The Lady Vanishes (5 page)

The man smiled, a flash of white teeth in the dark. “I’m sorry I interrupted.”

Regina smiled ruefully back at him. “I’m not.” She wasn’t sure she wouldn’t have panicked, kick or no kick.

An awkward silence fell between them. He was staring at her again, his eyes lingering on her mouth.

“Do I know you?” Regina asked, her voice much huskier than she intended. “How did you know Andrei?”

“My company has done some work for his father.” He took a step toward her. “You’re really beautiful.”

Regina swallowed. His eyes were an indistinct color in the dim light, his thick brows casting shadows. He had a bold nose and a strong jaw.
The magician.

She gasped, and he paused. She hadn’t realized he was still moving forward, almost as if he were drawn to her. “You’re Shaw the Magician,” she accused.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and nodded. “I am.”

Regina thought he seemed disappointed that she’d recognized him. Wondering why, she moved closer. “How did you know he was dangerous? Who are you?”

He glanced down at her and seemed to realize that she was standing next to him. He didn’t say anything, but he seemed to be holding his breath. Curious, Regina moved a fraction nearer. The wild part of her that had been repressed for so long lifted its head, and instead of pushing it back, pushing it down, Regina took Rose-Lindsey’s advice and did what she would have done when she was fifteen.

Stepping even closer, she laid a hand on his chest. He worked out; the muscles beneath her fingers were solid. She shivered. She’d heard magicians had to keep themselves in shape for their tricks; they had to be flexible, strong, able to endure pain and discomfort.

She swallowed and went to her tiptoes, pausing with her lips near his mouth. “Thanks, magician.” She kissed one of his lightly stubbled cheeks. His breath escaped in a rush, and he seized her, moving her backward into an alcove, deeply shadowed, with a small ledge, like it had once housed a payphone.

He pushed her onto the ledge, his fingers gripping her sides urgently, but he paused, swallowing. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his strong throat, and her eyes followed the motion. He smelled like expensive cologne, clean male sweat, and faintly of burnt matches.

“Shit,” he said in a low, rough voice, his fingers flexing against her skin. “You’re dangerous.”

She noticed that he hadn’t moved to release her, but a small wicked part of her, long buried, found the situation . . . alluring. She found herself wanting to kiss this man who performed tricks for children and thought she was beautiful. He might be a charming scoundrel, but she wasn’t trying to marry him—she just wanted to have a little fun. A little fun, while a restaurant full of people, including her sister and her date, waited for her.

“Don’t you have a date waiting for you?” she asked him, thinking about the blond woman.

He winced and started to step back, but she gripped his shoulders.

His eyes darkened again, and he moved forward willingly. “Yes,” he said. “I’m behaving like a complete dick.”

Regina liked that he was willing to admit it, liked the loose, warm feeling running through her body. God, she hadn’t felt this way in forever, since before her father disappeared, since she’d had a crush on a lifeguard in Martha’s Vineyard when she was fifteen.

She didn’t say anything, just lifted her face. “Just for a few minutes.”

He obliged, bending to take her mouth. He sipped at her lips, tasting her, his rough fingers cupping her jaw while his thumbs stroked her cheekbones.

“You have the most beautiful mouth,” he told her.

Regina felt beautiful and powerful. Their eyes met, and he moved closer still, crowding her against the wall and his hard body.

Regina gasped, then gasped again. She felt out of control, deliciously out of control, kissing a complete stranger in the darkened alcove of a crowded restaurant.

“I could kiss you all night. Come home with me,” he urged.

She leaned closer, so that more of her weight was against him, and slid her fingers into his hair. She forgot everything except the urgency running through her. Breaking off another kiss to take a breath, she gasped, “No way.”

“Jesus,” he breathed. “That’s so mean.”

Regina pulled back, smiling a little. “You knew that was a long shot.” He shook his head, looking so woebegone that she laughed again, patting his cheek. “You’re hot, and you’re a little crazy, but I have to get back to my table. Let me down.”

He did, stepping back with a small shudder and letting her slide down the length of him while her skirt rode up between them. She left it that way for a moment, enjoying how his hard, rough hands covered the cheeks of her ass. She shimmied, rubbing herself against him, and he groaned again.

“I have to see you again. When can I see you again?”

Regina swallowed. She didn’t know. Was he talking a date or fucking? Fucking sounded good, but she didn’t really know anything about him other than that he liked to play magician and he worked with creepy Russians.

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. She needed to clear her head, to think. “You’ll be at the hospital next Friday, right?”

“I was hoping for tomorrow,” he murmured, smoothing her dress down over her hips, “but I’ll settle for Friday, I guess.”

“Big of you,” she said sarcastically.

He looked down his rather large nose at her. “You have no idea.” He took one step away and said, “See you soon, Dr. Burke.”

ANDREI WAS NOWHERE
to be seen when Regina returned to the table, but Celeste was eating her dinner and talking to Corbin, who seemed thrilled at the turn of events.

Regina took a deep breath and straightened her dress, hoping she didn’t look as disheveled as she felt.

“Sorry to take so long,” she murmured. “I’m not feeling well.” She took her seat, hoping the flush didn’t show on her cheeks.

Corbin looked concerned, whereas Celeste just seemed relieved. “Andrei said he had to leave, a business meeting.”

