The Lady Vanishes (22 page)

Milton’s phone beeped, and he checked his messages. Regina. She was leaving for her house.

Glaring at the screen in front of him, he called down to Shane. “Hey, Shane, Regina is leaving for her apartment. Can you pick her up there and bring her back to my house?”

“Sure, boss.”

“I’ll call her and explain.”

“All right, then.”

Milton called but she didn’t answer, probably because she was already on her bike, so he sent her a text.

Have to work late. Issue. Can I meet you at my house later? Shane will pick you up.

He didn’t think she’d answer right away, so he went to get some coffee. He wasn’t the only one in the break room. Nick was glaring at the blender like it had insulted his mother while he added ice, what looked like lettuce, pineapple, and some kind of milk. When Nick stopped drinking coffee for the day, he made healthy smoothies.

Milton thought he’d stick with coffee.

“Any luck on your side?” Milton ventured, though he could guess from Nick’s body language that there hadn’t been.

“No unauthorized access cards were used, but we did find a cleaning staff member who badged in twice in the same evening, so we’re chasing that down.”

“Let me know how it goes.”

“Yeah.” Nick jammed the high button down on the blender and drowned the room in noise.

Milton poured himself a cup of coffee and headed back to his office. He was close to tracking down where the hack had come from—he just needed another hour or two, he was sure of it.

When he got back to his desk, a text from Regina was waiting on his phone.

I’ll be waiting.

Cracking his knuckles, Milton set his fingers on the keyboard. He didn’t need any more incentive than that. He was going to hunt these bastards down.

ENJOYING THE BRIEF TIME ALONE
in her apartment until the limo arrived, Regina did the dishes and fed the cat before going back to her room to pack a few essentials like her toothbrush and contact lens solution. El Greco kept trying to make a bed out of her bag, climbing inside and purring.

She hadn’t packed much in the way of clothing—seriously? Why would she? The man would have her naked inside of five minutes if she didn’t strip down herself, but she had packed a pair of silky pajama bottoms trimmed in lace and a matching camisole along with a cocoa lounging sweater that wrapped around her like a cape.

With a sigh she threw in a romance novel as well. He’d said he had to work, so it was possible that she’d be waiting for a while.

El Greco jumped back on the bed and crawled inside her overnight bag again, making her sigh. Celeste had found him when Regina was still in med school. Regina had told her absolutely no pets, but even she hadn’t been able to resist the ridiculously ugly kitten with the gray eyes.

Her phone beeped. Shane was waiting for her downstairs.

“Come on, Greck, let’s get you a treat.” She gave him a liver treat in the kitchen and made sure he had plenty of water before she went back to collect her bag. Celeste would be home after two, so he wouldn’t be alone all night.

She made sure the doors were locked and jogged down the stairs. She’d decided to stay comfortable for the journey over to his house in jeans, her purple down jacket, and boots, but she’d selected a lacy black bodysuit with strategic ties to wear underneath. She’d never actually worn it, just seen it in the store and thought,
Now that screams, “I wanna get fucked.
” It had been her thirtieth birthday.

Shane was waiting for her at the bottom of the steps to her apartment, his tattooed bald head gleaming. His breath fogged the air around him, glowing orange-gold in the light from a nearby streetlamp.

“Hi, Shane,” she greeted him. “You didn’t have to get out of the warm car. I can open a car door by myself.”

“I never doubted it,” he assured her and held out his hand for her bag. “Take that for you?”

It was a tiny duffel bag that she usually used for her gym clothes. “I think I’ve got it,” she replied drily, and he nodded, seemingly oblivious to her mocking tone. “I’ll get the door for you, then.”

“Thank you,” she said with a shrug.

He opened the back door for her and she slid onto the warm leather seats with a sigh of pleasure, both for the soothing warmth and the memory of sitting in Milton Shaw’s lap while he sucked on her breasts. God, she wanted him again.

There was a white gift box on the seat next to her. Curious, she opened it, and gasped at the lingerie she found inside. She suspected that the one covered in diamonds and pearls cost more than a year’s worth of rent on her apartment.

She fantasized about what he would do to her on the ride to his house in Beacon Hill. Would he have her wear the corset and tie her up? Just the corset and garters, leaving her bare underneath for his fingers . . . and tongue . . . to wander? She’d wanted him to tie her up since that first time in the limo, when he’d managed to restrain her without her even seeing how.

What else will he do to me?
she wondered.

When they pulled up to the house, Shane explained, “The security system automatically recognizes Milton, but he’s going to have to open the door for you remotely. I called him a minute ago. He’s waiting for you.”

“Great. Thanks, Shane.”

“I’ll get the door.”

“No, I’ve got it.” Regina opened the back door of the limo before he could get all the way out, slinging her bag over her shoulder and grabbing the box. “Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, Dr. Burke,” he said over the top of the snow-crusted limo.

Regina climbed the steps, glancing around to make sure no one was watching her. She felt like everyone must know that she was about to go into Milton Shaw’s house and getting ready to be thoroughly and inexorably fucked.

She heard the click of the locks being undone and glanced up at the security camera. Somehow she knew that he was looking at her through the camera. She blew him a kiss before heading in and wasn’t surprised when her phone rang immediately.

