The Lady Vanishes (15 page)

When they finished their presentation, only Milton remained on stage. He gestured and a bouquet of flowers appeared in his hand.

“What do you say, Dr. Burke? Will you help us?” He wasn’t begging. He was daring her.

Regina sighed, wondering if he was going to throw the bouquet at her. “Yes, Shaw the Magician, I suppose I will.”

The kids cheered—even Chuck, who still seemed to be trying to decide if he was too cool or too old to be included in this little crew.

“Thank you, Dr. Burke.” He bowed, and the flowers turned into a bag of dog treats. “And now—for the kids—Simon the Wonderdog.”

From behind Regina, an older woman with short gray hair and dark brown eyes was approaching with a golden retriever in a harness. A service dog—one seen often at the hospital.

The kids cheered and went to pet him while Cathy, his handler, bent down to manage them so they didn’t overwhelm the pup.

Regina found herself standing alone, watching the kids play with the dog.

Milton joined her after a moment, coming to stand behind her, still carrying the dog biscuits. “Magic never wins out over dogs.”

“That is magic,” Regina replied, smiling as the dog wagged its tail enthusiastically.

Milton nodded. “Thank you,” he said. Regina had to assume that he meant for agreeing to help with the benefit.

Regina started to make some cutting remark about him just wanting to get into her pants again, but she bit it back. Whatever his main reason, he did care about the kids, and the benefit would help them. It was reason enough for her to participate.

She let her eyes run over his profile, the strong lines of his forehead and nose, the curve of his lips. His hair was messy again, standing up in thick, unruly patches, and she found herself wanting to smooth it down.

“You’re welcome,” she said finally, and looked away. She was very much afraid that if the goal of his little benefit was to get her into bed, he’d wasted his efforts. Sometime during the display, she’d decided she was going to sleep with him, anyway.

MILTON WAS HAPPY
to see Nick and Blake arrive as the kids were petting the dog. Nick was carrying a cooler and a backpack, his face set in a calm mask. Blake was wearing jeans and a green sweater, her long hair braided. They were walking just far enough apart for Milton to think they were still annoyed with each other.

Milton gestured to a nearby table with orange plastic chairs. Nick set everything down on the table while Milton made the introductions. “Dr. Regina Burke, this is my business partner, Nick Cord, and one of our good friends, Blake Webster. They’ve both helped with the shows here at the hospital.”

“Hey, Nick.” Chuck broke off from petting the dog and wandered over. “How’s it going, man?” Man and boy performed a complicated series of hand gestures that seemed to take five minutes.

“Pretty good, Chuck. Have you been practicing your knots?”

“Yeah.” Chuck dug out several pieces of rope from the pocket of his green robe. “I practiced the French whipping on the frayed end, the double-loop, and the monkey’s fist.”

Milton watched Nick examine the ropes carefully, giving the effort 100 percent of his attention. Nick was good with kids, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Catching the fond look in Blake’s eye, Milton smiled.

“They look good, Chuck,” Nick pronounced finally. “We’ll have to go over a few more.” Nick then turned to Regina, who’d gotten distracted by the kids petting Simon.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Regina Burke,” he said, grabbing her attention. Holding out his hand for her to shake, he didn’t smile—Nick rarely smiled fully—but he was looking at her with approval.

Milton found himself grinning. He’d told Nick she was beautiful.

Blake did smile fully at Regina. “It’s nice to meet you finally. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Regina’s lips quirked and she shot Milton a glance. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Milton hoped Blake didn’t mention the practice session with the bra—somehow he thought he would lose his cool factor if she knew he’d had to practice that one first. “Why don’t we sit down and we can talk about the plans?”

Regina looked at her watch. “Sorry, I have to get back to work, and the kids need to get back to their rooms soon,” she said loudly enough for the parents and a couple of the nurses to overhear.

There were protests—and whines—but within fifteen minutes, all the kids had been ushered back to their beds, and Regina was taking her leave. “I can stop back in three hours or so. Will you still be here?”

Milton nodded. Even if Nick and Blake had to leave, he would still be here.

“All right.” Regina hesitated, meeting his gaze. He was watching her carefully. Something was different. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“See you,” he replied, and wished the words didn’t feel completely inadequate.

He watched her leave, ass round and perfect in her scrubs, and didn’t realize that he was staring after her forlornly until Blake commented, “Jeez, I’ve never seen him this bad.”

Milton turned around to face the scrutiny of his two friends. “Isn’t she great?”

“She’s beautiful,” Blake agreed in her husky voice. “And she likes you, too.”

“What makes you say that?” Milton sat down at the table with them and leaned forward, ready to hear every detail of their thoughts on this particular subject.

Nick tapped blunt fingers on the table and shrugged slightly. “She fights it, but she follows you with her eyes.”

Blake nodded, looking sideways at Nick. “It’s like she can’t help but watch you.”

Milton wanted her to watch him. He wanted her to stare at him as much as she wanted, because he felt the same way about her—like his eyes couldn’t stop following her around.

“Good,” Milton said, rubbing his fingers together, “that’s good.”

“You think your plan is working?” Nick asked.

Milton shrugged and gave them both a rueful smile. “I have no idea, but things seem to be improving. She agreed to help with the show.”

Nick nodded, opening his backpack and pulling out Milton’s sketchpad and a Mac laptop. “You still thinking you want to do a version of the disappearing lady?”

