(A/N-Special thanks for Bekki for beta reading this. You are amazing and I thank you so much!)
*No disclaimer needed as I helped create Outlaw Queen*
Robin Locksley loved it when a plan came together.
Not that he couldn't find pleasure in other, more everyday pursuits. He was more than partial to having a naked woman in his bed, and the more naked the woman the more partial he was inclined to be. Still nothing could beat the sheer unmitigated buzz that came from conceiving a plan so brilliant that it was so guaranteed not to happen, and then making it indeed happen.
All he needed was a wife.
He stepped away from his private jet into the mild misty rain of England, not that that would dampen his mood. He was so close to pulling off his greatest coup yet to all that to happen. He took a deep breath as he headed down the stairs towards his waiting car. Robin was meeting with a man that upon his agreement would put Archer Corporation, a company that was at the forefront of technology innovation, providing customers programmable solutions for leading-edge electronic systems that was shaping the modern world, into overdrive.
Given the high stakes, perhaps he should have seen this little complication coming. But if Lorenzo Malto, married nearly fifty years to his childhood sweetheart, had decreed that he would only do business with people of impeccable family credentials and values. Robin had one competitor with who he would have to do battle with to gain Malto's investment into Robin's company, Adam Deluder. And with Adam bringing along his own wife, clearly Robin would just have to find himself a wife as well.
Kind of ironic really, given how he'd avoided the institution with considerable success all these years. Women did not make the mistake of thinking there was any degree of permanence in the arrangement when they chanced to grace his arm or bed.
Not for long anyways.
But a one night wife? That much he could handle. The face he had to have one by eight tonight was no real problem.
Regina would soon find him someone suitable.
After all, it wasn't like he actually needed to get married. A fake fiancee would do just fine, a fiancee found after no doubt long years of searching for that perfect soul mate, Loranzo Malto would hardly hold the fact they hadn't as yet tied the knot against him, surely?
He had his phone in hand as he nodded to the waiting driver before getting into the limo, thankful they'd cleared customs when they had landed earlier, and already devising a mental note of the women's necessary attributes.
Clearly he didn't want just any woman. This one had to be defined, intelligent, and charming. The ability to hold a conversation desirable but not essential. It wouldn't necessarily matter if she couldn't, as long as she was able to play along.
Regina would no doubt be flicking through her contacts, turning up a suitable candidate, before she hung up the phone. Robin allowed himself a flicker of a smile as his driver pulled effortlessly into the endless stream of airport traffic.
Regina was his personal PA, who handled everything he needed with earth shattering efficiency. The woman was a marvel. He could only applaud whatever life changing event had caused her to move from her home in the states to England. Not that he even knew her age, now that he thought of it. He had Regina on the end of his email, texts constantly, and given the references she offered in her CV, she'd have to be in her mid forties at least.
He couldn't wait another second, so he called her, and was a little surprised that he got only her voicemail instead. He waited to see if she would pick up but when she didn't he started to talk, "Find me a woman for tonight-" and was cut off then.
"Damn," he said, thinking there was a reason he usually sent a text or email.
Regina Mills glanced at her clock and felt a shiver all down her spine.
Robin Locksley was here, in the town she lived in.
It made no difference reminding herself that it was illogical for her to feel this way. She had no reason, no reason at all, to feel worried. It wasn't like he'd asked her to meet him at the airport. In fact, he hadn't made any arrangements to meet her at all. She was his virtual PA, he paid her to run around on his behalf via the web, not wait on him hand and foot.
She had just come out of the shower in her flat when she heard his voice on her cell phone saying, "Find me a woman for tonight," and the composure she'd been battling to talk herself into shattered into a million pieces.
She stood there, rooted to the spot, staring at the phone as the call terminated, emotions warring for supremacy inside her. Fury. Outrage. Disbelief. All of them tangled in the barbed wire of something that pricked at her skin and deeper, something she couldn't quite, or didn't want to, put a name on.
She decided to go with fury.
Who the hell did Robin Locksley think he was?
And what the did he think she was? Some sort of pimp for his pleasure?
She knew he had his women. She arranged way too many parting gifts for all the Tiffanies, Amandas, Jessicas of the world, and all with the same parting message-
Thanks for your company,
Take care,
Robin.
To know he'd barely survive a night without a bed warmer. But just because he was in her home town it didn't mean he could expect her to find one. It had been lucky the machine had cut him off when it had or she might have been forced to pick up the receiver and tell him exactly what he could do with his demands, and that would be one way to terminate an income flow she had no way of replacing any time soon.
But then, did she really want to work for a man who asked her to get him a bed mate for the night? Maybe she should call and remind him of the duties she had, finding a bed mate not one of them.
But then she would have to speak to him. She usually dealt with his correspondence through texts and emails. Surely she wouldn't go weak at the knees at the sound of his voice?
