by Tina Donahue
After he released her, Regina wrapped her fingers around her cup. She asked again, “Do you work in this building?”
“On the third floor,” he offered, lying easily, giving her the name of one of the companies he’d passed on the way down here.
Nodding, Regina captured a bit of the drink’s whipped cream on her fingertip, then brought it to her mouth, licking it off.
The back of his neck tingled.
“Do you own the company?” she asked.
His attention remained on her mouth, the promise of its wet heat beyond her plump bottom lip. He imagined his tongue stroking her lips, parting them, seeking entrance. Once claimed, he pictured Regina offering even more of herself. On her knees, she’d take his cock into her velvety palms, lifting it to her mouth, drawing it inside, providing shelter, elation, completion. Sounding distracted, he said, “Yes.”
“What business are you in, Nikoli?”
The shameless images in his mind evaporated with her question. Stalling for an answer, his knowledge of this realm, he peeled off the white circular cover on the top of his cup and placed it to the side. A word popped in his mind, one he’d seen quite a few times on this plane. “Consulting.”
“On what?”
His pulse pounded. He thought back to things he’d seen here. “Computer software designs.”
Regina’s quick nod told Nikoli he hadn’t said anything strange.
She smiled. “My system could certainly use some expert help. Carly’s always complaining about how we need to move my accounting and other files into the twenty-first century. Sad to say, I’ve let her whine without really doing anything to fix the problem. I figured she could just live with it since she’s my only employee, kind of a combination bookkeeper-receptionist-secretary. But hey, if you know software, maybe you can give me a couple of tips on what I need to do.”
Sweat trickled down Nikoli’s back. He had no idea what to suggest. The systems on this side were centuries behind the advancements on his. “Of course, but I generally work with large firms with hundreds of employees.” To take the focus off himself, he asked, “What business are you in, Regina?”
“I’m a psychologist.” She ran her fingertip over the food she’d been eating. Small, delicate flakes fell from it onto the countertop. “I deal with anxiety disorders.”
He offered a nod of encouragement. “I admire anyone who helps others with their problems. Your work must be very rewarding.”
Appreciation for his comment radiated from her. “I certainly try to help all that I can. Unfortunately, I’m not always successful.”
He thought of Sazaar and was careful to keep himself from sounding worried. “It’s understandable that some can’t be helped.”
Regina offered a rueful smile. “I’ll have to remember that when I’m feeling badly about a failure. Now that I know you work here, perhaps I can ask you for a pep talk from time to time.”
He spoke without thinking. “A pep talk?”
“A word of support,” she amended.
“Of course.” With his full attention on her, he spoke from the heart, offering a future they didn’t have. “Always.”
A soft heat emanated from her, the kind a woman on this side showed when she wanted a man. “Are you on your way home, Nikoli?”
Surprised at her question, not knowing why she asked, he shook his head.
She glanced at his coat, confusion sparking in her expression as though she’d expected him to leave.
“There’s a matter I have to attend to,” he said, being deliberately vague, “but I still have work to do and planned to return shortly.”
Naked pleasure shone on her face.
It pleased him as nothing else ever had. “Are you going home?” he asked.
“I have one last patient in a few minutes.” She nibbled on the edge of her food, then returned it to the white square it had rested on—what her people called a napkin. Brushing crumbs from the side of her mouth, she said, “The appointment will be over in an hour. If you don’t have to work past seven fifteen or so, would you care to have dinner with me?” She lowered her hand to the table, waiting for his answer.
His mouth had already gone dry. Her words rang in his mind.
I have one last patient.
Sazaar. For weeks, he’d watched his mate arrive at Regina’s office, then struggle to disclose her abominable secrets. Thus far, Sazaar hadn’t revealed anything about Andris and the others. Tonight, she would. Nikoli sensed it. Feared it.
Once Regina learned what no human was meant to know, Sazaar would destroy her. She’d have no other choice. And then Regina would die, or she’d become—
“It’s okay,” she said, cutting into his thoughts, sounding both embarrassed and disappointed. “If you’re busy, I understand. I’m sure you’ve already made other plans. I realize we’re strangers. I just thought…” At last, her words faded away.
A mixture of sorrow and desire buffeted Nikoli. He spoke without pause. “I’d enjoy having dinner with you, Regina. I can’t imagine anything more pleasurable or a better way to stop being strangers.”
Her brows lifted in obvious surprise, and then the corners of her eyes crinkled slightly with her wide smile. “Wonderful. Then it’s a date.”
One they’d never experience. Denying sadness, caught up in the wonder of her joy, he also smiled. “Yes. A date.”
She reached past him for the metal container containing the napkins.
“Allow me,” he said. Pulling several free, Nikoli handed them over, his fingers touching, lingering on hers. Regina’s color heightened. Heat poured through him.
“Would you like me to meet you at your office, or do you want to come to mine?” she asked.
The warmth receded. His mind raced, struggling for an appropriate answer. “My office is behind a secured entrance.” He continued to describe his laboratory on E2. “You couldn’t get past the hall without proper access. I wouldn’t want to ask you to wait outside the door for me. Nor would I want to embarrass your patient by showing up if the individual hadn’t yet left. Perhaps meeting down here would be best, at the inside entrance near the elevators.”
