Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

A s 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 inquiring look as if to ask if she needed help. Regie waved to him but didn't stop walking.

As the door to the restroom closed behind her, the volume of the music instantly muted. She quickly checked the four stalls of the room, but there didn't appear to be anyone else in there with her. Regie walked over to the sink and put her clutch 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. She'd never done anything this daring before. 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. She'd only noticed 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 frowned when she didn't see anyone. "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."

The other woman met her gaze in the mirror and quirked an eyebrow. "Out on the cold balcony?" She gestured to Bolt's jacket, still draped over Regie's shoulders. "Maybe you should take that off."

Heat crawled up Regie's cheeks. The cold paper towel had no effect. "Yeah...I...um," she mumbled.

Nora chuckled. "It's okay. If I'd brought a hunky date, I'd be out on the balcony for some private time too."

"It wasn't like that." Regie stopped. It was exactly like that and much more. She studied the other woman. Nora had a relationship with Ulf now, but had she and Bolt been more than colleagues at some part? A sharp pain jabbed her in the middle of her ribs at the thought. She had no right to resent Nora if she and Bolt had been together in the past, but she did.

Regie and Bolt were just pretend. Weren't they? She hadn't pretended when they'd been together outside.

Had he?

Did his behavior fit in with the role he played? If so, that was all kinds of messed up on so many levels.She threw the paper towel in the waste bin with more force than necessary.

"There seems to be some crud on the jacket," Nora said, brushing her hand down Regie's back. "What is that?"

Regie slid the garment off her shoulders and swung it around so she could see the back. Dust covered the black fabric. "I don't know," she lied. The wall Bolt had pushed her up against must have been dirty.

Nora threw her a look, but didn't say anything. Instead, she got a dry paper towel and used it as an impromptu lint brush. "There," she said when most of the dust had been cleared off the cloth. "It's not perfect, but it's good enough."

"Were you and Bolt ever a couple?" Regie blurted out.

"No," Nora shot her a look. "Gross. That would be like making out with my brother." She lifted her chin, her lips stretched in a sexy grin. "I have my hands full with Ulf."

Regie looked down and fiddled with her clutch. "I'm sorry. I'm an idiot for being possessive of him. I know all of this is only pretend." As much as she wanted it to be different, she needed to get that straight.

Nora paused until Regie looked up at her. "Appearing to be a couple is one thing. Doing things a couple would do is another." She tilted her head. "Did he do something that made you feel uncomfortable?"

Regie blushed again. "No, nothing like that."She'd been very comfortable. Way too comfortable. And satisfied. Very satisfied.

Nora nodded. "I didn't think he would. Bolt is a stand-up guy. I love him like a brother, but I still needed to check." She took a step toward the door. "Are you ready to go back out there?"

"You go ahead. I'll catch up with you." She needed a few more minutes to herself.

"Actually, you can't be on your own. That's why I followed you in here. One of us needs to be with you at all times." She opened the door. "But as long as nobody else enters, I'll just be right outside. Take as long as you need." With an apologetic smile, she left. A burst of loud music reached Regie's ears before the door closed again.

She took a deep breath to center herself. For just a moment, she'd forgotten about the stalker and the death threats.

Bolt had made that happen, had made her forget.

She bit her lip, not sure how she felt about him having that much power over her. And what if it had been just a game of pretending for him? He'd been attracted to her—she'd felt his erection—but did he feel anything else for her?

How did she feel about him?

She couldn't unravel all the complications of that thought tonight.

She needed to focus on tonight's original purpose, which was to appear with Bolt in public and announcing him as her fiancé. She'd pose for more pictures with him and formally introduce Bolt to the journalists and photographers.

She moistened another paper towel and ran it under her eyes to remove some mascara flecks and then reapplied her lipstick and straightened her dress. The raw silk material already had a slight crinkle, and so the wrinkles she and Bolt had added didn't stand out too much.

She studied herself in the mirror again. With only the help of paper towels and lipstick, she'd done as much as she could to improve her appearance.

Her skin still looked flushed.

Hopefully, people would think it came from being excited about the engagement and not suspect that the dewy glow had been caused by her fake fiancé sexually satisfying her in public. Well, they'd been secluded on the balcony, but almost in public .

A giggle rose in her throat, but she forced it down.

Time to be serious. To be business-like.

To be the Regie her grandfather expected.

Somehow, that woman felt like a stranger now, though. She didn't want to go back to being in control all the time. She liked this new Regie who gave into impulses and followed her heart.

But it couldn't last .

Too many people depended on her. She couldn't afford to indulge in whims and desires.

Regie took a few deep breaths, picked up her clutch, and opened the door.

Music assaulted her ears again.

Nora waited outside, just like she'd said, and together, the two women walked back to their table, Regie carrying Bolt's jacket.

He stood as she approached, and she handed him the garment, which he pulled on, back over his broad shoulders.Regie fisted her hands to keep them from stroking the jacked in place.

"It had dirt on it," Nora said with a glint in her eye, "but we got it all brushed off."

Bolt shot her a wry look. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Nora said in a sing-song voice. "I'm going to take a walk around the room." She wandered off.

"Everything okay?" Bolt asked, pulling a chair out for Regie.

She sat. "Yeah, I'm fine." They were the only two people at the table. "Where are the others?"

"Your grandfather is chatting with someone he knows at another table. Arek and Laney are still dancing." He took her hand. "You sure you're okay?" His gaze searched her face. "I feel like I kind of jumped you there. We should probably talk more about what you just learned about me." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I just needed to touch you. I've been going crazy since we kissed at the Palace of Fine Art."

Him and her both. Regie nodded, touched by his concern. "I'm fine, honestly." Her cell phone vibrated, and she retrieved it from the clutch in her lap, flipping it over so she could see the screen.

I like that dress on you. The text came from a blocked number.

She stifled a gasp, but Bolt instantly straightened in his chair.

"What?" he asked, grabbing her hand so he could see the screen too but keeping the device in her lap.

Another message appeared. But you should be careful about who you allow to hand-fuck you in plain view.

Bolt leaned in, his mouth close to her ear. "Don't say anything. Don't look around the room. Look engrossed in what I'm telling you right now. Even better if you smile." He gave her a quick peck on her cheek. The gesture made it possible for her to breathe again. "This guy is probably watching you right now, looking for a reaction to his messages. We want to piss him off so that he reveals himself. Okay?" He squeezed her hand and continued to hold it.

"Okay," Regie whispered back, trying to smile, but it felt more like a grimace.Her heart pounded in her chest. Receiving anonymous messages angered her, but knowing he watched her in real time, majorly creeped her out.

Tapping his ear, Bolt spoke quietly. "Our stalker is here tonight. Or at least somewhere where he can see us. He just sent Regie a text message." He listened to something she couldn't hear. "Got it," he said and then squeezed her hand again. "The team's on it. We're going to continue this intimate conversation as if we're completely engrossed in each other. You haven't seen the text message yet. In fact, you're so infatuated with me that you've forgotten to check your phone all night. That's the kind of effect I have on women, Babe."

She felt him smile against her ear. "A little full of yourself, aren't you?" Her voice shook a little.

"It's not arrogance if it's true." He leaned back and gazed into her eyes, tucking stray strands of her hair behind her ear.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't keep from smiling.

His eyes became distant again, and he nodded. She figured he listened to whoever spoke in his earpiece. Arek? Nora?He focused on her again, his face serious.

"What's happened?" she asked. "What do I need to do?"