Forbidden Stranger Read online

  They’d barely shared a word or two since she’d confronted him about that tracking app. If Nina came into the room where Ewan was, he left shortly after. The meals Aggie had prepared were often left on covered plates in the fridge for him to eat at a different time. Nina had continued working on the files in this very office, but although Ewan had previously made it his habit to work alongside her, he’d been avoiding that, too.

  She had no reason to feel bad about any of this, either, Nina told herself as she headed for the stairs to the second floor. She had every right to be angry with him. Didn’t she? He’d done something invasive, without her permission, and it seemed as though he were continuing in that same vein.

  Because he wanted to make sure she was all right.

  “Gah,” Nina muttered to herself as her fists clenched.

  Ewan’s door was open, but a quick glance showed her he wasn’t inside, and the bathroom she glimpsed from the doorway was also open. Unlikely he would be in there, either, not without closing the door. She said his name anyway, short and sharp, but he didn’t answer.

  He wasn’t in the kitchen, or the dining room, and also not in the den. Aggie and Jerome’s bedroom door was shut, which meant the older woman was taking her regular afternoon nap. Nina went out the back door and into the garden, then through the patchy grass to the shed along the back of the area. She knocked roughly on the door, waiting for Jerome to open it.

  He did after a moment or so, peering out with an expression of surprise. Jerome had never been anything but kind to her, but he and Nina didn’t have the same sort of closeness she had with Aggie. “Miss Nina.”

  She’d never actually been inside the garden shed and had assumed it to be full of . . . well, tools. Gardening equipment. The bank of monitors she spied behind Jerome, each of them showing a different scene including something that looked like an aerial view of the house, didn’t look like they had anything to do with growing potatoes and carrots. The desk and chair there, along with the half-eaten sandwich and coffee carafe, showed Jerome spent a lot of time in here.

  “I’m looking for Ewan,” she said without pushing farther to see past Jerome, although she made no secret that she could view everything in the shed behind him.

  “He’s not in here, Miss. I don’t know where he is.”

  Nina took a step to the side to give the shed’s interior a long, pointed look before she focused her attention on Jerome. “I guess gardening is also out.”

  He looked confused. “Pardon?”

  “Never mind.” Nina shook her head. “Have you seen him at all today?”

  “No, Miss.”

  Frustrated, she sighed, but an idea occurred to her. “Did he leave on the airtranspo?”

  “No, Miss, not that I know of.”

  It was an island, and not a big one. None of them could get very far or stay hidden for very long. Irritated again at the idea that Ewan had been keeping track of her every move and now she couldn’t find him when she wanted to, Nina gave Jerome a curt nod and turned on her heel.

  He had to be on the beach, because that was the only place left to look. Nina took off at a jog, avoiding the stairs the way she always did and taking the long way around. Today the wind off the water was chill, slicing at her through her clothes and whipping her hair into tangles. By the time she got down to the gravelly beach, though, she’d worked her body into a decent warmth so her teeth didn’t chatter.

  Ewan wasn’t there. Nina put her hands on her hips and looked as far as she could see in both directions. He could be on the other side of the island, where the sea crashed against the cliffs in some places and the beach was much harder to access.

  “Screw this.” She wasn’t going to chase him all over the place.

  Nina looked out over the water, trying to take some comfort from it the way she’d done in the past. The monitors in Jerome’s shed had shown views of the ocean for what looked like miles all around. Empty miles of ocean, nothing even on the horizon. A few had shown closer views she recognized as the beach and base of the cliffs. They were security monitors, Nina realized. Monitoring the entire island as well as a good distance around it.

  Assess.

  She staggered as though she’d taken a misstep, although she hadn’t so much as moved. For a moment she was convinced there’d been an earthquake or something, so clearly had the ground felt as though it were moving beneath her feet, but when she opened her eyes nothing else was shifting, and she still felt as though she might fall over.

  Protect.

  Nina went to her hands and knees hard enough to scrape her palms. She let out a low, angry cry at the way her body had betrayed her. She curled her fingers against the stones of the beach, some of them jagged and others smooth. She focused the sensations, willing herself back under control.

  Eliminate.

  Eliminate.

  Eliminate.

  “No,” Nina said aloud in a low, fierce growl that hurt her throat. “No, no, no.”

  Blinking hard to clear her vision, she got to her feet. The voice in her head, the one she now recognized as her own, did not come back. She waited a moment, breathing hard, her heart thudding but slowing gently. She opened her palms to look at the faint lines of blood from the scrapes.

  “No,” she told herself again. “Whatever the hell that is, no more.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Ewan had always preferred the woods and mountains to the ocean, but he had to admit that since he’d started coming to his island, the constant crashing of the waves and the smell of the salt water had come to feel more like home to him than any other place. Today he’d woken in the pearly light of early dawn to meet the airtranspo that had arrived with the island’s supplies. He’d ordered something special for Nina, and he wanted to be sure he got to it before anyone else, so he could surprise her.

  Zulik had told him he was suggesting Nina have some options for entertainment. A hobby, Zulik had said, and Ewan had wracked his brain to think of something that might appeal to her. He’d set up the easel and paints in the office where the light was best, not that he knew dick-all about painting or light or even art, for that matter.

  He had wanted to give Nina the gift personally, but since she’d demanded that he delete the tracking app they’d barely spoken. Instead, he’d left it for her to find, and he’d made himself scarce. The island was navigable on foot all around the perimeter, on the rocky beaches and in one section, up a broad, sandy path to the top of the cliffs and down again, with only one section that was impossible to run on because of the rocks.

  By the time he’d finished the circuit about four times, sweating, his thigh muscles aching, he’d reached the top of the cliff nearest the garden. Instead of heading for the garden path, the outbuildings, and then into the main house, he paused and headed down the steep stone stairs. He hadn’t known for sure he’d find Nina down there on the rocky beach, but he’d been hoping he would.

  Spotting her on the beach, Ewan stopped about halfway down the stairs to watch her. She pushed her body through a series of motions so graceful it was hard to believe she could kill someone with them. The salt-thick air had twisted her hair into a riot of curls that had escaped the confines of her short ponytail.

  Nina on the island usually wore crimson and emerald and royal blue. Dresses with soft, flowing lines. Loosely knit sweaters that hung off her bare shoulders. She did not dress in the uniform of black leggings, shirt, and harness laden with gear that he’d been so used to seeing her wear, although he’d left those clothes, minus the equipment, in her dresser in case she wanted to. He’d seen her wear them only once, the night she’d woken and shared tea with him in the kitchen. He had seen her clad in high fashion, stilettos, and jewels, and he’d seen her naked, but the woman on the beach was the one he knew best. Nina the soldier.

  Ewan couldn’t decide if forgetting the horrors she’d seen or worse, created, was a gift Nina had been given, or if it was a loss. Something taken from her, a piece of herself that