Midnight Magic, page 177
"That still doesn't explain why Regie wouldn't have mentioned this man before." Grandfather shook his head. "It's simply not acceptable."
"Mr. Lansford, if you want your granddaughter protected twenty-four-seven while not tipping off your board of directors, this is your only choice."
The idea of having a stranger with her constantly chilled Regina to the core. That was too invasive. He would see too much. Know too much. "Couldn't I have a woman bodyguard post as my new best friend instead?"
Arek nodded. "You'll have a female protector posing as your friend as well. But unless you've dated women in the past, all kinds of rumors would start flying if she stayed overnight often."
"She hasn't," Grandfather said. "And if she starts dating women now, that will cause the same kind of media circus that we're trying to avoid by keeping the threats quiet."
Regina took a deep breath, but the air felt too thick. She couldn’t help being straight. It wasn’t like sexuality was a choice. You fell on the spectrum in one spot or another. Her mind searched frantically for an out from this bonkers situation. "But once the board members are all vetted, we can break up?" She shot Bolt a look and echoed the words he’d thrown at her before. "No offense."
He shot her a sly smile. "None taken. We just have to agree on who will dump who. Or is that who will dump whom? My intellectually inferior mind doesn't always get the grammar correct." He winked. She didn't care about the grammar, but obviously, she would be the one breaking up with him. Duh.
"That won't work," Arek said. No matter how much you trust your board members, someone is bound to leak that your relationship was fake."
"And then we're back to a media circus again," Grandfather said.
"There has to be another way. Can’t we just delay the public offering until we figure out who this maniac is?" Regina’s nerves were frazzled, and she felt on the verge of a major breakdown. She needed to get out of here quickly and do some deep breathing in order to stave off the anxiety building up inside her.
"That would start up other rumors," Grandfather said. "People will wonder if there's a financial problem that we don't want to disclose. It would hurt us even more in the long run than vicious rumors about you personally."
Regina took a deep breath and pressed her index fingers to her throbbing temples. She'd worked so hard to get to where she was. This company and the people who worked for it meant the world to her. She couldn't jeopardize their livelihood and careers in order to spare herself the inconvenience of having someone with her twenty-four-seven. Plus, she owed her grandfather this IPO. I had to generate enough money to pay back the fortune her dad had swindled.
No matter how hard it would be. She'd just have to figure out a way to keep her secrets safely locked away from Bolt and the rest of the world.
She’d been able to keep boyfriends from getting too close before.
How hard could it be to keep a fake fiancé, a stranger at that, at an arm’s length?
CHAPTER 7
Bolt paced Arek's office, stomping out his irritation with each step. "There's got to be someone else that can take this job." He glared at his alpha and snarled when he saw the amusement in Arek's eyes.
"Sorry, Justice is tied up with Bayden's disappearance, and he's going to stay on that until we get our pack member back." One of their wolves who worked a fraud case had all of a sudden stopped communicating with them, and nobody seemed to know what had happened to him. Bolt wasn’t close to Bayden, but the fact that someone in the pack could just go missing was disturbing.
"Sorry, mate." Justice shook his head. "Wish I could help, but I'm sure you got this all handled. What did you call this client, the ice queen?" His British accent made the consonants extra clipped.
Bolt regretted sharing that nickname with the others, but it had slipped out before he could filter his thoughts. He still needed that nap. Moving his glare from Arek to Justice, he claimed the visitor's chair next to the one the Brit sat in. "I didn't mean to say that out loud," he grumbled.
"I love it." Justice grinned at him. "You with all them bottled-up emotions, ready to explode, paired with a woman who's all poise and control." He reached for the can of soda he'd placed on Arek's desk.
"I don't bottle up my emotions," Bolt countered just as Laney slipped through the door. The strong scent of witchcraft trailed after their alpha’s True Mate. The witch could manipulate space and time with her magic and send items into other dimensions. She also had the ability to date ancient magical artifacts.
"You absolutely do," the witch said as she walked over to Arek where he sat behind the desk and gave him a kiss. Their alpha's gaze softened as he looked at his True Mate. He tucked a strand of her wavy brown hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek. The couple shared a private smile before Laney threw herself down on the sofa along one of the walls. She faced Bolt. "There are so many emotions trapped inside of you it's a wonder you don't walk around perpetually constipated."
Liquid sputtered out of Justice's mouth, soaking Bolt's jeans. He jumped out of the chair.
"Sorry," the Brit croaked out between coughs. "It's just, Laney described you perfectly."
"Fuck you," Bolt mouthed quietly and blotted his jeans with some tissues from the dispenser on the desk. He threw an apologetic look at Laney. Because of what had happened with his brother, Arrow, he mistrusted witches on principle. However, Laney used her powers for good, and so he liked the witch. It had, however, taken him a long time to get to that point. And after the constipation comment, she’d slipped a few positions on his list of favorite people.
"It's okay to swear out loud even if I'm in the room," Laney said. "I'm not that delicate." Her golden eyes sparkled. "So, what's got Bolt so worked up," she asked Arek.