She balled up the napkins and placed them on the table. “Seven fifteen, then, here.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Her smile grew luminous, unlike any Nikoli had seen during the weeks he’d observed her. A smile meant for him.
One he’d never see again.
Regina had no idea what faced her in the coming hour and through the rest of this night.
Chapter Three
Alone in the elevator, Regina surrendered to a happiness she’d rarely experienced, smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. Tonight she’d have a momentary end to her gnawing loneliness. Within the next few hours, she’d learn everything she could about Nikoli.
A man unlike any she’d ever met. So compelling, he’d defeated Regina’s usual caution around males. Already he seemed more than a new acquaintance, closer to a friend, providing a level of contentment and safety no amount of money or career recognition could match. In him, she’d seen intelligence and kindness.
Nikoli, her thoughts whispered, savoring the sound of his name, appealingly foreign, slightly mysterious, the same as his appearance and accent. So unlike her father, Josh Page, the all-American male whose boyish good looks and crooked grin had seduced her mother into putting down her guard and believing his lies about loving her. Whose casual abandonment had changed the woman’s life and that of his daughter’s forever.
Regina sensed Nikoli wasn’t a player like her father. She’d seen his genuine interest in her and what appeared to be his craving for intimacy, an emotion most men fled. Nikoli seemed to require it.
The elevator dinged.
Regina glanced at her watch. Only ten minutes remained before her last patient arrived. She’d been so caught up in her final moments with Nikoli, she’d been reluctant to leave the coffee shop.
At her suite, Regina unlocked the
door and hurried past the reception area into her office, her heels tapping sharply against the hardwood floor. Rounding her desk, she reached down to open the bottom drawer and stopped short at what she saw—what wasn’t possible. Her fingers tightened around the change she’d planned to return to her purse.
She’d left the black leather bag in the bottom desk drawer.
It now rested on her chair’s seat.
What in the hell was it doing there? Pulse jumping, Regina took in the area to the right of her, the left and behind, expecting to see an intruder.
No one else was in here.
On unsteady legs, she hurried into Carly’s area and grabbed her umbrella from the stand, ready to use it as a weapon. She searched beneath the desk, then went to the suite’s front door to see if someone had broken the lock.
How could they? She’d just used her key to come inside.
Dropping her umbrella back in the stand, she returned to her office and stared at her purse. Never had she left it on her chair. So how had it gotten there?
Unsettled, she recalled her earlier sensation of someone watching her, the warmth it produced rather than unease. Again, she glanced about hurriedly, the ends of her hair slapping her neck, her mind trying to reason this out. As far as she could determine, nothing else had changed in here since she’d left.
Prints of soothing pastoral scenes graced the room’s beige walls. A richly detailed Persian rug lay undisturbed beneath her wing chair and the one she reserved for patients. Crossing the room, Regina went to her mahogany bookcase and pressed the hidden button. A drawer slid out containing patient files. She searched the contents, relieved none was missing.
Returning to her purse, she opened it and found all of her credit cards still there, along with personal items—lipstick, a comb, tissues, keys to her house and car. She counted the cash in her wallet and frowned. Three twenties and four one-dollar bills. There should have been four twenties and eight one-dollar bills. Rubbing the crisp currency between her thumb and forefinger, she tried to separate them, to locate the missing ones.
They weren’t there.
Had she miscounted her cash this morning? Had it been yesterday when she’d had the extra bills? She couldn’t recall.
Regarding her desk, Regina tried to remember if she’d put her purse in there after she’d taken out the ten for the coffee shop. Had she even lifted the bag from the drawer?
The memory refused to return. She thought back to how agitated she’d been after Carly had left, wanting to escape the office, to avoid being alone and having to think about the heat that had suffused her, the feeling of someone watching.
With startling clarity, the sensation returned. This time, apprehension, not heat, snaked down Regina’s spine. What in the hell was happening to her? Sensing movement, fearing it, she turned.
In her outer office stood her last patient of the day—Ms. Smith.
When had she come inside? Why hadn’t she made any sound? Forcing down a swallow, Regina stared at the young woman.
“She doesn’t look like a Smith,” Carly had said.
In her late twenties or early thirties, she wore solid black, her expensive wool pants and merino sweater draped beautifully on her lithe figure. Long wheat-colored hair flowed in lustrous waves over her narrow shoulders. Coupled with flawless ivory skin and delicate features, she had the exquisite looks of a top model or a film star.
The anguish in her dark, almond-shaped eyes ruined the perfection. She pressed her full lips into a grim line as though to keep from revealing her secrets.
Regina could see they were tearing her apart.
Seconds ticked by. Her patient didn’t move, didn’t speak. She didn’t even seem to breathe.
“There’s something deeply weird about her,” Carly had said. “Something I can’t put my finger on.”
On the side of her slender throat, just above her sweater, the young woman’s skin was so translucent, blue veins were clearly visible beneath the surface. She appeared unbelievably fragile. Not quite real or human.
