Page 48 of Midnight’s Queen (Stroke of Midnight #3)

How could the morning after a perfect night have ended in such a mess?

Aleks shoved the sheet aside and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He grabbed his boxers and slid them up his legs. His pants were a few paces away. He donned those then bent to grab his phone.

Missed call notifications filled the screen, every single one of them from Mrs. Solveig. “Fuck!”

He stuffed his phone in his pocket and shoved his feet into his shoes.

When he entered the living room, Portia was seated in a highbacked chair, her legs curled under her, the computer on her lap.

“I’ve got to go,” he said abruptly. He had to leave before he said something that he’d regret. Maybe when they were both cooled off, he could get her to see his side of it.

“Okay, bye,” she said, not looking up from the screen.

“Portia.” Her name was a plea, though he wasn’t sure for what.

She looked up then. “Oh, are you waiting for your shirt?” She stood and in one smooth move pulled it over her head and dropped it to the floor.

Aleks nearly swallowed his tongue.

Dressed in wispy panties—pink instead of the black ones he’d peeled off her last night—and nothing else, she stared at him defiantly. Shoulders back, head proudly raised, she asked, “Is there anything else you need?”

Damn, she was magnificent. The light filtering in through the shades lit her like a goddess and illuminated the love bites he’d left on her breast and collarbone.

“Portia, please.” He’d said those same words in a very different context last night.

“Aleks,” she mocked. “You’re the one who said you needed to leave. So, go. No one is stopping you.”

Was that a waver he heard in her voice?

“We can talk about this later,” he said, as he stopped to pick up his shirt. He curled his fist around the fabric to keep from caressing her smooth skin.

“There’s no point,” she said. “I’ll be meeting with the scientists and the street cookers this morning. If everything aligns, they’ll get the surgery later today.”

She met his gaze then. He read turmoil and determination in her eyes.

“It’s the best option for the company,” she said. “And it will save countless lives by getting Vyne off the street.”

He saw her point, of course he did. But brains were delicate instruments. Why couldn’t she understand that?

“This isn’t over,” he said. “ We’re not over.” They couldn’t be, not when he’d just found her.

“We’ll see,” was her only response.

She didn’t move when he shrugged into his shirt. Or when he said goodbye.

“Lock up behind me.” Though every instinct was telling him to stay, Aleks forced himself to leave. He paused in the small hallway leading to the front door and turned back toward the living room. It was empty. Her laptop sat on the chair, but Portia was nowhere to be seen.

Heart heavy, he took the final few steps to the front door. This wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be.

He was just reaching for handle when the door started to vibrate.

Pound, pound, pound.

“What the hell?”

“Open this goddamn door, Portia!”

Aleks whipped open the door and came face-to-face with Phillip Tremaine. Sure, the man looked a bit rougher than he did in the Solveig dossier, but Aleks would recognize him anywhere.

“What do you think you were doing having dinner with the Solveigs last night? Why are the newsies reporting that you’re involved with one of their...” Tremaine’s words trailed off as he finally realized that it wasn’t Portia at the door.

“You’re the Solveig bastard in that video. What the hell are you doing here? Is it true? Are you fucking her?” The vileness spewing out of the man’s mouth was unending.

Aleks didn’t even remember making the decision. One minute he was listening to Portia’s father disrespect her and the next, his fist was in Phillip Tremaine’s face and the other man was dropping to the ground.

“Whoops.”

Behind him, Portia gasped.

He whirled around, careful to keep his body between her and the open door. He was relieved that she was dressed in clothes similar to last night’s. Less thrilled when she looked between him and her father in shock.

“He’s still alive. I just knocked him out.”

That startled a laugh out of her.

“What do you want me to do with him?” Aleks asked. Nothing had prepared him for a situation like this.

“Bring him inside,” she said. “We’ll need something to tie him up with. And probably a gag.”

Hand on Tremaine’s collar, he paused and looked up at her. “What are you planning to do with him, Portia?”

She gnawed on her lip. “Funny you should ask.”

She stepped out of the way and he dragged her father through the front door. Portia closed it behind him, then turned and walked back to the living room.

With no choice but to follow, he dragged the other man into the living room.

“I need to make some calls,” Portia said. She paused and got a faraway look in her eyes.

Was she counting on her fingers?

“Can you set up a meeting with your employers for two days from now?”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “Why?”

“I think I have the answer to our problems, but I need a little time to set it up.”

“What?” He was so confused.

She’d disappeared into the bedroom, then reappeared with a handful of ties. “You’re in charge of securing him.”