He walked over to sit down next to his true mate, putting his arm around her. "Bolt's just found out he’s going to pose as a fake fiancé for our new client."
Laney scooted closer to Arek, leaning into him. "Is this Regina Lansford we're talking about? I love her yoga videos." Bolt frowned. The ice queen did yoga videos? Before he had a chance to ask, Laney excitedly continued. She scooted her slim athletic body to the edge of the sofa. "Regina is such a bad-ass. She built a multi-billion company from scratch that's all about women accepting themselves as they are and learning to love themselves." Her amber eyes shone. "I'm so excited she's our new client...well, except for that whole stalker thing. That's not good."
"I'm confused," Justice said. "I thought Lofn Wellness was all about getting women to workout. Doesn't that mean they want to change themselves, or at least their bodies?"
Laney shot him one of those I-can't-believe-I-have-to-explain-this-again looks that women used whenever they had to deal with a dense male brain. "Lofn Wellness's mission is to get women to accept themselves as worthy so that they want to feel better for themselves. Not so that they work out to look better for someone else."
Bolt didn't understand why this distinction made all the difference, but he wasn't going to tell Laney that. The witch looked at both him and Justice, so he nodded as if he understood. He worked out because he wanted to be strong and good at his job. When he'd been a captive in the fighting pits, he'd worked out in order to survive. To some extent, that was still true. He needed to run in wolf form in order to tame the wildness of his spirit and stay sane. But he didn't think cardio or strength training made him more or less worthy.
The nod must not have been convincing, or maybe Justice still looked clueless because Laney sighed loudly. She looked at Arek, who also nodded, and then shook her head. "Look, I could work out because I want to look good on the outside, but until I love myself on the inside, I'm never going to believe I look good on the outside. Get it?"
Bolt did not, but he tilted his head, trying to look as if what she said made perfect sense. Loving the inside made you look good on the outside. He had no idea what that meant.
Justice shook his head. "I'm sorry, love. I don't."
Laney snorted. "Of course, you don't. You're a man." Bolt shifted in his seat and noticed the other two males doing the same. Those words in that tone of voice never led to anything good.
CHAPTER 8
His Alpha’s True Mate’s voice rose in volume as she continued. "You were raised to believe that the world centered around you and that how you look is just fine. You’re judged on what you accomplish, not on how you look."
Justice and Bolt were both raised by the same pitmaster. A mean son of a bitch who used the whip to get them to do what he wanted. Bolt didn't know the details of Justice’s thoughts during that time, but his own focus had been on surviving and getting out of the hell that was the fighting pits. What he looked like hadn't really been all that important. However, now didn't seem like a good time to bring that up because Laney was on a roll.
"Women, on the other hand," she continued, her voice rising even more. "We're taught that we never measure up to the world's beauty ideal. The whole cosmetic industry and most of the fitness companies tell women that they are flawed and that their products can fix them."
"To be fair," Justice interjected, "those industries tell men that too."
Laney shot him an impatient look. "Yes, but not to the same extent. Men's worth is valued according to their wealth and power. The media would never describe the cut of a rich male CEO's suit or mention what shoes he wore. However, even if you're one of the most powerful women in the world, journalists will still mention your hairstyle, your weight, and what you wear. A woman's worth is always about how she looks. It’s so messed up that fashion magazines sell much better when they have a female model on the cover, even though they market to women."
Bolt didn't read fashion magazines, but he could see why that was bonkers.
"I thought that was because those magazines are about clothes," Justice said. "It wouldn't make sense to have a man on the cover. Why would women want to buy men’s outfits?"
"My point is," Laney said, frustration lacing her voice. "Lofn Wellness tells women that they are perfect just the way they are. That they are worthy and that they deserve to feel better in body, mind, and soul. Working out is not to make yourself look better to meet someone else’s standards. It's about making yourself stronger and healthier so that you can live your best life."
Justice rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful. "That's brilliant."
"Yes," Laney agreed. "Isn't it amazing?"
"Ms. Lansford is a brilliant marketing strategist. She's managed to convince her customers that she is different than all the other companies out there. And she can show them why they didn't meet their fitness goals in the past."
Laney shook her head. "No, that's not what she's saying."
Justice nodded. "But it is. She's still telling them that they are flawed, like all the other companies, but not because they're not good-looking enough. They're imperfect because they don't love themselves enough. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that she was born into immense wealth and privilege. Even if she fails in business, she’s got family money to soften her fall."
Laney stared at Justice, who calmly met her gaze. Then she looked at Arek, who just shrugged. Bolt did the same when her golden eyes met his. Finally, she stood. "It's impossible to reason with someone as cynical as you," she shot Justices' way before she stomped out. “And for your information, she was not born into money. Her dad squandered most of the family money. Her parents’ life insurance paid for her college and graduate school, but she rebuilt the Lansford family fortune with Lofn Wellness. Something you’d know if you’d bothered to read her file.” She didn't slam the door, but it definitely made a louder noise than normal.
Bolt mulled over Laney’s words about Regina Lansford earning her own money. He’d have to adjust his view of the ice queen. What he really needed was for this meeting to be over so he could take that nap and then read his new client’s file.