Unable to help himself, Milton glanced back to the doors. He hoped he wasn’t cursing himself somehow, selecting that particular trick. He didn’t know why he had, except that she always seemed to be leaving—but he was the magician, not the audience, and he knew where she went, and how to get her back.

“Yeah.” Milton nodded, turning back to Nick and Blake. “That’s what I’m thinking.”

“Let’s get busy, then,” Nick said decisively, and turned on his laptop.

Milton cracked his knuckles and picked up his sketchpad and a pencil. Blake scooted closer to him, a devilish light in her eyes. “Now I know this is a kids show, but for ‘rehearsals,’ I know this lingerie shop that sells the most decadent, old-fashioned underwear. I bet your doctor would look perfect in it.”

Milton blinked at her. “What makes you think—”

She patted his hand. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of it.”

Nick was studiously ignoring them. Milton thought about it, and the idea of Regina Burke in some old-fashioned lingerie sounded excellent actually. Beyond excellent. He just had to convince her to wear it.

WHEN REGINA MADE IT BACK
to the entertainment room, the planning session had already wrapped up, and Milton was sitting alone, drawing furiously in a sketchbook. A half-empty water bottle and a muffin sat in front of him. Regina pulled back one of the hard plastic chairs and sat down. He looked up at her absently, his gaze blank, but then he recognized her and smiled. Regina took a long sip of water from the bottle on the table in front of her. She was alone with Milton Shaw.

“I think we worked out the details of the trick.” He waved to indicate the drawing in front of him.

“Why do you like magic so much?” She’d seen him with the kids, helping them with the simple tricks they’d performed for her, coaching them on the placement of their fingers, their gestures. He became absorbed in what he was doing, like every surgeon or artist she’d ever met.

He had begun to pull sheets of paper forward to show her, but now he hesitated. He flashed a glance at her, his blue eyes catching hers before he looked back down and finished the sketch.

“Maybe because of all the girls it gets me,” he said, and smiled a little ironically, lifting up the paper and blowing off bits of eraser before handing the page to her.

“I’ve heard that,” she agreed. She wouldn’t have thought that being a magician would be a turn-on. But there were magicians, and then there were magicians who looked like Milton Shaw.

“What do you think?”

She looked down at the images he’d created. He’d drawn her . . . in very tight scrubs, with her arms tied in front of her. She was about to step into what looked like an MRI machine.

“So the kids are going to force me in there, and then I disappear?”

He was watching her again. “Yes—like they’re pirates, and they’ve made you walk the plank.”

“Cool. And you’re still not sure whether to host the entire thing here at the hospital or somewhere else?”

“Well,” Milton said, ruffling his hair thoughtfully, “we’ll bring in more money if we host it somewhere elegant that serves dinner. No way are we fitting enough tables in here to serve anything, but most of the kids can’t be out of the hospital that long.”

“Didn’t you tell Nick that you could use video clips and have the show elsewhere?”

“Yeah.” He frowned. “We’ll have to decide soon. A large benefit like that will take months, unlike a smaller one here at the hospital. I’d like something less formal and easier to pull together.”

“Why?” she asked.

This time he just looked at her . . . and looked at her, until she felt a small flush on her cheeks. “Listen, I don’t believe you that getting me into bed is the only reason you want to do this show.” She’d watched him all day. He did care about the kids. “So if we took that out of the equation, what would your decision be?”

He scowled. “I suppose I’d just have the benefit here and donate money myself. I’d rather not put on a big production.”

Clearing her throat, she asked, “Okay, so either way, are you going to hold the benefit as Milton Shaw or Shaw the Magician? I think you’ve outed yourself to the staff at this point. Somebody likely recognized you.”

“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair again and frowned. “I’d rather keep my coming here a secret. It’s not like I’m movie-star famous or anything, but I don’t want everyone knowing about it.”

Regina looked down at her hands, at the neatly filed nails and smooth pink beds. “I can understand that. In fact, I was going to propose something to you.” She looked up at him and nearly lost her nerve. This was a really stupid idea. Damn Celeste.

He turned to face her completely. “What? Anything you want. Seriously.”

Regina nearly grinned. “You really need to start saying what you mean. Don’t hold back.”

He snorted and took one of her hands, lifting it to his lips. “Seriously, I’ll beg. You want me to beg?”

He kissed the tips of her fingers, brushing them against his lower lip, and Regina gasped. He was good at this, clearly enjoying the feel of her fingers against his mouth. This wasn’t a man who counted the seconds of foreplay until he could get to the good stuff. He seemed to want to absorb her through his skin. Did he treat all women this way, with this raw fascination?

“I was thinking,” Regina said on a sharp breath, “that we could explore this . . . interest we have in each other—”

His eyes lit up and he gripped her hand a little harder. “Awesome. What made you change your mind? Wait, I don’t care. Let’s go.”

He stood, but Regina dragged him back down. “Listen, will you? Jeez.”

He sat back down, his face set, but his eyes were dark, his body tense. She would think he was crazy, but she felt it, too, this tingle of heat throughout her body, almost like a magnetic pull drawing her closer to him. She’d watched him earlier, watched the way his T-shirt molded to the muscles of his chest, his flat stomach. He might have the brain of a software nerd, but he had the body of a ballet dancer or a martial artist. Lean, with no wasted fat or muscle, everything sculpted to perfection. She’d watched, and she’d wanted to touch.