Reminded of that asshole, Regina frowned and turned on Celeste. “You won’t be agreeing to see him again, right? He’s dangerous, Celeste.”

Celeste looked faintly mutinous, but then her attention was caught by someone behind Regina, someone coming from the direction of the bathroom. She grinned broadly. “Oh, hell yeah. No one told me he was coming in tonight.”

Regina turned to look, and the magician caught her eye. Regina didn’t remember breathing. Time seemed to slow as he stalked past, his gaze never leaving her, his obvious desire blazing on his face.

Next to her, Celeste said, “Well, well. Looks like someone’s caught Mr. Shaw’s eye.”

Hearing the faint irritation in Celeste’s voice, Regina turned to her. “Mr. Shaw?”

Celeste glanced at Corbin, who was studiously cutting his steak. “The billionaire. Milton Shaw. He and his two college friends started Accendo, that software company.”

Regina had heard of Accendo; the company had just donated a new medical record and security system to the hospital. They would be installing it next week. Milton Shaw . . . Shaw the Magician. She’d just let a billionaire with strong ties to the hospital make out with her in a restaurant.
Shit.
This was a nightmare. She wasn’t about to get involved with someone like that, someone who could damage her career, drag her into the public eye, and basically fuck her life six ways to Sunday. She’d worked too hard to get where she was to throw it away because some guy was hot.

It figured that the first time she behaved irresponsibly in years it would bite her in the ass.

By the time Milton returned to his table, Michelle was tapping her manicured nails on the tablecloth. He couldn’t help but compare her to Regina Burke, whose nails had been clean and smoothly rounded, but not manicured.

“I’m sorry, Michelle.” He sat down again, and signaled the waiter. He thought he’d better end the date before it got any worse.

Michelle shifted in her chair. “That’s all right. Are you feeling okay?” She seemed to be searching for some excuse to forgive him.

Once again, this had never happened before he had money; women in college hadn’t given him one chance to prove he was a good date, much less three. The waiter arrived with the check, and Milton handed him his card without looking at it.

As soon as the waiter left, Milton spent a few moments fiddling with the coins in his pocket before making a decision.

“I’m sorry, Michelle,” he said, “but I don’t think this date is going well. You’re great, but I’m afraid I’m not interested.”

She blinked for a full three seconds before she regained her composure. She sat back with an unsteady laugh. “Well, that was direct.”

Milton shifted. He’d been told this before. He didn’t know how to be any other way. “It seems better than pretending.”

She took a sip of her wine. “Well, I can always get a taxi.” She gathered her purse, and Milton stood just as their waiter returned to the table.

“Can you get the lady’s coat for her, please?” he asked as he took the receipt out of the man’s hands.

“Of course, Mr. Shaw,” the young man replied. He returned in a few minutes holding a black cashmere coat with a satin lining.

Milton left the signed tab on the table and accepted the coat, helping Michelle into it.

“Well,” she said, turning around, “thank you for dinner, I suppose.”

Milton nodded.

She left with her head held high, her high heels clicking on the floor. Milton stood with his hands in his pockets and watched her go until Alexis approached him with his own coat.

“Date didn’t go well?”

Milton accepted his coat and gave her a half smile. “What gave you that idea?”

She smiled. “Have a good evening, Mr. Shaw.”

Milton put on his coat but paused, wanting to at least stop by Regina Burke’s table one more time. He took a step in that direction and realized the staff was surreptitiously watching him. If he showed interest in her, one of them might, even as well trained as they were, snap a photograph that would be plastered in the society section of the
Boston Globe
by tomorrow.

Turning on his heel, he left the restaurant quickly, texting Shane as he walked to meet him out front. Shane, responsive as always, pulled up to the curb as Milton stepped outside.

“That was fast,” Milton commented as he slid into the backseat.

Shane made a noise that could have been agreement and pulled away, heading back to Milton’s house.

Sitting in the backseat, Milton looked up Regina Burke again, just to see a picture of her, just to make sure the image he had of her in his head even came close to reality. It did, and it didn’t. The photograph failed to capture the subtle glow of her skin, the flash of her dark eyes, the delicate peak of her top lip. He pictured her dressed in a beaded and spangled costume, her perfect mouth painted a deep crimson red.

He hadn’t thought she would be willing to do something like that—not at first, not when she was so straitlaced—but then, she’d let him kiss her in the restaurant. She might be willing. Thoughts of how willing she might be entertained him on the way home, so much so that he was startled when the limo came to a stop in front of his home.

Milton thanked Shane as he left the car, tugging his coat a little closer as he jogged up the steps. The doors unlocked automatically as he approached, and he hurried inside.

Only one dim light glowed in the hallway—he’d forgotten to turn on the rest, but he ignored the dark, stripping off his coat and scarf and tossing them carelessly over the balustrade. His housekeeper would put them away, shaking her head at his carelessness.

Instead of going upstairs to his bedroom, however, he headed to the left, through a large formal dining room and into the kitchen, which was dominated by an enormous stone fireplace. He grabbed an apple and some cheese from the Sub-Zero refrigerator and headed upstairs. He hadn’t eaten much at the restaurant, in between dealing with Russian a-holes and that gorgeous woman.

The third floor had been servants’ quarters at one point, but he’d had the rooms made into one large workshop. It was here that he, Nick, and occasionally Roland would design and build new tricks, new illusions, usually just for their own amusement, or for some project of Milton’s.