"Do you have to do that?" Arek asked Justice. "Do you have to push all her buttons?"
"But it's so easy," the Brit laughed. "I'll apologize later. She'll forgive me. Again."
"One of these days, she just might not," Arek answered. He growled low. “Or maybe I won’t.”
Justice nodded. "She loves me and knows I’m just teasing. But I get your point. I’ll stop irritating your mate. At least for today, maybe even for the rest of the week." He turned toward Bolt. "Let's discuss this new job of yours then. Now that we know how brilliant Ms. Lansford is, how are you going to hold your own against her?"
The Brit hadn’t just slipped down the list of favorite people by questioning his intelligence. He was completely struck off now. As a matter of fact, he had a new position on a list of people Bolt would most like to punch in the face. "It's a job like any other job," he said, purposely keeping his voice flat while wondering how hard he'd have to hit Justice’s nose to wipe that smug look off his face.
CHAPTER 9
Regie poured hot water over the tea leaves she'd scooped into a mug. She didn't particularly want the hot beverage, but she needed something to do with her hands.
Bolt Varg was on his way over to her apartment to officially move in. She'd never lived with anyone, couldn't even picture what it would be like to share her home with someone. Especially share her home with a fake fiancé.
She'd put clean sheets on the guest room bed and changed the towels in the attached bathroom. Nobody had visited her since she last changed them, so she probably could have left everything as is, but having no idea how long the linens had been in the guest room, she figured refreshing them would make Bolt feel welcome.
And again, it had given her something to do with her hands.
She paused in her pouring. Did she want him to feel welcome?
Not really.
What she wanted was for all of this to be over.
For the stalker to be caught, for the public offering to be over, and for her to be back at work without any public appearances on the schedule. She hated being paraded around as the representative of her company. As the founder and CEO, she took credit for the initial idea of her business and for hiring and leading an exceptional team. However, the hard work had been done mostly by the amazing people she'd hired.
Okay, so maybe she could also take credit for knowing who would fit on her team in terms of personality and the skills they contributed, but still, the success of the company had been accomplished by more than just her—by people who made their livelihood through Lofn Wellness. People she was responsible for and would suffer financially if she screwed up the public offering. Regie pinched the bridge of her nose and then massaged her temples, trying to alleviate the headache that had plagued her since this afternoon’s meeting with the security company.
Grabbing her mug of tea and her phone, she walked through the open-plan kitchen and sitting area to the big wall of windows and then out the sliding door that led to her patio. Curling up in one of the large wicker armchairs, she pulled a fleece blanket over her and admired the view. She'd never get tired of being able to see the beautiful waters of San Francisco Bay from her home. The breeze played with her hair, and she brushed it from her face. Despite it having been a warm day, the afternoon had turned chilly, like it often did, but the fog hadn't yet engulfed the city. In an hour or two, it would roll in from the hills across the bay, over the waters, and then blanket all of San Francisco in damp grayness and obscure her beloved view.
But for now, she could see Alcatraz Island, with its famous prison, rising from the water's surface in the middle of the bay. The historic Golden Gate Bridge and the newer Bay Bridge made up the left and right edges of her view. To be able to gaze out at the water and the landmarks every day made it worth having to live in a high-rise. Plus, it was convenient to be able to walk to work. After the threats started arriving, she also had a new appreciation for the screened access to her apartment the people of the concierge service guarding the front door of the building provided. But if she could choose her perfect home, it would be a house that had a garden where she could grow vegetables and flowers. Maybe she would have that dream someday. And maybe that dream would include a family or at least a partner.
She shook her head. There would be no true partner in her life. She couldn’t risk someone finding out about her weird abilities. At least not as long as her grandfather was alive. Losing his love would not be something she could ever overcome. And she owed him so much. Sacrificing having a regular life seemed like a small price to pay. Plus, her company was her baby. Her legacy and her payment to her grandfather for all that her father had squandered.
Her thoughts returned to the brawny man she now was fake engaged to. What was she supposed to do with him? She'd dated in the past, but her relationships had always taken a backseat to her work. Having someone actually stay with her, even if it wasn't a true relationship, ratcheted up her anxiety. She cradled the warm mug in her hand while she took a deep breath in, held it for a count of seven, and then breathed out again.
Repeating the exercise, she paid special attention to engaging her diaphragm and filling her lungs to capacity. The swirling dark energy inside her calmed somewhat but refused to settle down completely. She'd managed to keep the frightening blackness under wrap during the meeting with Heimdall Shield, but the rest of the afternoon, she'd been on the verge of a major anxiety attack. That's why she'd finally left the office and sought the sanctuary of her apartment. This was the one place where she could always center herself, always find her calm. And so, the thought of letting a stranger live here for an undetermined time span felt like a big sacrifice, like an intrusion.
Her cell phone vibrated, skipping across the glass tabletop where she'd placed it. She caught it before it reached the edge and looked at the display. The concierge downstairs had sent a message asking if Bolt Varg was allowed access to her apartment. Regie's finger itched to click the no button, but she approved the request and then let out a big sigh.
