“The weather’s cleared enough for us to go,” Jerome said from the kitchen doorway.

He gave Nina and Ewan a brief nod. He looked exhausted and worried, and Nina couldn’t blame him. His and Aggie’s departure from the island had been delayed by a few hours because of the storms outside, and Nina knew they were both quietly frantic at not being able to get to their son sooner.

“I’m ready,” Aggie said as she wiped her reddened hands on her apron. She’d put it on over her blue dress and cardigan at the last minute, so she could check on the roast in the oven.

“I can take care of that,” Nina said pointedly as she stood from the table where she’d been eating a thick slice of buttered bread. Her heart ached for Aggie and Jerome, but her stomach had still insisted on being fed. “You both go. You didn’t need to cook us anything at all.”

“I needed to do something to pass the time instead of worrying myself into sickness,” Aggie said as she took off the apron and hung it on the hook by the back door.

“We’ll appreciate it later, when we’re hungry again. But right now, you go.” Nina looked up as Ewan came into the kitchen.

He’d changed into a pair of dark trousers in a soft fabric that clung to his . . . Nina coughed as she inhaled a few loose bread crumbs. She covered it up by taking a long swallow of synthmilk. She was despicable, letting her pervy notions run wild in her head when Aggie and Jerome were facing tragedy. Ewan gave her a glance, and without a word, went to take Aggie by the shoulders.

“The weather is going to turn again, and soon. You both need to get moving.”

Aggie nodded. Her kind face looked drawn and weary, but she managed a small smile for them both. “I’m not leaving the pair of you on this island without making sure you’ll be fed while I’m gone.”

“We need to get moving, love.” Jerome jerked his chin toward the still open door, beyond which the gray skies were already spitting rain.

Aggie’s eyes gleamed with tears. To Nina’s surprise, the older woman drew her out of the kitchen chair for a long, hard hug. When Aggie pushed her back to look at her face, Nina felt herself nearly wanting to cry at the fierce concern in her gaze.

“You’ll be fine, my dear. You’re going to be just fine.”

“Yes, of course I will.” Nina wasn’t sure what had prompted this display, although she supposed that Aggie had taken a motherly attitude toward her and with her own, real son in such danger she might be worried about her semi-adopted daughter, too. “You let us know as soon as you can how Bernard’s doing, all right?”

“And if you need something, anything, all you have to do is ask. Whatever it is, I’ll make sure you have it,” Ewan said.

Aggie nodded. “You’ve been beyond generous already, Mr. Donahue. Jerome and I cannot thank you enough.”

She gave Nina another lingering, concerned look and another strong hug before she allowed Jerome to lead her to the airtranspo. She did insist that Nina and Ewan stay in the house, watching from the front door, so they could stay out of the rain that had started slanting down hard enough to sting them, each droplet like a pebble. The vehicle took off and headed out across the open water, and Ewan closed the front door.

Nina didn’t dare look at him. He would see her desire all over her face, or he’d see the effort of her hiding it, and neither option was something she wanted to experience. Especially since it would be bad if she did not see it reflected in his gaze, and worse if she did and knew he would not act on it. Once more, she wondered if she ought to have pushed through the nausea and pain and anxiety and gotten on the airtranspo with Aggie and Jerome. Then again, without knowing where she would go once she got to the mainland, she’d have ended up being a burden to them when they needed to focus on their son. Even if she tried not to be, she knew Aggie would have insisted on making sure Nina was taken care of.

Ewan had said something, but she’d missed it. “Hmm?”

“Are you all right?”

His concern was evident in his gaze and in the tone of his voice. Ewan Donahue cared about her. Nina knew that. That would have to be enough, she told herself. And she’d be better off, certainly. There wasn’t much more cliché than the old “sleeping with your boss” routine, and everybody, even women who couldn’t remember diddlydoodle, knew that it never ended well.

“Shiny fine,” she said with a forced smile.

It wasn’t as though she’d started to fall in love with him or anything. Not after a couple of heated kisses. Yes, those moments had been sultry as anything, and yes, she’d been unable to stop thinking about the taste of him. Yes, she’d been thinking of him in “that way” for weeks now, if not months. And yes, his kindness and generosity, not only with her but with everyone she’d ever seen him close to, the way he’d helped her face her fears, the gifts he’d given and the obvious care he’d taken . . . all of that was a recipe for the kindling of feelings that were more than friendship.

None of that meant she had to give in to them, though.

Ewan had made it clear there was someone else in his life. Technically he wasn’t a taken man because that other relationship had ended, but even if his body was willing, it was obvious that his heart was not available. She briefly closed her eyes against the sense memory of his body pressed to hers. Surely she wasn’t so desperate that she had to throw herself at him. Was she?

Outside, a roll of thunder made them both look at the ceiling. Rain spattered the roof and the windows. The lights flickered, but didn’t go out.

Nina frowned. “I hope Aggie and Jerome will be all right.”

“We’ll know the minute they get to the mainland,” Ewan reassured her.

He pulled his personal comm from his pocket and tapped it to pull up a familiar screen. It wasn’t exactly the same as the one she’d seen him using to track her, but close enough. A chilly formality went through her as she stepped back. She hadn’t forgotten that he’d been monitoring her, but she had pushed aside how it had made her feel when she found out. Now, that sense of betrayal came back. At least that would make it easier for her to stop drooling over him.

Another boom of thunder was followed by a moment of darkness as the lights went out before coming back on at once.

“Backup generators,” Ewan said, as though Nina had looked worried.

“I’m not afraid of the dark,” she said.

Ewan smiled. “It might be kind of fun if the lights go out.”

“Would make it hard to see the board games if it gets dark,” she replied lightly, uncertain if he meant to be flirtatious and not daring to react in case he wasn’t. Or hell, she thought miserably, even if he was, because she didn’t want to try to sort out the mixed messages.

“Right.”

“That roast should be almost done. I’ll go take care of it,” she said, just as the lights went out again.

The hallway wasn’t pitch black, but the light outside was gray enough that both of them were immediately cast into deep shadows. Neither of them said anything for a few seconds. The lights didn’t come back on immediately.

Nina could hear Ewan’s breathing, slightly faster than normal. Beneath that, the steady thump of his heart was also rising. She shook her head a little. She couldn’t hear his heart beating. Could not sense a change in his temperature, getting warmer. It was insane to think there was any way she’d be able to feel any of that, yet she did. The tension crackled like the lightning still prickling the skies outside. Another bolt lit them both, and in that instant, Nina saw something on Ewan’s face.

Fear.

“What’s wrong?” Instinctively, she moved closer as her own pulse quickened.

“Probably nothing. But the generator should have kicked in already.” Ewan moved toward the front door to look out at the sky. “Lightning might have struck it.”

“Or?” Nina asked, because it seemed clear there was something else on his mind.

Ewan shook his head without looking at her, but another wave of sensations rushed over her. She could smell him, she realized. A bitter tang of fear.

“Nothing,” he said.

Nina moved closer to him. “You think it’s something else. I can tell. What are you afraid of?”

“It’s nothing, Nina. I’m going out to the shed to check. You stay here.”

Nina frowned, feeling dismissed. Still sensing there was more than he was saying. Not liking any of it.

“Don’t be silly, I’ll go with you. You might need help.”

Ewan shook his head and grabbed a slicker from the hook near the front door. “No. Stay here.”

He moved past her, heading for the kitchen and the door into the garden. Nina grabbed a coat for herself and followed. She wasn’t going to let him go out into the cold and wet alone to check on anything.

“I said stay here!” Ewan whirled so hard the gravel gritted beneath the heel of his shoe.

A gust of wind whipped up and spattered hard rain into Nina’s face. “What’s the matter with you? What is going on?”

“Stay!” Ewan pointed at the house and headed off to the shed.

