Page 198 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
“That’s my point, Isaac. It would be highly suspicious if you arrived at yourfuck padwithout a busty blonde draped on your arm like you did every second day until a few measly months ago,” Regan replies, her tone surprisingly catty.
My jaw spasms as a growl emits from my lips. I’m used to Regan giving as good as she is getting, but that was a hit below the belt, and she knows it.
“Sorry, that was uncalled for.” Her sigh rustles my badly-in-need-of-a-trim hair. “It’s been a draining couple of weeks.”
She’s preaching to the wrong person.
As her gaze floats back outside, a mask I don’t recognize slips over her face. “If it’s Theresa’s team, she’ll be slapped with an injunction the instant the courts open tomorrow morning. Her obsession with you was already bordering on stalker territory, but I’m worried saving you from her trap thrust Isabelle straight into it.” Her regular, I’m queen-of-the-world fire gleams in her eyes when she says, “When I hit Theresa with another injunction, I’ll make sure it hits her horrid face this time around.”
A smirk curves my mouth, but it barely lifts an ounce of the weight on my chest. Surveillance or not, I need to see Isabelle. The desire is uncontrollable. I’m beyond exhausted, but I won’t sleep a wink until I see Isabelle isn’t upset.
“I need to see her, Regan. I need to make sure she’s okay.” This time, my statement comes out as a plea instead of a demand.
While she ponders my request, Regan’s gaze shifts between me and the van. She knows what happened with Ophelia, so she understands where my appeal stems from. Hearing Isabelle cry as she did without being there to support her is gutting me.
“All right,” she breathes out slowly a short time later. “But there’s only one way I can get you into the building without raising suspicion.” Confusion engulfs me when she fists my jacket. “Don’t worry, this will be as weird for me as it is for you.”
When her lips brush mine, I freeze, utterly shocked by her boldness. It’s been clear from day one that we have no sexual interest in each other whatsoever.
“If you want to see Isabelle, you need to make this look believable, Isaac,” Regan mumbles over my snap-shut lips.
Just hearing Isabelle’s name sparks a reaction out of me. I grasp Regan’s jean-covered backside to haul her body against mine. When I cup her thighs, she wraps her legs around my waist. To an outsider, we look like an intimate couple who can’t keep our hands off each other, only we know it is for show. For one, Regan is sitting so high on my waist, she’s practically on my chest, and two, neither of our tongues have attempted to leave the comfort of our mouths.
With our lips locked, I pace toward the elevator. When I inch back to place her thumb on the elevator dashboard security panel, she keeps the show alight by nibbles on the stubble on my chin. Once the elevator arrives at our floor, and we’re safely inside, we repel away from each other like we’re seconds from catching something.
While Regan runs her hand over her mouth to remove all traces of our kiss, I drag the back of my hand over mine to ensure none of her cherry-flavored lip gloss is smeared on my mouth.
“Yuck!” Regan’s dramatic voice echoes in the elevator. “That wasliterallylike kissing my brother.”
I cock my brow. Call me conceited, but this is the first time I’ve ever been insulted for my usually stellar bedroom antics. Even though I wasn’t putting in any effort, my ego still got bitch-slapped by her comment.
Regan eyes me curiously, seemingly baffled by my response. “I didn’t mean it was bad. I… just…”
She stops talking as her gaze shifts to the elevator dashboard. She counts the floors, praying it will reach our desired level because she’s forced to give me an explanation for her odd behavior. Her nervous response makes up for her swipe at my kissing abilities. I’ve known her for nearly eight years, and this is the first time I’ve seen her skittish.
With the elevator’s ascent taking too long, she removes her ugly hat before shifting her gaze back to me. “You can’t talk.” Her voice isn’t as jittery as it was earlier. “You didn’t even get hard from me slobbering all over your neck.”
I arch my brow again. Shock is all over my face.
“Don’t deny it. I know you weren’t into it. I felt what you have going on when you pulled my body flush against you.” She waves her hand to the crotch of my pants, ensuring I can’t miss the innuendo in her tone. “Even with my legs wrapped around your stomach, I would have felt thatmonsterif he were coming out to play.”
I throw my head back and laugh. My chuckles are so boisterous, they nearly drown out the ding of the elevator announcing we’ve reached Regan’s floor. After ribbing me with her elbow and halting my laughter, Regan ambles into the corridor. I quickly shadow her, more than happy to skip the peacock parade for another day.
While jabbing her key into her front door, Regan jerks her head to the one opposite it. “What’s the deal with your apartment? Should I call an exterminator?”
I grimace before rubbing at a kink in my neck. “It’s a long story.”
When I follow her into her apartment, the first thing my eyes zoom in on is Hugo. His shoulder is propped against the wall separating the living area from the sleeping quarters. He looks as exhausted as I feel, but he still smiles before pushing off the wall to greet me in the foyer.
“She’s back to sleep,” he advises once he’s standing in front of me. “Regan gave her some Xanax with a glass of wine.”
I snap my furious eyes to Regan. She swallows bleakly before she shoots daggers at Hugo. “She needed to sleep. She’s exhausted. Now she’s guaranteed a minimum of ten hours.”
When her twitching mouth fails to hide her smile, my fists ball. The last time Isabelle mixed Xanax with champagne, she was out cold for over twelve hours.
Needing distance before I end my night with two fewer employees, I shake my head before entering the hallway Hugo just exited. I’m extra careful with the handle of Regan’s guest bedroom door since it’s hanging by its hinges. The whitewashed wood opens with only the slightest creak, revealing Isabelle’s small frame, which is being swallowed by the ginormous king-size bed. The crisp blue bedding makes her hair as dark as night, but it gives her skin an illuminative glow.
The closer I pad to her bedside, the more constrictive the clutch on my heart becomes. She looks peaceful, but no amount of lying could deny the tearstains on her cheeks. After crouching next to the bed, I remove the marks with my thumbs. I’m barely touching her, but even a deep slumber can’t stop her from sensing my presence. She murmurs my name in her sleep, and her nose screws up when I press a kiss to each of her now-dry eyelids.
