutes.”

Shane nodded and pulled away from the curb while Milton called his favorite five-star restaurant and ordered two meals, requesting that they be delivered to his brownstone as soon as possible. Then he called his housekeeper and asked her to light a fire in the library fireplace and wait for the food before she left for the day. As soon as he hung up the phone, Regina’s text appeared.

He snapped his head up, and said to Shane, “She’s on her way outside.”

“All right,” Shane replied and pressed on the gas, making Milton suspect that he’d conveyed his urgency a little too clearly.

When they swung around the corner and then through the parking lot to the employee entrance, Regina was stepping outside the glass door, bundled up in a purple down jacket with a white knitted cap and dark gray boots that came to her calves.

As soon as Shane pulled to a stop, Milton got out and held the door open for Regina, taking her backpack from her as she ducked inside. He followed after her, admiring her jeans-clad bottom, and closed the door quickly behind them.

“Shane, can you take us to the brownstone?”

“Sure, boss, no problem,” Shane replied, and quickly rolled up the partition.

A thick and molten silence descended between them, a silence that was not silence but deeply drawn breaths, expelled harshly from lungs that felt tight, from lips that trembled on the brink of saying something, anything, that would get them to the next kiss, the next touch between them.

“Can’t kiss you here,” Milton managed. “I won’t stop.”

She nodded, licking her lips, and took a deep shuddering breath. “I’ve never been like this. Sex has never been like this for me.”

Milton knew what she meant. He’d been fascinated by women before, been infatuated with the idea of them, had wanted them, but with her it was almost like a sickness, like something that took him over completely. It reminded him of his magic.

He wanted more.

“I ordered dinner. It’s being delivered.”

Relief came over her face, whether at the idea of being fed or the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to be seen in public with him, he wasn’t sure, and at the moment he didn’t care. He didn’t even know if he was hungry, but he wanted to feed her, wanted to indulge every need and whim she had, large or small, until she saw nothing but him, cared for nothing but the time they spent together.

He didn’t remember feeling this strongly for anyone, not for a long time, not since William was alive.

He stopped the thought in its tracks, not wanting it to escape, not daring to think about what it meant that he would equate her with his lost brother.

“Talk to me,” she urged, “or I’m going to crawl in your lap.”

Enough was enough. He laughed and tugged her up and over so that they were face-to-face, her legs straddling his hips.

“I’ll put my hands behind my back,” he said thickly, enjoying the feel of her. “Why don’t you just kiss me for a while?”

She seemed startled by the idea, blinking at him, but then she smiled, and it was not a smile he’d ever seen on her face. It had a childlike quality to it, a disbelief, as if what was happening was new and bright and wonderful.

“Yeah?” she asked, and he nodded.

“Cool,” she replied, and gripped his hair in her hands. She pressed her lips to his with an eagerness that made his hands clench into fists against the leather seat at his back. Her mouth tasted like almonds and honey. Her tongue, shy at first, gently traced his lower lip, tasting him. He groaned, enjoying the sensation. No one had ever kissed him with such care, as if she were exploring his tastes and textures.

Pressing deeper, she ran her tongue over his. He stopped himself from taking her mouth by sheer force of will, curious about what she would do next. How would she take his tongue? Would she twine hers around his luxuriously, lustily, pressing the muscular flesh together in one thick plunge, or would she glide delicately inside, exploring as she was now?

She made a small noise in her throat and scooted closer, pulling his head tighter toward hers. “Kiss me back,” she growled, and sealed her lips to his, twining her tongue around his with an urgency that matched the rocking motion of her hips against his.

His hands shifted to her hips to hold her tighter against him as his mouth took hers in return, plunging between her lips, tasting her as she’d tasted him. She was so soft, and smelled of hand sanitizer, peppermints, and arousal, the contrast making him feel light-headed.

They twined together, tightening around each other in the seat like two ball pythons, trying to squeeze the life out of each other in an attempt to get closer, feed the need that burned in both of them. Shit, he wanted to fuck her.

He released her lips to yank the cap off her head and sink his fingers into her hair, rapidly removing the pins with fingers that moved too quickly for most people to see. He threw them carelessly across the limo and buried his fingers in the thick tresses, gripping and releasing until her hair fell in soft dark waves down her back. At the roots near the back of her head, where her bun had been drawn tight, her hair was still damp and smelled faintly of lavender shampoo.

He breathed her in, letting the sound and scent of her imprint itself on his flesh, and ran his lips over her soft cheek to her ear. He didn’t know any seductive words, didn’t know what to say except what he felt, which was a simple but heartfelt, “I want to fuck you.”

BY THE TIME THEY PULLED UP
to his brownstone thirty minutes later, he’d stripped off his coat and scarf and hers, tossing them carelessly on the floor of the limo. He’d removed her bra, though her shirt was still on—mostly. He’d pushed it up over her breasts, and was busy sucking on the tight pearly nipples, making her moan and twist on his lap, the scent of their mutual arousal filling the overheated air in the back of the limo.

Shane didn’t roll down the partition, but he did tap discreetly on the glass, making Milton suddenly aware of his surroundings.

He pulled away from her breasts, staring at the wet tips with longing, his hands still weighing and caressing the soft white globes. “We’re here,” he said thickly, marveling at the perfect white breasts before him. Seriously, it still felt like a damn miracle when women let him see their breasts. Nothing made him hornier than a fine pair of tits in his face. He wanted to carry her in the house like that, with her breasts warming his cheeks, the smell and softness of her surrounding him.

She didn’t seem to understand at first, but then she flushed and jerked her shirt down over her hardened nipples.

“Where’s my bra?”

“Over there,” he murmured with regret. “Don’t put it on, though. Just put your coat on.”

She did as he said, scrambling off his lap and grabbing her coat, pulling it on and zipping it while he picked up his own coat. She shoved her bra in her pocket, but she put the knitted cap back on her head. Milton didn’t see how she could stand the idea; he was so overheated he felt like the cold air would do him good.

He grabbed her backpack. “Ready?”

She nodded, her face flushed, eager, and he opened the door and climbed out. Scrambling after him, he took her hand to make sure she didn’t slip on the snow-covered sidewalk.

Once he’d made sure that Regina was safely on the sidewalk, Milton leaned back inside the limo. “Thanks, Shane, I don’t think I’ll need anything more tonight.”

Shane nodded. “Pick you up in the morning?”

Milton almost shook his head no, wanting to keep Regina all day in bed with him, but he remembered that she probably had to work, and said, “Yes, that’s fine.”

“All right, boss, see you then.”

Milton shut the door and heard the limo pull away, leaving him standing on the sidewalk in the cold with the hottest doctor he’d ever met. Of course, at the moment the hottest doctor looked a little chilly—the tip of her nose was turning red and she’d shoved her hands deep in her pockets.

He took her elbow and hurried her to the front door of his brownstone. He hoped that Mrs. Beechum had arranged everything and gone on her merry way.

The doors opened automatically as he drew near, and he ushered her inside.