Nina didn’t need to take another assignment. The money she’d made from working for Ewan would last her a good long time, even if she lived a life of extravagance and indulgence for as long as she could, which wouldn’t be very long. She didn’t need to work, but she wanted the distraction.

This job had taken her all over the world. Literally. She’d spent twenty-two out of the past twenty-four hours on planes or trains or luxury cars, sitting by the side of one of the wealthiest men on the planet. Roger Germain was easy to get along with. Did as he was told, in regard to his personal safety. Didn’t talk much and therefore, didn’t expect her to have a conversation with him. He let her do her job as needed, which fortunately for both of them, wasn’t really needed.

He’d given her a nice bonus, too, along with a stellar review. It didn’t necessarily matter in the long run, not when there were only a few people in the world who were capable of offering the services she could provide. One less, now that she’d taken out Blakely. Still, the glowing words had lit her up a little inside and made her remember why she did what she did.

They hadn’t stopped her from thinking about Ewan, but Nina had already figured out that she was going to have him on her mind for a long time. If she got lucky, maybe she’d get a top-secret assignment that would reset her memories, including the ones of him, but something told her she wasn’t going to be that fortunate. Life didn’t work that way.

The pain of his betrayal had not eased. If anything, as time went on, the ache in Nina’s heart grew. Deeper, wider, longer. It had wound its way all through her in ways she’d never imagined.

She’d wished for this, she reminded herself. In the days when she’d been incapable of the highs and lows of true, full emotion, she’d regretted the loss. Now, when every minute was a challenge to get through, when she spent her days forcing herself not to curl up in a ball on the floor of the shower and sob until she made herself sick . . . now, she wondered how she could ever have wanted this.

She’d been home for less than a day when the next job came in. A standard assignment. Another rich guy who’d pissed people off. Open-ended, which didn’t interest her, so she declined. Moments later, her housecomm was pinging with a call from her boss.

“Leona,” Nina said as she poured herself a glass of well-deserved wine. She lifted the glass to the video screen so the younger woman could see it. “You know what’s the worst thing about some of these jobs? All the good booze I can’t drink. Roger Germain had exquisite taste in wine. He sent me a case of this as a thank-you gift, but it’s the first time I’m getting the chance to drink some. In other words, this better be really important.”

Leona shook her fall of blond hair. “Sweetie, would I have called you at home if it wasn’t?”

“Honey,” Nina answered with a bitter smile and another raise of her glass, “petal, dove. If it’s about that new assignment, the answer is still no. I have no desire to get into something open-ended right now.”

“I don’t blame you, not one bit. If anything, I think you should’ve taken a nice, long vacation after coming off the Donahue job.” Leona paused. “Which, if you want to talk about . . .”

“You know I can’t talk about it.”

Nina’s boss frowned. “And you know that the nondisclosure agreement doesn’t apply to me. I already know all the details about the assignment, and about him.”

“So there’s nothing for me to say about it, is there?” Nina sipped the earthy red wine slowly, savoring it. “You know one of the reasons why I don’t drink a lot anymore isn’t so much to stay sober. It’s not even because it’s almost impossible for me to actually get drunk for more than a few minutes. Nope, it’s because of the flavors. Bad wine is really, really bad.”

“There’s still plenty for you to tell me, Bronson. Like for example, what happened between the two of you at the cabin.” Leona gave Nina a steady stare.

Nina shook her head. “I made my report. I disclosed everything.”

“Yeah, I read your report. It was very . . . mechanical.” Leona shook her head. “That’s not what I’m talking about. Punkin—”

“Poodle,” Nina added.

Leona raised her brows. “I know you’ve had physical relationships with clients before, and of course that’s never been against company policies or anything like that. But there’s more to this than what you put in the report.”

“I put everything in there.”

“Sure, all the details. It’s not what you put in there, it’s what you left out. About how it made you feel.” Leona frowned. Nina had never told her about her inability to experience strong emotions, but she might have guessed it. “I’m here to listen, if you need me to.”

Nina nodded. “I know you are. But I don’t have anything I want to talk about. Truly.”

“It might help.”

“It won’t,” Nina said bluntly. A fresh wave of agony threatened to surge up from her guts and out her mouth, burning and sour. “Talking about it won’t change what happened. It won’t make it better. Time might do that, but you can’t make it pass any faster than it already will.”

“He’s a sphincter,” Leona said.

Nina shook her head. “No. He’s just . . . he’s a person. That’s all. Sometimes, most times, things don’t work out the way you think they will. You move on. That’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” Leona said.

“Yeah. Me, too.” Nina shrugged, pushing away the rush of emotions trying to choke her. She’d always liked Leona. Her boss had become a friend over the years, and if there ever was someone in her life that Nina would’ve confided in, Leona might have been that person. Except that Nina didn’t want to talk about Ewan or what had happened, or anything else about it.

She couldn’t. It was hard enough to get through it. Talking about it felt like it might kill her.

Leona sighed when Nina didn’t say anything else. “Look. The client really wants you, and he’s willing to change the open-ended assignment to a limited term. A month. Double your fees.”

