Midnight Magic, page 178
Her reprieve was over.
CHAPTER 10
Regie left her sanctuary on the balcony, went back into the apartment, and placed the mug in the sink. Pacing while she waited for Mr. Varg to reach her door, she wiped her damp palms on her leggings. When she'd arrived at the apartment, she's changed out of her office clothes and put on an oversized sky-blue knit tunic that reached the top of her knees. Underneath, she wore floral leggings in multiple shades of blue. She'd finished the outfit with fuzzy socks, also blue. Now she second-guessed her outfit. Was it too casual? What kind of message did the clothes send? That she was obsessed with blue?
She clamped down on the hysterical laughter rising in her throat and then mentally slapped herself. Since when did she care about what people thought of her clothes? Her relationship with Mr. Varg was fake. Besides, she didn't need to impress him, even if he had been her real fiancé.
A knock sounded, and despite her stern self-talk, Regie startled. She let out a big sigh and went to open the door.
He wore a black leather jacket, and his shoulders seemed to stretch across the whole width of the doorway. Had he somehow put on more muscles since this afternoon? "Can I come in?" he asked after Regina had gawked at him for a few seconds. A puzzled frown marred his forehead.
She blinked a few times and then cleared her throat. "I'm so sorry, yes, of course." Regie stepped back and opened the door wider to let him in.
He stepped into the apartment, a duffle bag in one hand and a motorcycle helmet in the other. A black leather messenger back was slung across his shoulder.
Of course, he rode a motorbike. He was a bad boy personified down to the faded blue jeans tucked into square-toed black leather boots.
The fresh smell of soap lingered in his wake as he walked further into her home. His head slowly turned as he took in the open plan kitchen and living room area. "Nice place. The view is spectacular."
"Thanks, the view is my favorite part."
Mr. Varg put the helmet on her dining table and dumped the bag on the floor. "So," he said, "there are a few things we should go over." He pulled a laptop out of the messenger bag, put it on the table next to the helmet, and then shrugged out of the jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. Underneath, he wore a heather grey Henley that stretched across his shoulders and biceps.
He pushed the sleeves up, exposing corded forearms. Oh boy.
There were a few reasons why Regie hadn't dated built men in the past. One of them was what her grandfather had pointed out in the meeting. Most of her boyfriends had been intellectuals who didn't have time or felt the need to spend time in the gym. But the biggest reason was that they were too much her type. As in, her libido liked the body type too much.
She couldn't risk losing control because she didn't know what the dark energy inside her would do in that situation. She'd never lost control over her emotions again since that horrible moment in the parking lot by the trailhead eight years ago.
Mr. Varg cleared his throat, and she realized that she was staring at him again. "I'm sorry," Regie said. "This is a lot to take in. I've never lived with a boyfriend before, fake or otherwise."
"Fiancé," he corrected, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "And if it makes you feel any better, neither have I."
It didn't, but she appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood. "Can I get you something to drink?" She walked toward the kitchen. "Coffee? Tea? Wine?"
"'Some water would be great. Ice if you have it."
She got a glass out of one of the cupboards and filled it with ice and water from the dispenser on the fridge door. "I have some food too. Are you hungry?"
"Let's go over the security protocol first and then eat. I want to make sure we get the cameras activated right away and make sure the team back at the office receives a clear feed."
Cameras? Here, in her sanctuary? Regina smacked the glass down on the counter before she dropped it. "Absolutely not," she shouted.
This was takin things too far. How would she ever relax with constant surveillance everywhere. What if she did something unusual? What if the darkness inside her escaped and was somehow caught on film?
Stalker or no stalker, she’d sacrifice her own life before she’d risk her grandfather discovering her secrets and distance himself from her.
CHAPTER 11
The bang of the glass against the counter startled Bolt's inner wolf, and it growled, looking for the threat that had made Regina Lansford create the loud noise. Bolt silently ordered the beast to stand down. It glared at him with glowing green eyes, refusing to stand down. Idiot, she’s angry at me, there is no danger.
He knew his own eyes would now be that color since the wolf had come to the surface. Lowering his gaze to the floor so he wouldn't startle Regina, he took a deep breath and forced his wolf to back off. The beast grumbled but finally relaxed and lay down with one final rumble of a growl under its breath. Why was it so protective of Regina? Bolt raised his eyes again to watch the pissed-off woman in the kitchen.
"I will not allow cameras in my apartment," she said, blue eyes blazing.
"They're already installed. Our team put them in immediately after our meeting this afternoon." Had there been a miscommunication? "In any stalking or anonymous threat situation, we send in a team that sweeps for electronic surveillance equipment in our client's home. And then, we install our own. I'm sorry, I thought you’d signed off on our procedure." Had Arek not secured approval before he sent in the team? It didn't seem likely since their alpha was a stickler for checkmarks and protocols. Bolt pulled out his phone and shot Arek a quick text, asking who'd approved the team's entry to the apartment.
