by Megan Hart
Nina was proud of him.
She didn’t have the right to be. She’d had nothing to do with what he and his team had accomplished. Nina also didn’t have the right to be jealous of Ewan’s life without her, because she’d made this choice. She’d left him on the island, she’d done it again in that hospital parking lot, and if she was going to be brutally honest with herself, she’d also done it a few times before that. She’d left him, over and over, each time because she felt as though she had to. Every time she had returned, the next time she ended their relationship had been worse.
If you left someone again and again, how could that be called love?
Just remember that when you need me, I’m here.
She believed him without a doubt. She went to sleep every night with his face in her mind; she woke every morning thinking of his voice. Yet so far, she’d been unable to bring herself to reach out to him, and the more time that passed, the more convinced Nina was becoming that she was never going to see him again.
“It’s called closure,” Al said to her now as she tipped the bottle of wine to refill both their glasses.
Nina rolled her eyes. “Closure. Uh-huh.”
“Yeah. You know. Where you confront your feelings and then talk to him about them, maybe get an apology or something.”
“He already said he was sorry a lot of times,” Nina said.
“You didn’t accept his apology?”
Nina shook her head. “It’s not about accepting the apology. It’s about being able to move past everything, to face the future together. It’s not about believing that he’s sorry, or even saying the same, myself. It’s about believing that neither one of us is going to keep making the same mistakes and causing the same hurts again and again.”
“And you don’t think you’ll both change? Or haven’t already?” Al sliced into a thick slab of beef and tucked it into her mouth with a sigh of contentment.
Nina had ordered the catered meal to her apartment, the best of everything Ewan’s money could buy, but although the food smelled good, she was weirdly not hungry. She had been without an appetite since the moment she’d watched Ewan walking away from her.
Al noticed. She pointed her fork at Nina’s plate. “If you’re not going to eat that, I will. The question, though, is why aren’t you going to eat it?”
Nina shrugged and debated pushing the plate across the table. She did, after a moment. Even if Al ate Nina’s meal, there was always more.
“I don’t need to, I guess. I haven’t been as active lately. I’m turning into a couch spud.”
“I hear that. I haven’t had my psych clearance yet, which means I can’t take any new jobs. Honestly, I figured I was done with all that, at least until they told me I wasn’t allowed to do it anymore. Have you thought about going back to work?” Al patted her flat belly lightly.
“For ProtectCorps?” The question startled Nina. “No.”
“Did Leona call you?”
“Yes, a bunch of times, but she hasn’t asked me to come back to work. She just wanted to check in with me.” Nina paused, then added, “It took me a few minutes to remember who she was, the first time. I didn’t tell her that, though.”
Al laughed and took another bite of meat. She chased it with some wine and sat back in the chair to study Nina. Her expression softened.
“How is all that?”
“It’s fine. Once the memories started coming back, they kept coming back. There will always be things I don’t remember, but that’s probably not a bad thing. I’m not having the blank-outs anymore. That’s what counts, in the long run.”
Nina sipped her wine and forced herself to reach over to the plate she’d given up to Al. She cut into the thick slab of meat on her plate and took a bite. Tasteless. Nauseating. She stopped herself from spitting into the napkin, but only barely.
“And your sister?” Al pulled Nina’s plate toward her with a pointed look.
“The only reason she’s not in prison is because I pled on her behalf. She has kids,” Nina said in response to Al’s disgruntled expression.
Al shook her head and gave Nina a sour look. “You forgave the woman who got your ass kidnapped by a bunch of lunatics determined to rip your head apart, yet here you are drinking wine with me on a Saturday night, instead of snuggled up somewhere sexy with your hot boss.”
“He’s not my boss anymore.” Nina laughed, but ruefully.
“All the more reason for you to work this stuff out.” Al leaned back in her chair and pushed the plate away from her with a sigh that said she wanted to eat more. “Listen. If you’re not going to get back together with him, you still need closure. It’s the only way you’ll be able to move on.”
Nina rolled her eyes. “Al, c’mon. Since when did you get so philosophical?”
“In my old age.” Al grinned and buffed her short nails against her shirt front before digging back into the food. She spoke around a mouthful. “But I’m serious.”
The idea of seeing Ewan again, in person and not on a viddy screen, pushed waves of tingling anxiety through her. Al’s enhancements would let her sense Nina’s stress, probably. There wasn’t anything Nina could do about it.
“It’s been months. Not a word from him in all that time.”
“Sounds like he’s being respectful of your wishes. I mean,” Al paused to give Nina a look, “did you want him to chase you? I didn’t think you were the sort of woman to play games like that.”
“I didn’t want him to chase me,” Nina said flatly. “I guess maybe I just didn’t want him to give me up so easily.”