“Hello, Milton,” she said, holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she closed the door.

“Hello, Regina,” he parroted, sounding almost amused. But there was an edge of frustration to his voice that he couldn’t quite hide.

“Work not going well?” she guessed.

“You could say that.” He laughed. “But mostly I just want you. I wish I could just say ‘Fuck this’ and come over there and strip off all your clothes and sink my dick straight into the bottom of that pussy.”

Oh. My.
Regina chuckled a little breathlessly. “Will I be waiting long?”

“Probably another hour. There’s a list of restaurants on the refrigerator that deliver. Just tell them my name, and they’ll bring it over.”

Regina wasn’t sure where the kitchen was, but she decided to head left since she’d been to the right, and it went down a long hall to his library. “Anything in particular that you want?” she teased.

“You naked and wet and waiting for me.”

Regina’s knees went to jelly, and she bit her lower lip. “I found the box in the back of the limo. Are these for me?”

“They are.” His voice had grown even huskier.

“You still owe me a bra.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “I have yours right here in my pocket. I like to rub it between my fingers.”

Swallowing, Regina found the kitchen and set her things down with relief.

“Milton, you better hurry up, or I’m going to strip down and pleasure myself.”

“Unless you’re videotaping it, I want you to wait for me. Will you do that?”

“I’ll wait. I’ll take off my clothes and walk around in nothing but the underwear I put on especially for you.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I’ll send you a picture,” she whispered naughtily, and hung up the phone. Grinning, she set it on the counter and opened his fridge. Celeste and Rose-Lindsey had been right, Milton Shaw was a lot of fun.

AS ROLAND DROVE HIM
to his brownstone nearly two hours later, Milton was barely able to contain his agitation, shuffling a deck of cards with absentminded ferocity.

“Relax, Milton, she’s not going anywhere.” Roland handled his Audi expertly, but Milton thought he was
not
going fast enough.

“Stop driving like Nick and get me there. You’d understand if you knew what she was wearing right now.”

“She’s just a woman.”

“Was it me who figured out that we were hacked by someone just outside Moscow, or was that someone else?”

“You did. Though I think we both know who was behind it, and that’s sort of your fault.”

“There’s no way Andrei or his father wrote that hack. They might have provided hardware and resources, but neither one of them has the brains for this.”

Roland didn’t argue because he knew it was true. The hack had come from someone who knew either Milton, Roland, or Nick very well. Andrei Polzin and his father were not the only ones involved, Milton was sure of it.

“Did they get everything connected to the new software?”

“Enough,” Roland snarled grimly. “I’ll have to go to D.C. next week and explain that we’ll need to rework the system. In the meantime, I need you in tomorrow early. We have to figure out who’s behind this.”

“I’ll be in early, but I’m going to the hospital after lunch.”

Roland looked impatient, but Milton cut him off. “I’m not sacrificing the kids. Not even for this.”

“You know what someone could do with that software, don’t you?”

Milton grimaced. The program was designed to read facial expressions and gestures, looking for one specific type of intent—intent to cause mass murder. The software, developed in conjunction with scientists in D.C., had learned from camera surveillance of thousands of incidents, including mass shootings, bombings, and other terrorist attacks, how to look for a specific set of facial cues that indicated imminent intent. Roland had worked for months to even get security access to the footage. D.C. was not going to be pleased with the breach, to put it lightly.

“What? Know what movie theaters and malls to avoid?”

“Use your imagination, Milton. If I’m a terrorist, and I know where someone is intending to blow people up, maybe I tag along, target first responders, add to the destruction and chaos, or maybe I can capitalize on it and rob a bank two blocks away. It’s valuable information, Milton.”

“I know,” Milton agreed. “But they didn’t get the whole thing, and we still haven’t gotten it working consistently. I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”

Roland swerved to a stop between two parked cars in front of Milton’s house. “Yeah. Sorry. This is just . . . not acceptable. We’ll need to review all our products and send out security updates.”

Milton nodded. “We’ll get it done, Roland. It’s going to be all right. See you tomorrow.”

Roland nodded, but his mouth was set in a grim frown. Milton stood on the curb and watched him go for a moment, then shook himself and headed for the front door.

The door opened as he came near, but he knocked anyway and called her name so he didn’t freak her out. “Regina, it’s me.”

“In your living room,” she called.

His living room didn’t get much use. Just past the kitchen, the living room was dominated by a massive stone fireplace that it shared with the library. You could see through one and into the other. The couch was deep blue and comfortable, though, and there was a TV, so she might have decided to watch something while she waited for him.

As he drew closer, he realized that he didn’t hear the TV, but there was a lamp turned on. She was curled up on a corner of the couch, an oatmeal-colored throw tossed over her lap. She was wearing glasses and reading.

It was far from the half-naked sexy greeting he’d been expecting, but a strange warmth unfurled in his chest. He wanted to sit next to her and lay his head on her shoulder and let her read to him. Horrible day. Beautiful woman. He felt both aroused and calm looking at her dark eyes behind her glasses, her dark hair tumbling down her shoulders.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

She set her book aside on the end table. “My eyes were gritty from my contacts. Sexy, huh?”