Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

R egie relaxed further into Bolt's hold. It felt natural to trust this man, to let him protect her. But obviously, Laney hadn't told him that Regie had powers. If they became a true couple, would he accept her, or would she have to keep her darker side hidden?

His intense gaze searched her face. Once again, she lost herself in the bright green of his eyes. Some wild and untamed emotion flashed in their depths, and she knew his wolf peered out at her. It thrilled her. She lost herself in his gaze. How had she become so involved with this man so quickly? She could deny it all she wanted, but she'd fallen for this man and knew nothing about him. That wasn't true, though. She knew him as decent and protective.

She knew she could trust him.

"Are you okay?" His voice sounded gruffer than usual. The words reverberated through her own body. They heated her from the inside, melting her bones and limbs. For once, she told her brain to shut the hell up. For just one night, she wanted to just feel. For now, she'd forget about the make-believe part of their relationship and just concentrate on what she knew as truth: her feelings.

She stepped closer into his embrace and rested her head on his chest, just below his shoulder. "I'm shook up. But you make me feel safe. I mean…you and the team."

"I'm glad you trust us." He leaned cheek against the top of her head. "We won't let anything happen to you."

They continued dancing for a while. At five-foot-seven, and with heels on, she usually looked most dance partners in the eye. Bolt's height topped six feet and made her feel tiny. And some weird part of her lizard brain made that a turn on.

The song ended and Bolt pulled away, his eyes scanning the room. She missed the comfort of his arms and the heat of his body.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

His gaze cut to her briefly, but then he kept looking around the room. Arek probably spoke to him through the earpiece, but Regie couldn't hear anything.

The band announced they would take a quick break and the other couples on the dance floor mingled and chatted on their way back to the tables. The mayor approached them and Regie's breath caught when she realized she'd have to get into character as the fake fiancée.

"Regie," the middle-aged woman said as she reached them. "I don't believe I've met your companion." The dark-haired woman wore an off-white dress that draped beautifully over her toned body and highlighted her olive skin. The mayor practiced yoga and Pilates regularly, which contributed to her looking a decade younger than her actual age.

"This is my fiancé, Bolt Varg," Regie said, hoping Bolt had finished listening to the person speaking in his ear.

He immediately shifted his focus. "Madame Mayor, it's such a pleasure to meet you. Please call me Bolt."

The other woman's gaze did a slow scan from his face, down to his feet and back up again. A hot wave of jealousy flooded Regie, and she took Bolt's hand. The quick quirk of his lips showed he hadn't missed the mayor's blatant appreciation or Regie's blatant possessiveness.

"Fiancé?" the older woman exclaimed. She turned toward Regie. "You've kept that close to your chest."

Bolt pulled Regie's hand to his lips and kissed it. "We've been dating long distance since I worked abroad. Our engagement is recent. It took me a while to convince this beautiful lady to let me put a ring on her finger."

Even though she knew he played a role, Regie blushed for real when she saw the appreciation in his eyes. "This is our first public appearance since the engagement."

"Let me be one of the first to congratulate you," the mayor chirped, and pulled Regie in for a hug. She released her and then embraced Bolt for a much longer hug.

Regie rolled her eyes, which Bolt saw, and his lips quirked again.

Camera flashes went off as the mayor finally released Regie's fiancé—fake fiancé. Dang it. She had been doing so well, but now she forgot the fake part again.

The photographer asked them to pose for a few shots and the mayor insisted on putting Bolt between the two women. Probably because she wanted to be able to put her arm around him.

Finally, the camera people drifted away and so did the mayor. Bolt placed his hand on the lower part of her back and guided her toward their table.

"Wow, you met the mayor," Arek said as they reached their seats.

"She pinched my butt while we posed for pictures," Bolt said in a low voice as he pulled out a chair for Regie.

"Actually, that was me," she admitted.

Bolt froze and shot her an incredulous look. He threw his head back and laughed loudly. As she sat down in the offered chair, Bolt leaned down. "Beautiful and mischievous, I'll get you for that pinch later," whispered in her ear, his hot breath causing delicious shivers all through her body .