But as she replayed his message of finding a woman, a tremor started going through her, tingling as it shot down her arms and legs. Damn! She finished getting dressed and headed to the kitchen.
Ten minutes and two cups of coffee later, she was in the process of finishing the dishes when her phone rung, she let it ring...
"Regina, it's Robin."
Regina admitted that even when he sounded on edge, he still had the most amazing voice. She could almost feel the stroke of it across her heated skin.
"I've sent you an email," Robin continued, "or half of one, but this is urgent and I really need to speak to you. If you are home, I need you to pick up the phone."
Annoyance slid down her spine. Of course it was urgent. Or it no doubt seemed urgent to Robin Locksley. A night without a woman to entertain him? It was inconceivable! It was also no concern of hers. And still the tingling sensation pricked her skin, and she wished he would just hang up the damn phone so she could breathe again.
"Damn it, Regina!" he growled, his voice a velvet glove over an iron fist the would wake up the dead, or Jefferson if he kept this up. "It's eleven in the morning on a Friday. Where the hell are you?"
She snatched up the phone and said, "I didn't realize that I was required to keep business office hours."
"Regina, thank god," he blew out, long and hard and clearly irritated. "Where the hell have you been? I tried to call you earlier."
"I know. I heard," she said bravely.
"You heard? Then why didn't you pick up? Or at least call me back?" Robin asked.
"Because I figured you were quite capable of finding someone in the Yellow Pages," Regina said.
"What is that supposed to mean, Regina?" Robin asked.
"I mean, I'll do all manner of work for you as contracted. I'll do your correspondence and manage your itinerary. I'll set up appointments, arrange meetings, and I'll even flick off your latest conquest with some dumb bauble, but don't expect me to act like some sort of pimp. As far as I recall, that wasn't one of the services I agreed to take on," Regina said.
"And you think I want you to find me someone to go to bed with?" he asked.
"What else was I to think after your message earlier?" Regina asked.
"You think I'm not capable of finding someone like that for my own?" Robin asked.
"I'm sure you are more than capable, given..." she mentally cursed herself for sparring with him like this.
"Given what, exactly?" he prompted. "Given the number of baubles I've had you send? Why, Regina, anyone would think you were jealous."
I am not jealous, she wanted to scream. I don't care who you sleep with. But even in her mind, the words rang hollow. Okay, maybe it was just curiosity. She took a deep breath before she continued, "I apologize. Clearly I misunderstood your message. What is it that I can do for you?"
"Simple," he said, "I just need you to find me a wife."
"Are you serious?"
"Would I be asking if I wasn't? And I need her in time for that dinner with Malto tonight. And she probably doesn't have to pretend to be a wife, a pretend fiancee should do nicely as well," he answered.
A moment of silence, then several passed as he was realized he was almost at his hotel, "Regina?"
"I'm here, though I'm still not sure I understand."
He sighed. What was so hard to understand? "Malto's feeling insecure about the to do business with a solid family people. Deluder is here as well with his wife, and I don't want to show up alone when we're all in the room with Malto. So I need you to find me someone who can pretend to be my fiancee for the night."
"I can see what you're trying to do," Regina said, "but what if Malto finds out? How will that look?"
"Choose the right woman, and that won't be an issue," he said. "It's only for one night after all. Are you anywhere near your email? I sent you an idea of what I'm looking for."
"Look, Mr. Locksley-" Regina began
"The name is Robin," he said.
"Okay, Robin, I appreciate that I got the wrong end of the stick before, but finding you someone to play fiancee, that's not exactly part of the service I offer," Regina said.
"No? Then let's make it part of them," Robin said.
"It's not actually that simple," Regina reminded him.
"Open your email," Robin said.
Regina rolled her eyes as she did as he requested, she found his email and started reading, "Charming, intelligent, classy."
Robin smiled as he thought that she was all those things. "Oh and I'll need you to brush her up on my company and Malto's as well, she'll also need to know something about me as well. You know the kind of stuff..."
And then it suddenly occurred to him what had been bothering him. "She said stuff like 'Are you serious?' in a voice that threaded with honey, and that put her age younger than he'd expected. A glimmer of inspiration told him that if she was, maybe his search for the perfect pretend fiancee was already over...
"How old are you, Regina?" Robin asked.
"Excuse me?" What did it matter what her age was?
"I had you pegged for middle aged, but you don't sound it. In fact, you sound much younger. So how old are you, Regina?" Robin asked.
"Is that entirely relevant right now?"
"It could be," though the way she was hedging he was pretty certain his question was unnecessary. At a guess he'd say she wasn't a day over thirty five. It was perfect really. So perfect that he was convinced it might have occurred to him if he hadn't assumed his virtual PA was a good ten years older.
"And dare I ask?" her voice was barely a whisper. "Why would that be?"
And he smiled, "Because if would be weird if my fiancee looked old enough to be my mother."