Midnight Magic, page 180
"I wish she was here too," Regie said, blinking away the tears. She'd already noticed the many flashes of cameras taking pictures of her. A front-page image of her bawling her eyes out was something she wanted to avoid.
Grandfather patted her hand, and they continued their way to the table they'd sponsored for the evening. More camera flashes went off. One photographer actually crouched right in front of them, and they had to stop in their tracks until he'd finished.
Regie made a mental note to thank Payel for insisting on full primping and a new dress for this event. The salon Regie had visited made an artwork of her hair by creating dozens of interwoven braids that kept the style off her face but created height and still allowed much of her tresses to cascade down her back. The effect was both dramatic and playful. The makeup artist somehow enhanced all her good features—her eyes looked huge and mysterious—but still made it look like she wore very little cosmetics.
Of the gowns sent to the office, Payel had picked a lavender silk dress for Regie. The designer was young and just starting to make their mark on the San Francisco fashion scene. The garment was made of braids and fabric swatches that crisscrossed Regies body, covering everything, yet accentuated the few curves she had, making the gown look almost revealing.
Under the lights in the ballroom, the material of the dress became a waterfall of colors in everything from dawn-gray to purple, making it even more dramatic. Regie made a mental note to send Payel and the designer flowers to thank them both for making her feel like a princess.
No, a queen. She felt like a queen.
Actually, she'd send thank you notes to the hairstylist and the makeup artist too. And she'd make sure they all got credit in any press where a picture of her appeared.
Three people were already sitting at their table when they'd finally arrived. Arek stood and introduced the two women who were with him. "Mr. Lansford, Regie, this is my fiancée, Laney, and you already know Nora." He leaned in to kiss Regie's cheek. "Nora's your new best friend," he whispered in her ear.
Regie swallowed hard. More pretend.
She already lived with so many secrets that playing this role that required so many untruths shouldn’t be a problem, and yet somehow it was.
The lies all piled up on top of each other and threatened to suffocate her. She took a deep breath. She would get through this. Giving up was not an option. It had never been an option.
But sometimes, late at night, after a long day at work, she wondered what it would be like to meet someone she could be fully herself with.
CHAPTER 18
Regie forced herself to smile at both women. According to the narrative Heimdall Security had prepared about her and Bolt's relationship, Nora had introduced them to each other when all three of them were in London at the same time.
The woman stayed seated but looked to be tall. She was muscular and wore her flaming red hair—which matched her gown exactly—in a bob that she'd secured behind her ears with stunning diamond clips. A scar ran from the corner of her right eyebrow, across her eye, and down to the top of her lip. The overall impression was that of a proud warrior. In a word, Nora was striking. She smiled at Regie and her grandfather. "It's so good to see you again. Regie, sit by me. We have so much to catch up on."
Regie did as told and took the chair between Nora and Arek's fiancée. She smiled at Laney. The woman wore her wavy burgundy hair in a classic French twist, and her amber gown perfectly accentuated her honey-toned skin and golden eyes. Arek's fiancée smiled back. "I'm so happy to finally meet you." As Regie's arm brushed against hers, her smile faltered, and she gave Regie a sharp look. Before she could ask Laney what had happened, Nora tapped her shoulder, and she turned toward the other woman.
"Bolt is on his way," Nora said in a low voice. "We've had an incident with another case. That's why he had to leave so suddenly last night and why he's been absent today."
"Is he okay?" Regie shook her head. "I mean, is everyone okay?" After they’d had their meal last night, Bolt had gotten a phone call about an emergency on another case and rushed back to Heimdall Shield’s offices.
Nora paused. "We hope so. One of our operatives is missing, and we received some worrying information." She suddenly smiled. "But that's not for you to worry about. You have enough on your plate right now." She leaned back a little and looked Regie over. "I love the dress and the hairstyle. The braids are very shield-maiden inspired."
"Thank you. I was just admiring your gown."
At that moment, her fake fiancée arrived, and a loud buzz in Regie’s ears overpowered the other woman's response.
Bolt Varg in a tuxedo took her breath away.
The tailored jacket perfectly fit his broad shoulders. Although the expensive material was too thick to reveal any of his toned body, he somehow managed to still look muscular.
"I'm sorry I'm late." He bent down and lightly kissed her cheek.
An echo of the sparks that had zapped them when they'd touched the night before zinged her cheek. She looked down at the floor, no carpet, so the static buildup wouldn't work as an excuse here. The man had an obvious effect on her libido. There was no denying it.
Regie had to swallow twice before she could speak. “Well, a phone call would have been nice.” She tried to sound haughty, the way a peeved fiancée would, but this new sexy spy look of his threw her off-kilter. She sounded a bit breathless instead.
He smirked, hopefully, because she was pretending to be irritated and not because she’d become all flustered. “That dress looks amazing on you, Babe.” The sparkle in his eyes told her he knew exactly how much the nickname irritated her.
She was about to tell him, again, to change the term of endearment but swallowed the words when the mayor’s wife strolled by with a little wave to Regie and a very appreciative glance for Bolt.
“Let’s dance.” He held out his hand to Regie, one eyebrow raised.