Nora and Ulf—who'd finally arrived—approached the table. The tall blond man pulled out a chair into which Nora elegantly slid. "We got nothing," she said. "If the stalker creep is still here, he's not currently obsessing about Regie. At least not in a way that's obvious visually."

Bolt swore. "When he so arrogantly texted Regie, I hoped we'd get him tonight."

"We'll get him," Arek said. "But I'd feel more comfortable if you and Regie left since we don't have eyes on him and he might still be in this location."

"Me too," Bolt answered, his gaze scanning the room again.

"Try acting less than a bodyguard and more like a besotted fiancé," Nora said. "If the creep is still in the room, it's obvious that you are in protective mode."

"It's not in his nature to turn that off," Ulf said.

Bolt shot him a look. "If your fiancée had just received a creepy text, wouldn't you be on alert?"

Ulf nodded. "Anyone would. Good point. Well presented."

Bolt shook his head at him and turned to Regie. "Let's go home."

She had to look away to hide how much she liked hearing him calling her apartment their home. "Let me say goodbye to Grandfather first."

"I'll go with you," he answered.

Nora stood. "Ulf and I will get your car ready."

They took their leave from the people at the table and went in search of the older man. He had just ordered a glass of whiskey when they found him.

"I thought alcohol didn't mix with your medication," Regie said.

"Stop babying me, Regina," he answered and from how carefully he formed the words, that wasn't his first drink of the evening.

She sighed inwardly. Something bothered her grandfather. Why wouldn't he share with her? "I'm just worried about you," she said.

"Don't be," he bit off and turned toward Bolt. "And why haven't you caught the stalker? Arek Varg told me the creep came to this party, and you did nothing."

Regie doubted Arek had used those words, but before she could reply, Bolt answered. "We're closing in on him, but you're right, tonight would have been the perfect opportunity to catch him. Unfortunately, he got away, or he's still here but hides his obsession well." His calm voice impressed her.

"I hired Heimdall because you are supposed to be the best," Grandfather railed at him. "Instead, I get mediocre service for inflated prices."

"Okay, that's enough," Regie interjected before the older man could continue his tirade. "You're not paying Heimdall's bill, the company does, and I'm very happy with their services so far."

A nasty expression flitted across Grandfather's face as he looked down at her hand that Bolt held in his. "Well, you would be. You have a stud in your bed for the first time in ages."

Anger rose in her chest. Whatever was wrong with the older man, it did not excuse him from being rude to Bolt. "I'm going to credit the alcohol with those words, but don't ever speak that way again. My private life is none of your business, not now and not in the future."

Her grandfather muttered something as he took another sip of the whisky.

More anger, and now hurt, swirled inside her. She didn't bother to say goodbye before she walked away from him, dragging Bolt behind her. He caught up quickly, though, and put his arm around her. "He's drunk and taking out his disappointment about the stalker not getting caught on you," he said. "It's Heimdall he's frustrated with, not you."

"That doesn't give him the right to be rude to you."

"You were protecting me?" he asked as he handed the coat check their tags.

She frowned. "He treated you very rudely. "

Bolt laughed again. "He insulted you more than me, Babe." He pushed a tendril of hair that had escaped her updo behind her ear and turned the gesture into a caress as his finger traced the shell of her ear and down her cheek. Her hormones stood at rapt attention. "I take being called a stud as a compliment."

She laughed to cover up how her libido responded to him as they collected their coats. "You would."

Bolt tilted his heads, his eyes getting the faraway look they had when he listened to someone through his earpiece. "Nora and the Viking have secured our town car and they'll follow behind in another vehicle as we make our way home."

That thrill she'd gotten last time he said the word "home" raced through her body again. Bolt put his hand on her lower back and her hormones tap danced with joy.

Fake , she reminded herself. This relationship is fake .

She kept repeating those words as they got in the car and headed toward the apartment.