Regina’s heart continued to thump. Despite it, she forced herself to remain calm, speaking as professionally as she could. “Ms. Smith.”
Swiftly, almost guiltily, the young woman averted her attention from Regina as though she just realized she’d been staring.
“More than a few times, I saw her staring at me when she didn’t think I’d catch her.”
“Do you notice how she never looks at you directly?”
Regina did now. Sudden dread raced through her. Just as quickly, she suppressed it, telling herself that her patient was timid, not dangerous, anxious, not psychotic. Nor could she be a thief, breaking in here and taking the twenty, not with her obvious cowardice. The bill hadn’t been there to begin with. Regina figured she must have spent it yesterday and simply didn’t recall.
“Please come inside,” she said, trying to sound encouraging.
The young woman moved with caution into the inner office.
Regina closed her door to provide more privacy and assurance that no one would overhear whatever they discussed during the coming hour.
“Have a seat,” Regina offered, gesturing toward it.
Ms. Smith perched on the edge of the supple leather. Hands clasped, fingers clenched, she was a study in panic. Faint beads of perspiration dotted her temples and forehead. All the blood had drained from her face, leaving her complexion a ghastly color, accentuating the veins on the edge of her jaw.
At the young woman’s obvious suffering, compassion welled in Regina. A response she hadn’t exhibited for her earlier patient, having allowed her personal feelings to compromise treatment. Meeting Nikoli tonight had changed that, giving her a measure of hope and peace, bringing her back to her purpose.
“I admire anyone who helps others with their problems.”
Regina’s unease faded at his remembered words, the sensual allure of his glance and touch. Although she was eager to see him again, she genuinely wanted to be here, doing her best to relieve some of her patient’s symptoms. Sitting across from her, Regina asked, “How was your week?”
The girl bowed her head. Blonde tresses swung forward, hiding her lovely face.
After several moments of silence, Regina murmured, “Can you tell me what you did? How it went?”
Rocking her body, she moaned faintly. “Not good. Not good.”
Silence followed her words, the quiet emphasizing the distress Regina had heard in her comment and odd accent.
“She talks funny,” Carly had said.
Without warning, an image of Nikoli filled Regina’s mind. She had no idea why, until she recalled how he’d spoken. What he had told her.
“My parents emigrated from a small isolated village in Romania.”
With new curiosity, Regina regarded her patient. She didn’t have the foreign features and coloring that Nikoli did, but it was clear from her speech that she hadn’t been born in this country.
Was it possible she hailed from the same region as Nikoli? Had a church group sponsored numerous families from the area because of religious or political turmoil and relocated them in Seattle?
Regina waited to hear her patient speak again, to determine whether her accent and Nikoli’s were similar. The girl’s halting breaths filled the silence.
At last, Regina said, “You’ve had a difficult week. What happened?”
Unclasping her hands, she covered her face with her fingers. “You don’t want to know. I can’t tell you.”
Her obvious agony disquieted Regina, pushing aside her musings about accents. “Why not?”
“They’ll know.” Stark terror reverberated in her words.
Regina regarded her. To whom was she referring? Family members, friends? Was she worried they’d find out what she was going through and would berate her for seeing a therapist? What they would consider a weakness?
Speaking quietly, Regina said, “Whatever you tell me here is in confidence. I would never divulge anything to�
�”
“You don’t understand,” she interrupted, her shout hard with rage, naked, unexpected. “They’ll know. They always know. They’re always watching and listening.”
A thread of fear snaked through Regina. What was she talking about?
“There’s something deeply weird about her.”
Unnerved, Regina wondered if she’d misinterpreted the results of the woman’s psychological tests and her anxiety, missing signs that she was spiraling into paranoid schizophrenia and was now hearing voices. Were the demons in her mind telling her they knew her every move and thought? Were they telling her to harm others?
Regina’s skin crawled. As much as she could, she kept her mounting concern from being obvious. “Who are they, Ms. Smith?”
She released a strangled sob. The chair creaked with her agitated rocking. “I thought they wanted me, that they cherished me like those on my side never could. When Andris first found me, he said he loved me. But when I became one of them, everything changed.”
One of them? Was her patient also having visual hallucinations, creating friends and lovers that didn’t exist? Increasingly concerned, Regina chose her next words carefully. “Are you afraid to tell me what’s going on because they’re here?”
“Here?” she parroted, then drew her shoulders into herself. “No.” She cocked her head as though listening. Sagging into the arm of her chair, she cried, “I was able to get away tonight as I have in the past, but eventually they’ll see the truth on my face. They’ll know.”
Her explanation, though vague and distressed, convinced Regina the young woman wasn’t delusional. Whoever these people might be, they didn’t exist in her thoughts. Most likely they were from outside her ethnic circle, thus the odd phrasing about those on her side and her becoming one of them.
Realizing she’d been holding her breath, Regina spoke on a relieved sigh. “Who’s Andris?”
The girl stopped rocking. Her fingers curled away from her face, forming tight fists. “I can’t tell you.”