"Well, I didn't." Taking a deep breath, she braced her hands on the counter and closed her eyes. When she exhaled, she looked at him again. Her eyes were still shooting sparks. "This is my home. I will not allow anyone to film me while I'm here. I absolutely did not approve this." She lowered her shoulders, but the effort it took was obvious. "Did they find any surveillance equipment?" He liked this new fiery Regina, she was far from an ice queen now. Too bad her ire was aimed at him, though.
"They didn't," Bolt's phone vibrated, and he quickly scanned the message from Arek. "Your grandfather gave us permission to install the cameras. He said he'd let you know and that you would be okay with us entering your apartment."
She shook her head. "Of course, he did." She muttered something under her breath that even Bolt, with his superb hearing, couldn't quite make out, but it had something to do with arrogance and testosterone. "I need to do something about his authority to approve people access to my apartment. It was supposed to be for things like repairs when I am out of town. Not to allow people to install spy equipment."
"I should probably tell you that he also allowed us access to your office and your warehouses." Bolt said.
Regina closed her eyes again, and her shoulders tensed up. "I can live with cameras in my professional environments, but you have to take the ones in here down. All of them." She looked straight at him, her cobalt blue eyes imploring him to do as she asked. That look went straight to his gut. He’d love to do as the lady asked, but that would endanger her. The thought of Regina in danger all of a sudden stirred something inside him.
His wolf lifted his head, reacting to the weird feeling. It growled quietly. What was going on with his beast? It never reacted this way to people. Bolt shook his head, focusing on the conversation again. "I'm sorry, but in order for us to protect you and find the assh...the person stalking you, we have to be able to monitor your home and your office."
A small smile played on her lips. "It's okay to curse in front of me. Besides, asshole is not that strong of a word. I can take it."
Bolt grinned back at her. "I'll keep that in mind." She was gorgeous when she smiled. His wolf agreed. He told it to shut up.
She picked up the glass of water and joined him by the table. Handing him the drink, she said, "I understand that in order for you to do your job, you need surveillance in place. But this is my home. All of this is too intrusive." She swept out her hand as if to include him, and his stuff, and the cameras that she couldn't see. "I need someplace where I can just be by myself, where things can just be normal. Where I can breathe." Her hand shot up to cover her mouth as if she didn't mean for the last sentence to slip out.
He sympathized with her. He really did. Being on camera all the time was bound to be intrusive. But on the other hand, he and the team needed to do their job, and the faster they got the creep making her life horrible, the faster he—and the cameras—could get out of her life. Surely, she could see that? "Would it help if I told you I could set the angles of the cameras so you have some spaces where you won't be seen on the feed?"
"Like how?"
"We're monitoring the apartment to stop intruders and to stop any harm coming to you. We're not using the cameras to spy on you. The concierge service and the building’s general security make our job easier in terms of who enters the building. For your apartment, we need to be able to see your interactions with guests and any entry points, like the front door and the windows."
"What about my bedroom and bathroom?"
He shook his head. "We have to be able to see your bedroom and bathroom windows in case anyone breaks in, but we do not need to see your bed or your shower and bath." A thought struck him. "Unless you're planning on having guests in the bedroom." For some reason, that disturbed him. It bothered his wolf more though, it growled.
CHAPTER 12
Bolt frowned and reined in the wolf with sharp command down their mental connection. "But in order for our relationship to work out, you should know that I wouldn't be with a cheating fiancée—fake or not." That didn't come out right. "What I mean to say is that in order for people to believe that we are together, you can’t sleep with other people." He rubbed his chest, there was that weird feeling again.
Regina blushed. "I wasn't planning on it." She wiped her hands on her thighs. "But why do you need to monitor the living and kitchen areas? Wouldn't you know whether I'd invited someone in or not by just checking the cameras by the door and the windows?"
Bolt felt a little sorry for what he had to say next. She really had no clue about how messed up her life had become. Or that the statistics were stacked against her stalker being a stranger. Most likely, it was someone she knew. Someone she worked with. "Your stalker might be someone you know and trust. Someone you would invite into the apartment. We need to make sure they don't hurt you once they've gained access." Regina's face fell. Her eyes widened. "I'll be here most of the time—or someone else from my team will—but just in case you're ever here by yourself and a guest visits, we need the cameras to monitor what goes on."
"On some level, I knew that the stalker could be someone I know, but this makes it so much more real." She bit her lip. "I'm going to need some time to process this."
Bolt could relate. Most likely, whenever they found her stalker, she’d experience a deep sense of betrayal. For her sake, he hoped it was someone she worked with and not a close friend. He pulled out one of the dining room chairs and gestured for her to sit down. "Let me show you exactly what my team will see on the cameras. Maybe that will make you feel better." After she sat down, he placed the laptop on the table and opened it. As he adjusted the screen so she could see better, he put his hand on her shoulder. A jolt of electricity zapped his hand, and he snatched it back. What the fuck?
Regina jumped. "What was that?" Her eyes were big and round as she turned and looked at him.
"I must have built up some static on your rug." It had felt about a hundred times stronger than static charge buildup, but that was the only explanation he could think of. It seemed to satisfy Regina because she turned back to the screen. Bolt's inner wolf, however, was not satisfied. The beast stood at full alert, ears forward, its muzzle slightly open as it drew in air over the scent glands on the top of the roof of its mouth.