She considered turning him down because she was too discombobulated by the weird emotions flooding her body. But that would ruin the image of the happily engaged couple her PR team and Heimdall Shield were working so hard to create. “I didn’t know dancing was part of your skillset,” she said while placing her hand in his.
He interlaced his fingers with hers and placed his other hand just above the small of her back, pulling her close.
Another zing of electricity zapped her, and she worked hard to suppress the flush of heat that started low in her abdomen and flooded her body.
Bolt’s quiet chuckle told her she’d not been successful. His lips brushed against her temple so lightly she thought maybe she’d imagined it. But his breath was hot against her neck as he whispered in her ear. “You haven’t even scraped the surface of my skillset yet, Babe.”
Well, he didn’t need any more practice of PDA. He was already an expert.
Regie felt a flush creep all the way up from her toes to the roots of her hair. “I really do hate that nickname.” Her voice sounded hoarse. She was in trouble.
“It’s not a nickname.” The rumble of his voice echoed in her own chest as he pressed her closer. “It’s a term of endearment.” He leaned a little lower and kissed her neck, teeth scraping against her skin, creating delicious friction.
Tendrils of electricity shoot through her nerves straight to her core. Heat pooled in her abdomen and then slid lower. A sigh escaped from her lips. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from moaning outload.
Bolt had her more turned on with whispers and small kisses than most men had accomplished naked beside her in bed.
She was in so much trouble. Big, big trouble.
CHAPTER 19
It wasn't until he'd pulled Regie to the dance floor and moved with her for a few paces that Bolt realized he'd been rude to everyone else at the table. He glanced over where his colleagues were sitting. Arek and Nora grinned back at him with raised eyebrows. They would obviously razz him about his preoccupation with Regie later. But, right now, that didn't bother him. Her body felt so good against his, so right, that all he could think about was her. Not even the weird spark that happened whenever he touched her worried him right now. He just wanted to enjoy the way her soft curves molded perfectly against his front.
Mine, his wolf purred.
Bolt ignored it.
Instead, he shifted his stand so the raging hardon in his pants wouldn’t press against her thigh.
"This feels like a lot of PDA."
"I figured we’d start strong and convince everyone of how in love we are." He chuckled, trying to not show how caught up in her scent and taste he’d gotten. She smelled and tasted so fucking good. “It’s what all the fake fiancés do these days.”
"I wouldn’t know. You're my first one." She leaned back so she could look at him. "Did you find out what had happened to your colleague?"
So, someone had told her about Bayden. "No, we just know that he's missing." Bolt had run after last night's dinner because Justice had found Bayden's car, with blood inside. When Bolt arrived on-site, Justice had already identified it as Bayden's. And there was a lot of it. They'd both shifted to wolves and searched a wide area, but there were no clues to where Bayden was or who might have hurt him. But this wasn't something he could discuss with Regie.
"I'm sorry. I hope you find him." She leaned back into his embrace.
"We will." He kissed her temple again, intoxicated by the feel and smell of her in his arms. A languid sense of peace seeped into his body. He'd never felt so calm, and somewhere in the back of his mind, it worried him, but the thought floated away before he could capture it.
He pulled her closer, the scent of wildflowers growing stronger. She fit perfectly against him. His hand slipped lower on her back, the tip of his fingers caressing the top of her tailbone.
She sighed, her exhaled air hot against his neck.
Bolt’s erection strained harder against the fly of his pants. He grabbed Regina’s hand and pulled her toward the edge of the dance floor and out one of the glass doors leading to a balcony.
"What are you doing?" She looked startled.
"I needed some fresh air." Cold air was actually what he needed, or even better, a cold shower.
She rubbed her arms, looking out at the view. "Well, it's definitely refreshing."
"You're cold." Stating the obvious, genius. But most of his blood had headed south, so his cognitive functions were sorely lacking at the moment. He took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders.
"Thanks." She smiled up at him and cuddled into the garment.
Her scent mixing with his alerted his wolf. Ours.
He needed to kiss her with a desperate urgency. Bracketing her face with his palms, he leaned down and claimed her lips.
Regie froze, and he immediately pulled back, but then she leaned in, pressing her hot mouth against his. He groaned and tilted his head to give her better access. She parted her lips, and his tongue slipped into her mouth.
She moaned deeply, driving him wild.
He caressed her back, moving his hand lower and pressed her firmly against his hard ridge.
Her moan became a groan, and she interlaced her hands behind his neck, pressing herself against him.
He moved them further into the shadows of the balcony so that Regie's back touched the sidewall. Cradling her neck, he tilted her head so he could deepen the kiss. His tongue mated with hers.
She met him thrust for thrust.
CHAPTER 20
Bolt grabbed her hips and lifted her so that she rode the top of his leg. Her thighs clamped down, and she nipped his lower lip. He took a deep breath to keep from coming on the spot. The ice queen had him on fire.
He needed to get closer, needed to feel her heat. In the back of his mind, a niggling awareness of going too fast, too far, tried to make itself heard.
But then his wolf whispered, mine, and it sounded so right.
