The Lady Vanishes (29 page)

Milton twitched restlessly in his chair at the office. He hadn’t mentioned several things to her yet, like the banquet on Saturday night, or his brother’s death. He wanted to tell her, wanted her to know everything about him, but she was so skittish, only coming over to his house once this week. They had sex twice in the limo, when he’d insisted on taking her home, but it wasn’t enough. He was getting desperate.

Roland knocked briefly on the door and stepped inside his office, looking marginally more relaxed than he had for the past week, the lines of tension around his eyes not nearly as pronounced. They’d identified the portion of the new software that had been hacked and had checked and rechecked the security on the rest of the software. It still wasn’t good. Washington wasn’t pleased, but Roland was doing his best to convince them to continue with the project. Milton had faith that he would succeed. He’d never known Roland to fail at anything he really wanted, though Milton wasn’t sure why this particular government contract was so important to him.

“Hey, Roland.”

“Hey, Milton. I wanted to remind you about the banquet on Saturday. You’re coming, aren’t you?”

Milton shrugged. “Is Nick going?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe. I don’t really want to go.” That wasn’t true. He wanted to take Regina, buy her a beautiful designer dress, some sexy lingerie, and feel her up under the tablecloth while the speeches were going on.

Roland sat down in the chair. “What’s the deal? She still doesn’t want to be seen in public with you?”

Milton shoved away from his desk. “Some reporter ran a story in the
Globe
about the magic show and now I have a tail most of the time. I couldn’t even go to Harvard Square and practice my effects.”

“Have you talked to her about it again, tried to convince her that it won’t be so bad?”

“No,” Milton muttered, “but I’m picking her up tonight. I wanted to take her to the symphony, but she wouldn’t have it, so we’re going to the Museum of Fine Arts.”

“The museum is open tonight?”

Milton shrugged. “Not exactly.”

Roland chuckled. “How much did you donate?”

“A million and the Picasso.”

Roland whistled. “Damn. And all you asked for was the museum to yourself for an evening?”

“Well, I’m also sucking up to Laura Berkshire. I’m hoping she’ll sell me some of the works from the Jasper Johns collection.”

Jasper Johns had been a twentieth-century printmaker who’d experimented with design, illusion, and three-dimensionality. Milton was fascinated by his work, and particularly interested in one piece that showed a palm print of a hand over some text. He couldn’t wait to show it to Regina.

“I can talk to her. What about the show? Everything coming along?”

“Yeah,” Milton said with a nod. “The kids are actually pretty good. Blake has the costumes ready for the most part, and Celeste—Regina’s sister—had invitations printed and distributed.”

“You included everyone on the list I gave you?”

“Yes, it’s a week from Saturday.”

“I’ll be there. Are you going to the hospital today?”

Milton checked his watch. “Yeah, in a few minutes.”

“I’ll see you later, then.”

As Roland left the room, Milton stared at his computer screen, at the email he’d received that morning from his private investigator. “Located Carter Burke in Dubai. Please advise.”

Milton drummed his fingers on the desk. He had contacts, knew ex-military, former CIA types—mostly through Roland. What would Regina’s reaction be if he had her father brought in? She’d mentioned hating the legacy of shame that her father had left her with, the persecution her family had gone through. Would she stop worrying about being in the public spotlight if she no longer had to be ashamed, if her father was caught?

“Send me his location,” he typed quickly. “I’ll make arrangements for transfer.”

He hit send before he could change his mind.

THAT AFTERNOON,
Regina took a cab on her lunch hour and went to visit Rose-Lindsey. She hadn’t seen her in over a week and was eager to talk to her about Milton.

“So he hasn’t lost interest in you?” Rose-Lindsey’s knitting needles clacked, sounding nearly as satisfied as her tone.

“Don’t ‘I told you so’ me,” Regina warned. “I’m not in the mood.”

Rose-Lindsey raised a hand. “I wouldn’t dream of it. So have you lost interest in him?”

Walking to the window, Regina looked out at the street, at the gas lamps and wrought-iron benches of Rose-Lindsey’s neighborhood. Her cab was supposed to pick her up in ten minutes.

“No.”

“Come on, Regina, you have to give me more than that.”

Agitated, Regina felt her fingers twitch. When she realized it was one of Milton’s gestures, she froze, and went back to sit in the overstuffed armchair across from Rose-Lindsey.

“He’s addictive. Not just the sex, but everything. He makes sure I have food, that I get to work safely. He carried me to bed last week. He sends me flowers, gifts. He gave me winter riding gloves.”

“Practical, but I’d rather have diamonds.”

“I wouldn’t. He’s great. Weird. Sex-obsessed, impatient, hyperactive, and a general lunatic, but he’s great. I’ve never met a kinder or more curious person.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Reporters are already following him around for the benefit. I need to end it before I show up on the news.”

“Would that really be so bad?”

“Yes, you remember what it was like.” Regina touched her lip, traced the scar. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

“If Milton is as protective as you say, perhaps he would keep you safe.”

“I don’t want anyone to keep me safe. I want my life just the way it was.”

“Really? Then why start dating, why agree to sleep with him?”

Regina took a deep breath. “You said I should, that I should have a little fun.”

Rose-Lindsey laughed. “So it’s my fault, is it? I made you date the handsome magician, and now you’re screwed because you’re in love with him, but you don’t want to deal with what that means.”