Mine, it whispered inside his head. Ours.
Calm the fuck down, Bolt thought back. I'm working and do not have time for your games.
The wolf chuffed a chuckle but did as he asked, its tail twitching. Mine, it said again before putting its head on its front paws and closing its eyes.
He sighed inwardly. This job was going to be hard enough without his stubborn wolf messing with his mind. The beast had reacted to attractive women before, but not with quite such enthusiasm. Nor had it claimed them as theirs.
As soon as it was logistically possible, he'd head across the Golden Gate Bridge and to the Marine Headlines to shift and have a long run in his wolf form. The packhouse and his team were located out there. Maybe he'd be able to get a group of them together for a moonlit hunt. It had been ages since he gave his wolf a good run. If it hadn't been for Arek's dozer of a plan to make Bolt pose as a fake fiancé and thereby make him have to move in with Regina tonight, he would have taken the time to shift and run before starting this case.
The wolf became restless when he went too long without shifting. And a restless wolf was an unpredictable wolf.
An unpredictable wolf was a powder keg. Anything could happen when his wolf hadn’t been let out for a while, and it decided to take charge of both of them.
CHAPTER 13
Regie pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to tune back into Payel, who was rattling off a long list of action items for the week. Her assistant recrossed her legs and straightened the crease on the front of her grey linen pants. She'd paired them with a white loose button-down shirt, over which she wore a darker grey long vest. The outfit would have looked unshapely and dowdy on anyone else, but with Payel's olive skin tone, her jet-black bob with full bangs, and her startling violet eyes, it somehow came across as chic.
"And then tomorrow there is the women's shelter benefit," Payel said as the end of her litany of things Regie needed to deal with.
"Oh, crap. I'd forgotten about that." She sighed. Normally, she loved how busy her professional life was. Well, maybe not the public appearances. She hadn't had to deal with this many of those before the IPO. But she loved the day-to-day details, as well as the long-term plans involved with running Lofn Wellness. The people she worked with were some of the best in the business and made challenges fun to conquer and victories even more fun to celebrate. But today, she felt so tired.
Maybe it had to do with the ongoing stress of knowing that someone out there wanted her dead. Or, actually, maybe someone in the company. She refused to think that was the case, though. The betrayal of one of her employees hating her so much that they wanted to kill her wasn't something she could wrap her mind around.
Or, maybe it was the fact that sleeping in a bedroom that was partially under surveillance turned out to be impossible. Or, maybe it was knowing that a man—a very hot man—was sleeping in her guest bedroom that made it impossible to get any rest.
Either way, she was exhausted.
"Do you want me to cancel?" Payel frowned, an unusual expression on her face. She was one of the most positive and perky people Regie had met.
"I would love to not have to go." Regie smiled at the assistant. "But grandfather insists we make an appearance. The board thinks favorable media coverage will be good for the IPO." She widened her smile, but it took some effort. "Plus, the benefit is raising money for a good cause."
Payel put down the stylus by which she had been writing on her tablet. "Yes, but if you're tired or not feeling well, you can send them a check without having to spend the whole evening listening to speeches."
Regie nodded. "I could. But I'm also going to publicly announce that I am...engaged." The word felt foreign in her mouth, even wrong.
"What?" Payel straightened so quickly the tablet and stylus slid to the ground. "Since when? And to who?" She looked pointedly at Regie's left ring finger.
"Ah yes, the ring is getting resized." Mr. Varg had taken her measurement the night before and promised to have a ring for her today. Maybe she should have waited until after the jewelry adorned her finger. But then it would have been weird that she and Payel discussed the benefit just now, and Regie didn't say anything about introducing her new relationship.
This was so complicated. She was used to making confident, quick decisions. This whole stalker and fake fiancé situation had her second-guessing herself continuously. She didn't like it.
"Why haven't you said anything? I didn't even know you were dating anyone."
Regie turned to the narrative that Heimdall Shield had prepared. “He’s been working overseas for a long time. I met him during a trip last year, but we kept our long-distance relationship a secret. It’s so hard to make those work under regular circumstances, never mind while running a big company. But he’s going to be stateside now, and so he proposed.”
Payel stood and started to pace. "This is so exciting. We need a press release. We need an engagement party." She suddenly swiveled around and faced Regie, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "What about your dress for tomorrow? What are you wearing? You're going to be photographed like crazy once this hits the media." She squatted and retrieved her tablet and stylus from the floor. "Never mind, I'll get your favorite designers to send things over and get you an appointment for makeup and a blowout."
"No, no." Regie shook her head. "I don't have time for all of that."
Payel distractedly waved the hand that held the stylus in the air. "Of course, you do. You need to make time. This is huge."
Before Regie had a chance to protest further, someone knocked on the door. Payel quickly walked across the room and swung it open. "Can I help you," she said to whoever was on the other side, her head tilted back.
Mr. Varg leaned around the door, meeting Regie's gaze. "Is this a good time to chat?"
Payel looked down at her tablet and frowned. She tapped it several times. "Did you have an appointment? I don't have anything on the schedule."