His lips traced her jawline and down her neck. He licked the part of her cleavage the gown exposed. When he reached the cleft between her breasts, he sucked her skin and bit down gently. His fingers traced the silky material of her dress down her thigh.
She moaned again as his hand stroked the back of her knee and then moved back up the front of her leg. When he reached the junction of her thighs, he had to stop and take a deep breath.
He rested his forehead against hers.
"Why did you stop?" Regie whispered against his neck.
"Where are your panties?" he growled.
He felt her smile against his hot skin. "This gown required me to go commando. I didn’t want any panty lines to show." She grabbed the hand that was between her legs. "Touch me," she said, guiding his hand to her damp core.
He slipped his fingers inside her.
Regie whimpered when he pressed her clit with the pad of his thumb. "That feels so good,” she groaned.
He pushed harder, finding the rhythm she liked based on her rapid breathing and increased heart rate. "Come for me, Babe," he breathed in her ear. "Let me feel you climax."
She moaned loudly.
He licked her throat and nibbled her jawline. Her thighs clamped down harder, and he claimed her mouth with his, capturing her scream as she orgasmed and milked his fingers.
Mine, his wolf growled. Bolt wanted to argue with the beast, but right now, in this moment, the woman in his arms felt like she should belong to them.
To him and his wolf.
Regie’s head hit his shoulder as she breathed out a deep sigh. "I'm kind of embarrassed now."
He frowned. “Did I do something wrong? Why would you be embarrassed?” Did she not feel this same connection?
“No, you did everything right.” Regie looked up at him from his shoulder. "But it wasn’t mutual. You didn’t come."
True. He was hard as a rock, but this had been all for her. "When I come, I want to be buried inside you."
She blushed but didn't look away. "Deal."
He retrieved the handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket, still draped around her shoulders. "Do you need this?"
The pink on her cheeks turned deep red. She squirmed, and he loosened his grip so she could stand on her own. Regie held out the skirt of her dress. "This is so wrinkled." She shook her head. "Everyone is going to know what we've done."
The skirt looked fine to him. Maybe a little creased, but not so anyone would notice, probably. "Do you care if anyone knows?" For some reason, it bothered him. He chose not to examine the reasons.
She gazed at him for a beat, the light from the windows highlighting her beautiful face. "No." She smiled. "No, I don't."
Something inside him loosened, making him feel happy and free, despite the worry about Bayden at the back of his mind. "I'm glad."
"We should go back in." She held up the handkerchief he'd given her. "But I kind of need to..."
"I got you." He turned his back to her, and she used his shoulder for support as she sorted things out. "You okay?" he asked without turning around.
"Yup. You can turn around now." She held up the white square of fabric. "I'm not sure what to do with this."
He took it from her and put it in his pocket. "Souvenir." He winked.
She scrunched up her face. "Ew."
Taking her hand, he led her toward the balcony door. "For you, I mean. You can have it back later."
Her sweet laughter unlocked something deep in his chest. She squeezed his hand. "If I'd known how much I'd enjoy having a fake fiancé, I might have gotten myself one much sooner."
Although he joined in her laughter, the thought of her doing anything like what they'd just shared with anyone but him bothered him way more than it should.
His wolf growled at the thought.
And wasn't that just all kinds of fucked up.?
CHAPTER 21
As soon as they arrived back at their table, Regie grabbed the small clutch she'd brought to carry her phone, a lipstick, a credit card, and her driver’s license. Nothing else would fit, and she'd had to take her protective case off her phone to have enough room for the lipstick and close the clasp. She shot a quick smile at Nora and her grandfather, who were chatting, and then headed to the bathroom. As she skirted the dance floor, she saw Laney and Arek dancing. The tall blond man gave her an inquiry look as if asking if she was okay. Regie waved to him but didn't stop walking.
As the door to the restroom closed behind her, the volume of the music muted. She quickly checked the four stalls, but there didn't appear to be anyone else in the five-stall room. Regie walked over to the sink and put her clutch down on the counter. The marbled top felt cool against her skin. She flattened her palms against the surface and took a deep breath. What had happened out on the balcony?
She stared at her mirror image. Who are you? The woman looking back at her had flushed cheeks, and her eyes sparkled. She looked confident and strong--and like she'd just gotten fingered out on the balcony and orgasmed harder than she’d ever done before. A giggle escaped Regie's throat. It was the most daring thing she'd ever done. She shook her head. What if someone had seen them? What if someone had taken a picture of them?
Somehow, she'd forgotten about the IPO, about having to always appear professional, about having a reputation to uphold. All she had noticed was Bolt and how good it had felt to be in his arms on the dance floor. When he'd grabbed her hand and led her outside, she hadn't hesitated for even a moment. He’d utterly mesmerized her.
She would have followed him anywhere. Done anything.
"This isn't me," she whispered out loud.
"What's that?" Nora asked as she pushed the door open. She looked around the room, and when she didn’t see anyone, she frowned. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, of course." Regie busied herself with the paper towel dispenser. Just talking to myself in the mirror, like a deranged woman. She poured cold water over the disposable material and pressed it to her cheeks. "I just got a little overheated."