Seething, Nina took a few long strides to catch up to him. “I’m not a dog, Ewan! Or a child!”

He twisted on his heel again, this time to grab her by the upper arms. More rain pelted them, harsh and stinging. It got in her eyes, burning like tears, and it had to be the rain, because surely she wasn’t crying about this stupid thing. The way he was acting, treating her as though she were useless. Helpless.

“I need you to go inside the house and stay there!” he shouted. His fingers pinched, hurting.

In that moment, an understanding grew within her. Nothing she could have determined if she’d thought hard on it, but something that happened from deep inside, a knowledge that ought to have surprised her but did not. She could take him down. Here and now.

Assess.

Protect.

Eliminate.

* * *

He’d gone too far. Ewan saw that at once. He’d been too loud, too mean. He’d gripped her too hard.

In the last few seconds before Nina inevitably laid him out on his back, he made sure to keep his eyes open. He wanted to see the angle of her fist coming in to sock his jaw. He wanted to see himself going down, toppling under her assault.

Nina did not hit him.

She stepped back with a few quick strides. Her eyes were wide and angry, her mouth a thin, grim line. Her fists clenched. But she tempered whatever impulse she might have felt to attack him. Hope, that nasty emotion, sifted through him again. She had control of herself, and that meant she was regaining control over the tech.

Nina did not toss off a “fuck you” over her shoulder as she headed for the house, but she didn’t have to speak the words aloud for him to see them in every line of her body. She was pissed off, and he didn’t blame her, but damn it, the first thought he’d had when the genny didn’t kick on was that someone had managed to make it to the island and find their way into the shed to disable both the generators and the security systems.

The last update from his security team had confirmed there was not so much as a whisper of threat against him or Nina. Ewan had successfully removed himself so thoroughly from the public eye that he wasn’t even being gossiped about. Despite this, the fact that Aggie and Jerome had left under what might be considered suspicious circumstances had made Ewan wary. What if someone had lied about their son? Or worse, deliberately run him down so that Nina’s protection would need to leave the island? There was no reason for the generators to fail, and that they’d done so within literal minutes of the airtranspo’s departure seemed too coincidental.

Even as he watched Nina storm toward the house, the lights inside came back on. She threw a furious and triumphant glare over her shoulder at him, but kept going. Ewan didn’t take the return of the power for granted, though, and went into the shed. He ran a quick report on all the security. Nothing wrong. The generators, which ran on solar, had suffered a temporary overload that had been solved automatically by the system doing something complicated with switchovers and fuses that had all been documented in the report he pulled up on the monitor.

No attack. Nothing to worry about. Nothing wrong but a system that had surprisingly not yet been tested in this kind of weather, but which had performed as it was meant to. Relieved but feeling sheepish, Ewan let himself out of the shed and back into the rain. What had been a pattern of needlelike raindrops had turned into sheets of water, thick as curtains. The sky had gone twilight-dark, although it was still only the middle of the afternoon. When lightning forked close enough to rise the hairs on the back of his neck, Ewan booked it into the house.

Nina was in the kitchen, but she steadfastly ignored him when he came through the back door. He stamped the water off his boots and shook it from his hair. His slicker had kept his clothes mostly dry, but from the knees down, he was soaked. He tugged at the water-swollen laces of his boots to kick them off so he didn’t track mud and water all over Aggie’s spotless kitchen. He made a lot of noise doing all of this, but Nina didn’t so much as glance in his direction.

Shoes off, socks wet, Ewan stood. He watched Nina slicing up the roast she’d pulled from the oven. He loved the way she tucked a slice into her mouth and licked the juice from her fingertips. Nina’s every move was slowly sensual, without any sense of self-consciousness. She had to be aware that he was watching, but she was refusing to show it.

He loved her.

Oh, by all the stars in the universe, he loved her so much, and all he could do was stand in the doorway, silent like some kind of creep, because if he so much as uttered a single syllable of her name, she would turn and know exactly how he felt. It would be all over him like a wine stain on a bridal gown. And then what? What good could any of it do, allowing her to see all of that love? He knew everything about what had happened between them, and she still did not.

He wanted to tell her everything, to risk it the way he’d done when helping her face her terror of the stone staircase. Yet his last conversation with Zulik wouldn’t leave him. The doc had insisted that if Ewan were to so much as hint at there being a past relationship between them, it could trigger an entire mental breakdown, one from which she was unlikely to recover. The doc had not given Ewan any advice about what he should do in the event that it seemed as though they were each falling into a new relationship with each other.

Nina had been the one to kiss him. She’d been the one to say she wanted to do it again. He could berate and beat himself up as much as he wanted to, but there was no denying that she’d come to him on her own. That had to mean something, didn’t it? That her body remembered him, if her mind did not? Or was he just so onedamned desperate that he was willing to risk her mind for his own satisfaction?

A kiss, he thought. Only that. And then another. He had tasted her and felt her against him; he had fought the rising arousal and desire because he loved her.

“Everything’s shiny fine in the shed. The system had a little stutter. We shouldn’t have any more trouble.” His voice sounded uncertain and tentative even to his own ears.

Nina didn’t look up from the platter of roast she was arranging. She slipped another slice into her mouth and chewed, speaking around the food. “Good.”

He should apologize for sounding like such a sphincter, and definitely for putting his hands on her the way he had. To her it must seem inexcusable, not to mention confusing. But how could he explain why he’d reacted so strongly without telling her why he’d been so worried in the first place? They’d never spoken of the island as being surrounded by security, or why it should be. Nina didn’t know there was any reason to suspect danger.

Cursing himself, Ewan ducked out of the kitchen and headed upstairs. He’d taken up the habit of cold showers over the past few months, but now he was already shivering from the chill the rain had left in his bones. He shucked out of his soaked jeans and briefs, struggling with the heavy, sodden denim. His wool sweater got tossed onto the chair, and then he stripped out of the T-shirt beneath it. His skin prickled into gooseflesh, but there was a heat inside him that did nothing to warm him.

He and Nina were here alone in this house, on this island.

Again, the memory of the kisses sent a fresh surge of desire through him, still tinged with guilt. He’d taken advantage of his position. That Nina had been the one to kiss him didn’t matter. Ewan was the one who knew the truth, all of it, and he was the one who needed to make sure he kept himself under control.

The Nina he’d known and fallen in love with had not been much of a flirt. He’d loved her blunt honesty about who she was and what she wanted, both for herself and from him. She’d made it clear from the start that she wasn’t a woman who needed declarations of love, or even a romantic commitment, to take a lover. He’d admired and hated that about her, when it made him jealous that any other person had been given the gift of her attentions.

A trickle of still frigid water dripped from his hair, down his neck and spine. Ewan shivered at the icy touch, like skeletal fingers. He grabbed the towel he’d hung on the back of a chair and scrubbed at his head, eyes closed, and at the sound of creaking floorboards behind him, he tensed and turned with the towel held protectively in front of his nakedness.

“Nina.” He breathed at the sight of her.

She crossed the room to him. Her fingers curled around the back of his neck, her grip as hard and unyielding as his had been earlier when he’d been trying to make her go back in the house. She jerked him toward her, a single step, but it was enough to bring him close enough that she could push up to capture his mouth with hers.

The brutal kiss left him breathless but immediately aching. Her other hand took his wrist and pulled his arm up. Her fingers closed over his until he cupped her breast. Their bodies pressed together, the towel an inadequate shield between them. His cock thickened as his mouth opened beneath the onslaught of her lips, teeth, the stroke of her tongue. When her nails dug into the flesh at the back of his neck, he moaned, the sound swallowed inside the sweet cavern of her mouth.

“If you’re going to put your hands on me,” Nina said, every word pressing a bruise into his lips that sent more surging arousal through him, “this is how you do it.”