“Interesting.” Nina took another mouthful of wine, letting the liquid wash over her tongue. “Nobody else can take it? What about Peters?”

“The client wants the best. That’s you, babycakes.”

Nina laughed, humorlessly. “Thanks, but you know perfectly well that any one of your staff is beyond competent. Why not give the assignment to someone who could use the cash, anyway? Maybe it is time for me to take a vacation.”

Leona rolled her eyes. “Sure. That’s so you, Nina. Taking a vacation, right. Where are you going to go? Let me guess. A tropical island. Gonna bake on a beach in a bikini with a smutty novel? Maybe a cute cabana boy?”

That actually didn’t sound half bad. “Good idea.”

“You’ll be bored,” Leona pointed out. “In about a day.”

“Might be nice to be bored.” Nina poured herself another half glass of wine.

“If you change your mind, let me know.”

Nina’s grin stretched her lips over her teeth. It felt fake, but must have passed inspection, because Leona didn’t look taken aback. “You know it, boss.”

“Yeah, yeah. Take care, honey.”

The comm went dark. Nina let her head drop back against the couch cushions, the glass in her hand. If she drank a little faster, she could get a hint of a buzz, at least, but gulping wine this good seemed more of a crime than the fact she couldn’t get drunk. She sipped slowly, instead, staring at the ceiling and studying the pattern of circles in the plaster.

For the first time in months, she had nothing to wake up for in the morning. Without her harness and all the gear, she felt weightless, but far from free. More wine wasn’t going to help that. A holiday probably wouldn’t, either, and she had to be honest with herself about that. She always felt better when she was working, and although her job with Roger Germain hadn’t completely taken her mind off Ewan, it had helped to be occupied.

She drained the glass and set it on the table, contemplating finishing the bottle. Instead, she corked it and put it away to save for another time. Germain had given her an entire case, but that didn’t mean she wanted to squander it.

Her apartment wasn’t dirty or even untidy, and it was still a bit too early for sleep. She tried to watch a viddy, but nothing kept her attention. Her next option was a workout. A hundred pull-ups, a hundred crunches, a hundred sit-ups. Then another set. Then three more after that. The exercise left her muscles aching, her limbs trembling. Stomach growling. She made a meal and ate it, pasta and vegetables, some more wine.

Finally, Nina admitted defeat and pinged Leona. Her boss answered with all that blond hair tied up in a high tail on top of her head. No makeup. She wore a fuzzy pink robe and had a carton of ice cream in her hand.

“This better be good, Bronson.”

“I’ll take it. The assignment.” Nina shrugged, her hands on her hips, not caring that she looked like a sweaty hot mess and Leona was clearly in the middle of some “me” time.

Leona dug her spoon into the carton and took a bite. “I knew you would. I already arranged for a transpo. Six hundred tomorrow.”

“What would you have done if I’d said no?”

“You weren’t going to. I know you, Bronson. You’re happiest when you’re on the job. And it might be good for you. Get your mind off . . . things.”

Nina snorted soft laughter. “Uh-huh. Things.”

“Transpo comes at six. Be ready. Info coming when I log off.”

“Of course.”

A few hours later she was settled in the transpo. According to the info that had pinged through a minute after Leona disconnected, the client would be providing everything she’d need, beyond her personal gear. She was going to a residential location. There’d be travel as required. Appropriate attire and all personal needs would be provided. Pretty standard stuff.

She’d grabbed her tablet, a new one to replace the one that had been destroyed during the last attack at Ewan’s main house. The new one was synced to her cloud library. When she tapped the screen, the last book she’d been reading on it came up. Wuthering Heights. She’d read it a dozen times and could imagine reading it at least a dozen more. She’d left off midway, and of course the cloud function meant that the file opened to the place where she’d stopped. She scanned the text briefly. Catherine was saying how if Heathcliff ceased to exist, she’d be unable to keep on.

Nina closed the file. For the first time, reading that scene didn’t move her to bittersweet tears. For the first time, she understood completely how Catherine felt, and it wasn’t at all romantic or beautiful or even sexy.

Loving and missing Ewan in her life was not bittersweet. It was only bitter. She’d probably be tasting it for the rest of her life.

She deleted the file before tucking the tablet into her duffle.

She spent the rest of the transpo ride bingeing on a series of retropulp novellas that entertained her without engaging her brain too much. By the time the transpo set down inside the gates of her new client’s estate, Nina had finished all of them and tucked her tablet back into her duffle. With it slung over her shoulder, she exited the transpo.

She was halfway down the transpo steps when she noticed the man waiting for her on the front steps of the house. He didn’t wear a suit and tie, but the dark hair was the same mussed cut. The glint of his grin, no different. He watched her walk toward him without taking so much as a step toward her, which was a good thing, because if he’d tried to reach for her, Nina wasn’t sure what she might have done.

Instead, she reached the bottom of the porch steps and let her duffle fall with a thud onto the driveway. She tilted her head to look him up and down. She put her hands on her hips, feet shoulder-width apart, in her fighting stance. It made her feel strong, and she would need to be.

She stared him down. “Hello, Ewan.”

“Hello, Nina,” Ewan said. “Welcome back.”