“I hate to break the news to you, lady, but you can’t really have it both ways.” Al finished what was on her plate and moved to Nina’s to chomp another piece of beef.
Al was right, but that didn’t stop Nina from frowning. “Remind me again why I’m taking relationship advice from you?”
“Because I’ll give it to you straight? I mean as straight as I can get, which we both know is generally not the term anyone who’s met me would use to describe me,” Al said with a grin. She sat back again with a sigh, this time to raise her glass. She eyed Nina. “He loves you, Nina. And you love him. I’ve never been much for that romance business myself, but you two almost make me believe it could work.”
“There’s so much between us. I’m not sure we can ever get past it. Maybe Ewan and I aren’t meant to be together.”
“Love doesn’t just stop because you want it to, Nina.”
Nina shuddered and closed her eyes, embarrassed to weep in front of Al but unable to stop herself from giving in to the flood of emotions. She pressed her fingertips to her eyes hard enough to cause bursts of color. “I used to want this so desperately, you know? To feel again. To remember things. And now that I can, Al, it all hurts so damned much.”
“Would you want to go back to the way it was before?” Al’s quiet words helped push away Nina’s tears.
She opened her eyes. “No.”
“Do you regret meeting him?”
“No,” Nina said after a hesitation.
“Do you wish you’d never loved him?”
Nina had felt that way, but not anymore. “No.”
“Far be it from me to tell you what to do with your life, but if you don’t just freaking go see him, I’m going to have to kick your ass.”
Nina blinked. Al sounded serious. Looked serious, too.
“I will fight you,” Al continued. “Rough you up. Knock some sense into you.”
Nina laughed. “Yeah? You want to go a round with me?”
“I could take you.” Al gave a small smile.
Impulsively, Nina reached across the table to take her friend’s hand. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Al squeezed Nina’s fingers. “Now, what about dessert?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Ewan ought to have been better at giving speeches by now. He’d done his share of public speaking, spent his time in the public eye. He should have been used t
o it, yet every time he had to get up in front of a crowd and talk, he had to psych himself up for it. The truth was, for a big portion of his life he’d been compelled to pursue a career that necessitated talking to large groups and being in the public eye, but he was tired of it. The constant attention, the threats to his life, the need to flog his causes to death for them to gain any kind of traction with public opinion, the government, or both.
He was tired.
What he really wanted was to move back to the island where he’d spent eight months of his life falling in love with Nina and having her fall in love with him all over again. That was never going to happen, though. He’d failed. More than Nina, Ewan had failed every single one of the enhanced. He would never be able to make up for it. The best he could do was exactly what Nina had accused him of doing. He could throw money at all of it.
He could have refused to speak today. He no longer had to be the official voice of anything related to the enhanced, but here he was, and he wasn’t too proud to admit that his reasons were selfish. He wanted Nina to see him advocating for her peers, and for her. If that meant one more charity ball, one more speech, one more round of viddy interviews, then he was going to do it.
By the time Ewan got to the lectern to begin his remarks, the crowd had already become a little restless. The open bar had shut down in preparation for the dinner, and once the booze stopped flowing, no matter how briefly, charity crowds tended to get a little rowdy. Especially when the press began asking questions that prevented everyone from simply heading into the dining room to get their drink and grub on.
He’d been ready to talk for however long it took to answer everyone’s questions, but after only about ten minutes, including the time he’d taken to speak before opening the floor, most of the audience had already defected in search of their dinners. Even some of the press were already leaving. A few lingered to ask him follow-up questions, most of which Ewan directed to their information files.
“I’m not a medical professional,” he repeated finally. “I invented the tech and have helped to program the upgrades, but I had nothing to do with the actual implantation of the original tech, and I have never been involved with any physical additions to upgrading the enhanced. Included in your info files is the contact information for the docs in charge of the upgrade procedures. Any of them can be contacted for more information on the actual process.”
“So when will we see you out and about and on the town again?” This came from a short, blond man Ewan recognized as an entertainment reporter. “You’ve been listed as one of our top eligible bachelors. Do you have anything to say about that?”
Ewan frowned. His fingers clutched the lectern because he didn’t want to make fists. “I wasn’t aware of it, and I have nothing to say about it.”
Was this really what they wanted to ask him about? He’d just presented on brand-new tech that would allow patients suffering from dementia the ability to retain recent memories they would otherwise lose, and all anyone seemed to care about was who he was sleeping with. Ewan started to say something about it, when motion from the back of the room caught his eye. It couldn’t be, could it? But it was.
Nina.