“I’m not in love with him.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not,” Regina insisted stubbornly.

“Whatever you say.”

“I really hate you, you know that?”

“Regina Burke. You’ve never been a coward in your life. Don’t start now.”

Regina smiled at Milton when he picked her up outside the hospital, but it felt a little wobbly on her lips.

“Hey,” she greeted him as he stepped out of the limo, looking handsome in a charcoal-gray suit and a blue tie. He looked at her darkly, even a little dangerously. Regina swallowed. “I’m a little underdressed.” He hadn’t said where he was taking her, only that there wouldn’t be any cameras, and that she should dress comfortably. She’d chosen jeans and a deep purple blouse with a plunging neckline.

“Hi,” he said, his blue eyes searching her face. “Don’t worry. I have something for you back at my house.”

“Milton . . .”

“Come on.” He gestured for her to precede him into the limo. “It’ll be fine, I promise.”

Regina nodded and ducked into the limo, sliding across the seat to make room for him. She inhaled, thinking about the last time they’d ridden in it. She’d changed out of her scrubs at the hospital into the corset and garters he’d purchased for her, and tossed a simple blue sheath dress over the ensemble. He’d taken one look at her legs in the stockings and heels and dragged her into the backseat.

She was damp again just thinking about it, wondering what he had planned for her to wear tonight, the glittery lingerie he’d purchased for her, or something even more risqué.

He looked at her, a knowing grin on his face. “Bet I can read your mind,” he teased.

Regina fluttered her lashes at him. “I don’t know what you mean, handsome.”

“Ha.” He gestured, and a small box seemed to appear in his palm. It was a jewelry box.

Regina stared at it like it was a dead rat. “What’s this?” she managed.

“Something for you.”

“Milton . . .”

“Stop saying my name.”

“What?”

“I know I’m in trouble when you say my name like that.”

Regina couldn’t laugh. With a shake of her head, she took the box and opened it slowly. It was empty.

She looked up at him with a frown and he leaned forward and kissed her deeply, sliding his hands to the hairline at the base of her neck. Regina felt something cool and heavy settle around her neck.

Gasping, she reached for his wrist, but he kept kissing her, possessing her mouth with a desperation that she shared. It was as if he sensed the indecision that lurked in her mind. When he finally released her, her heart was racing.

She touched her throat. Pearls. Her neck was draped with them, several strands, all different lengths.

“Milton, I can’t accept these.”

“Shut up, Regina,” he said mildly. “They’re yours. I’m not taking them back.”

“But Milton—”

He cut her off with another kiss, sinking his tongue inside her.

When he pulled away this time, she was straining toward him, panting. “Damn it, Milton. Stop. Listen to me for a—”

He leaned close, as if to kiss her again, but instead he gagged her with something . . . his tie? She glanced down. His tie was no longer around his neck.

“I told you to stop saying my name,” he said fondly.

Regina started to reach up and untie the gag in her mouth and discovered her hands were tied with something else. She flexed her wrists, felt with her fingers at the knot. This was not one of the ones that was easy to untie. Still, she’d been paying attention. How had he done it? She continued to flex her wrists, trying to stretch the knot.

“Shane,” Milton called. “When we stop at the brownstone, would you mind opening the door? I’m going to have my hands full.”

“Sure, boss,” Shane said mildly, but Regina could hear the laughter in his tone. She narrowed her eyes, silently promising revenge, which seemed to amuse Milton.

When they pulled up to the brownstone, Milton picked up her purse and draped his thick wool coat over her shoulders, covering her bound hands.

“Mmmmtpmn,” she tried to say around the gag.

He tugged her out of the car by her bound hands and up the stairs, barely pausing as the doors opened. Once they were in the entryway, he grinned unrepentantly at her and crowded her against the wall, sliding his hands under her shirt and around her waist.

“I like it when you’re at my mercy,” he whispered, pressing himself against her, “but unfortunately, we have to get moving.” He slapped her ass. “I bought you something to wear. It’s upstairs on the bed.” He untied her wrists and the gag, eyeing her just a little warily as he released her.

Regina rubbed her wrists and gave him a thoughtful, narrow-eyed look. “You’re going to pay for that.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“And you’ll show me how to get out of that knot.”

“That’s actually a tough one, but sure. We’ll work on it tomorrow night if you want.”

“All right,” Regina agreed and stepped away from the wall. “You’re not coming upstairs?”

He smiled ruefully. “No. Not a good idea.”

“Should I bring you a new tie?”

He looked down at the bedraggled mess gagging her had made of the tie. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“Okay,” she said with a smile, and hurried up the stairs, her anxiety over the evening overcome by curiosity. What had he planned for her? She touched the pearls around her neck. They were beautiful, exquisitely matched, and creamy white.

When she reached the bedroom, she walked straight to the bed, which was neatly made, as always. On top of it was what she could only describe as blue satin bondage lingerie, all straps. A box lay on top of it, along with a note.

Regina left that where it was for a moment and looked at the dress he’d laid out for her. It was also blue satin with a wide boat neck that would leave her shoulders bare and show off the pearls he’d given her. There was a high slit up one thigh. He’d also bought her a pair of midnight-blue jeweled Christian Louboutin heels with delicate straps around the ankles.

She trailed a hand down the blue satin. It would feel amazing against her skin, especially with his hands touching her. Picking up the note, she interpreted the messy scrawl that passed for his handwriting.