* * *
In times past there’d have been no way for Nina to get in to this sort of event without an invitation and a full background check, but it appeared that Ewan Donahue was no longer a target for anyone, and therefore, nobody gave a damn about limiting who could gain access to him. Or, she thought as she navigated the chairs at the back of the room, Ewan himself was simply too stubborn to have insisted on high security. Whatever it was, she was already regretting that she’d made the choice to come today. Watching him on the viddy reports had been difficult enough, but actually seeing him in person, hearing his voice . . . if she got close enough, she’d be able to smell him. All of that was too much, and Nina turned to leave.
His voice echoed through the room, picked up expertly as it was by the microphone. “Nina.”
She cringed. Caught. Nina turned, too aware that all eyes were on her. Fortunately, most of the crowd had already left in search of hotel chicken and heavy pour cocktails, but there were more than a couple reporters left.
She hadn’t missed the question one of them had been asking as she entered. Now, aware that they were all staring and that most of them would know who she was and tell anyone who didn’t, she kept her chin up. She was grateful she’d made sure to wear something that would blend in during a charity function. She had Katrinka to thank for that, and remembering how Jordie’s mother had once been Nina’s advocate and Ewan’s friend made her sad.
Her name was being muttered all around the room, but she ignored it as though she couldn’t hear a single anticipatory whisper. Nina moved closer to the podium where Ewan had been speaking. The remaining crowed parted for her. Maybe they were afraid of her. She couldn’t blame them, but she wasn’t going to look at their faces to see if they looked terrified.
By the time she got to the front of the room, Ewan had stepped down from the small stage to move toward her. He stopped a few steps out of reach. So did she. They stared at each other, and while Nina was aware of everyone staring, heat rose up her chest and throat to see that Ewan appeared to have eyes only for her.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said.
Nina cleared her throat. “It was a last minute decision.”
“Nina Bronson,” someone said from behind her. “Your relationship with Ewan Donahue has been on and off for a while now. Are you here to rekindle it?”
There were a lot of answers she might have given in that moment, but there was only one that was the truth.
“Yes,” Nina said. “Because I’m utterly and completely in love with this man, and no matter what happened or will happen between us, I’m here to tell him exactly how I feel about him and us together.”
Silence at first, followed by a low, rumbling titter and mutter. The flash of cameras. She ignored it and all the other questions to take those last few steps toward him. She put herself within his grasp and when he didn’t take her in his arms, she put his hands on her hips so she could get closer.
“Kiss me,” she murmured. “Please.”
He did. Long and deep and tender, the pressure of his lips easing when he opened his mouth to grant her access inside. The delicate sweep of his tongue against hers promised many more kisses, but well aware they had an audience that was recording and reporting every move, Nina broke the embrace with a soft sigh. She looked into his eyes, seeking any signs he regretted what they’d just done, but all she saw on Ewan’s face was happiness.
Unadulterated joy.
“I love you,” Nina said.
“That’s good,” Ewan replied. “Because I’m inordinately in love with you.”
“Ms. Bronson! Does this mean you’re going to be taking Ewan Donahue off the market?” came the question from behind them.
Without looking away from Ewan’s eyes, Nina smiled. “So off the market. If he’ll have me.”
“I will most definitely have you,” he said with a smile that matched hers.
Ewan took her hands. Linked their fingers. She squeezed; he squeezed back. They stared at each other like a pair of idiots, but Nina didn’t mind how they might look to the intrusive cameras. She kissed him again, this time putting a hand to the back of his neck and breaking away only when he nuzzled at her throat, tickling.
She laughed and took a few steps away from him without letting go of his hand. “We’re making a scene.”
“They love it,” Ewan whispered as he pulled her closer to get his mouth close to her ear. “Their ratings are going to skyrocket.”
“Can we go home?” she asked him in the same low murmur, her lips brushing his cheek until he shivered. “You and me. Let’s lock ourselves in a room together and refuse to come out until we’ve figured out how to make all of this work. Permanently.”
Ewan kissed her mouth and pulled away to look deep into Nina’s eyes. He
nodded. He smiled.
“Yes,” he said. “Let’s go do that.”
Hand-in-hand, they headed for the door. There were more questions shouted after them. More flashing cameras taking photos that would run with the gossip stories. They ignored all of it.
Nina and Ewan were on their way home. It would take love and time, but they had more than enough of both. Here and now and forever, all that mattered, all that would ever matter, was each other.
About the Author
Author photograph © Whitney Hart Photography
Megan Hart writes books. Some of them use a lot of bad words, but most of the other words are okay. She can’t live without music, the internet, or the ocean, but she and soda have achieved an amicable uncoupling. She can’t stand the feeling of corduroy or velvet, and modern art leaves her cold. She writes a little bit of everything from horror to romance, though she’s best known for writing erotic fiction that sometimes makes you cry.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO