by Megan Hart
Katrinka’s expression smoothed as she put the pieces together. She nodded, her eyes narrowed, although her smile was open and friendly. “Yes, of course. You’re Nina Bronson. I don’t know why I didn’t put that together before now. Obviously, I know who you are as well.”
“He hasn’t been introducing me to anyone,” Nina explained with a glance at Ewan. “I think it’s because he thinks if people know who I am, they’ll be rude.”
“I should imagine the guests here would be better behaved than that, and if they weren’t, you’d be able to handle it,” Katrinka told her, also with a glance at Ewan. “But on the other hand, there’s certainly no need to put yourself into an awkward position unnecessarily.”
“Certainly not. It makes dinner conversation so uncomfortable,” Nina said. “I can’t imagine that’s very conducive to encouraging people to donate to the event.”
Katrinka looked thoughtful. “No. But perhaps Ewan simply didn’t want you to be made to feel as though you had to be on the defensive—at least not unless someone tries to hurt him.”
Both of the women looked at Ewan as though for confirmation. He shrugged. “You’re both right.”
He was called up to the podium to give his after-dinner speech before either of them could dig into him any deeper, and relieved, he made his excuses and an escape. Ewan had prepared the speech months ago, when they’d first asked him to attend the fundraiser. He hadn’t practiced it much. It was the same old words, maybe strung along in a slightly different pattern, but nothing much changed in what he was saying. Donate. Support. Blah blah blah.
When he looked out into the audience his eyes automatically sought Nina’s face, but she was gone from her place at the table. Her disappearance was enough to make him pause. Ewan had enough public speaking experience to cover up his hesitation and continue without making it obvious he’d faltered, but he couldn’t settle until he found her. Again, he swept the room with his gaze and found her by the set of tables holding all the items for the silent auction bid. She didn’t appear to be looking at any of them. Nina was deep in conversation with a slight young man dressed in a slim-fitting tuxedo. His shock of almost white hair stood out in the shadows at the back of the room. He leaned too close to Nina for Ewan’s comfort.
Ewan frowned, but kept on with his speech. “These projects have been some of the most gratifying and fulfilling experiences I’ve ever had. Creating clean water in places that before had to rely on the generosity of others to provide them with it. The reintroduction of three species of insects that had been declared almost instinct, so that our farmers can have pollinators in their fields, therefore being able to grow healthier food. I’ve never been more proud to attach my name to a foundation than this one.”
“What about the enhancement tech?” The shout came from the back of the room, close to where Nina was talking with the young man. “What about that, Donahue? What about the rumors that you’re going to start that all up again?”
A low murmur ran around the room, but Ewan couldn’t tell if people were muttering in his defense or that of the heckler. He gave the unknown shouter a dispassionate smile. “All of the funds raised from tonight’s event go to support the projects I just mentioned, as well as many others in the Katie Donahue Foundation. You can learn more about them on the net site, or sign up for our mailing list.”
“But what about that other stuff? Address the rumors! We deserve to know if you’re planning to—” The voice cut off abruptly as the bro in the tux that Nina had been talking to stepped forward and frog-marched the heckler out a back door.
He was security, then. Not a guest. Somehow, that didn’t make Ewan feel any better.
Ewan had dealt with hecklers often enough to respond smoothly and quickly, with barely a blink, and he continued his speech as though nobody had interrupted him. As he left the podium, Nina looked at him from her place on the other side of the room. This far away, she wouldn’t be able to sense the rising rate of his pulse and what surely must be an elevation in his temperature or blood pressure. She didn’t move forward, probably because the potential threat, minimal as it was, had been handled.
She was still near the back, this time perusing a selection of scarves woven from spider silk. She held up a translucent length and draped it over one shoulder. “What do you think? Is it me?”
“It’s strong. It’s beautiful. It’s unusual. So, yes, absolutely.”
She eyed him and pressed her lips together. She put the scarf back on the small glass cube used to display it. “What about the spiders used to make it? Do you think they’re happy, spinning all day long without so much as a single catch? Starving for their art?”
“They’re fed,” he said. “They’re kept in the best conditions a spider could ask for.”
“They’re slaves,” she told him with a glance over one shoulder.
Ewan frowned. “Nina.”
She let her fingertips tease along the edge of the scarf, and for a moment, her shoulders hunched. She drew in a ragged breath, but when she looked at him, she was smiling. That gleam was back in her eyes, though, and to Ewan’s disconcertion, he saw them as tears.
“Are you going to bid on any of this stuff?” Nina’s voice was rough, gravelly.
“No. Unless you want something?” Ewan waved a hand in the general direction of the auction items. From over her shoulder, he saw the re-entrance of the bro in the tux who’d dragged off the heckler. “Lots of good stuff there.”
“No, thank you, I don’t need anything.” She leaned to look into a jar filled with holographic beads. It lit when touched to cast a shimmering glow that changed colors in slow patterns. “This is interesting. But no, I don’t want it. I don’t have a place to put something like that. Why don’t they just donate money?”
He’d been busy trying to get a look at the man who’d so caught her attention earlier and so had missed a part of what she’d asked. “Huh?”
“Why don’t they just donate credits?” She poked his arm until he looked at her. “Wouldn’t that make more sense?”
“People like to get something for their money,” he said in a low voice, aware a number of gala guests could overhear them.
“Aside from the satisfaction of knowing how much they’re helping the world recover from devastation?” She chuckled under her breath and shook her head. She caught his gaze and twisted. “What are you staring at?”
“Who were you talking to, earlier?”
Nina’s brows knitted. “When?”
“Right before that person in the audience started shouting at me. The bro in the tux dragged him out. Is he security?”
“Oh. That’s Al.” She tilted her head and gave Ewan a small, curious tip of her lips. “Yeah, Al’s working security tonight. We haven’t seen each other in a while.”
A searing flash of jealousy swept over him. Nina’s chin lifted. If she hadn’t been able to sense a shift in his body’s response to his emotions earlier, she certainly could now. Her eyes narrowed again, and she looked around the room as though seeking the sight of something, or someone, specific before her gaze settled back on Ewan’s.
“Al and I have been friends for years.”
“Is that all it was?”
Nina’s lip curled. The gleam vanished, replaced by a harder light. “Why do you want to know?”
“I think I have the right to ask.” Ewan bristled, his own mouth becoming a tight, grim line.
“Do you? Why is that?”
There was no answer he could give her that wouldn’t make him sound like a colossal sphincter. Ewan frowned. “You know why.”
“This is where you and I agree to disagree, as the saying goes,” Nina told him, “because I don’t actually owe you an explanation about anything I’m doing, have ever done, or am thinking about doing.”
Ewan’s jaw gritted. “Is he something you’re thinking of doing?”
“You’re ridiculous,” Nina told him with a hiss under her breath.
With alarm
, Ewan caught another flash of tears in her eyes. The only times Ewan could recall seeing Nina cry, he’d been the cause and certainly was this time, too. He knew she wouldn’t want to lose her composure in front of him, much less a crowd. The fact a single silver tear had already escaped to slip over her cheek was enough to make him attempt to take her hand.
“Nina—”
“I’m leaving,” she said.
Ewan shook his head. “I’m scheduled to be here until the end of the event. I can’t go just yet.”
He could see the war in her eyes. She couldn’t storm out of here, leaving him behind. Not according to the confines of her contract, which stupidly, both of them still seemed intent on honoring.
Her chin lifted again, her jaw set. “Say your good-byes to all the people who are here to salivate over you and shake the hands of your sycophants. Get started now, because it’s going to take a long time, and I’m ready to go. If something happens to you, I’ll be back to save your life. Otherwise, I’ll meet you at the transpo.”
He didn’t move at first. Neither did she. Every line of her body told him she was serious.
Ewan made his rounds, shaking hands and clapping shoulders, kissing cheeks. Making and taking promises that may or may not be kept; he didn’t care. He was done here tonight, and he wanted to get home.
Even if it meant facing an angry-with-him Nina, Ewan wanted to be with her more than anything. He wanted to make things right between them. He could only hope she’d give him the chance.
CHAPTER THREE
Nina hadn’t said a single word to Ewan on the way home. She’d never imagined herself the sort of woman who’d use cold silence as a weapon, but the truth was she couldn’t find anything to say to him that wouldn’t come out scathing. Angry. Bitter. Disgusted.
Wounded.
She wasn’t going to show him any of that, not a single hint of it, because underlying the entire tangled pile of hateful emotions was the knowledge that she’d been a fool. Clearly, her recently recovered ability to experience intense emotions meant she’d been feeling too hard, too much, too fiercely, and it had led her astray. She’d been on the verge of letting herself give in to the risky, unexpected, and loathsome hope that she could trust him again. That something was still possible between them, if only they could figure out how to make it work. She’d been wrong about him. Again.
“Hey,” he said now as she went on ahead of him into the house. “Nina. Wait.”
“It’s late,” she replied.
“Nina.” This time, the warning tone in his voice stopped her.
She had a foot on the staircase, a mere few feet inside the front door. The first time she’d come to work for Ewan, he’d been living at a vast estate, Woodhaven. After that, they’d spent a few idyllic weeks hiding out in his family’s mountain cabin, just the two of them. Even though they’d fled there to keep him safe from the multiple attacks on his life, it had still been the best few weeks of her life. At least until the end.
This new house was not a mountain cabin, but it wasn’t Woodhaven, either. It was modest in comparison. The sort of home she’d always imagined herself living in with a family—at least before she’d died and come back with a bunch of gear in her head that had made all of that impossible. She hadn’t asked Ewan why he’d brought her to this smaller and cozier house. She didn’t want him to tell her it was because he’d somehow guessed it was the kind of house she’d always dreamed of living in.
“Ewan,” she answered without facing him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For everything. How many times do I have to say it before you’ll give me another chance?”
Without replying, she went up the stairs and down the hall into her bedroom. He followed, but she’d expected him to. She could have slammed the door behind her. Locked him out. She could have avoided this confrontation the way she’d been ignoring all of his efforts at winning her back since she’d arrived, but she was tired of doing that. She wanted this confrontation, right here and now. If they were going to battle, she wanted to get it over with. Maybe then she could leave without feeling as though she’d need to look back. Without regret.
Ewan came through the doorway. “Don’t walk away from me!”
“Why? Because you’re my boss?” She swiped at the falling strands of her hair, irritated with this ostentatious style that had taken hours to put up and would probably take as long to pull down. She kicked off her shoes, curling her toes in relief at the release of pressure. Thousands of years of advances in women’s fashion, and high heels still pinched. “How dare I talk back to you, is that it?”
Ewan’s voice held a sneer. “Like that ever mattered to you before? How about because it’s rude, that’s why. And I’m tired of it.”
“Much better. That sickly sweet pleading was starting to work on all my nerves, especially the artificial ones.” She grinned, a hard baring of her teeth.
It was a deliberate zing at him and found its mark. Ewan scowled. It didn’t make him ugly, that anger. If anything, the blaze in his eyes and the set of his jaw only made him ever more beautiful to her. He was gorgeous when he looked fierce, and she despised herself for thinking so.
Ewan ran a hand through his hair, rumpling it. The familiar gesture stung her worse than any words could have. It reminded her too strongly of how close they’d been, and how far apart they were now.
Finally, Ewan said in a voice he clearly struggled to keep calm, “thank you for coming with me tonight.”
“It’s my job, isn’t it?”
“Sure, but . . .”
She waited for him to continue, but he said nothing. Nina put her hands on her hips, aware of how the motion dented the fabric around her body. She wore form-fitting uniforms all the time, but this was different. The inferno of Ewan’s gaze told her that, even if she hadn’t been able to feel it by the cling of the material.
She tilted her head and jutted a hip to emphasize her curves. His gaze grew scorching. Nina let a tiny, smug smile quirk the corner of her mouth. “You were jealous.”
“Yes.”
“Why?” It was the answer she’d expected, yet hearing it didn’t make her feel triumphant. Nina straightened her shoulders, aware of how that would direct his attention to her body and away from her face. She didn’t want him to see any hint of her real feelings. If she could barely control them, the least she could do was try to hide them.
“Because I don’t want you talking to other men,” Ewan said. “Especially not right in front of me.”
Al was no threat to him, and Nina could have cleared up that little fact with a brief explanation. She frowned, instead, both at his tone and his words, but most of all, the implication behind them. “First of all, you might own my time and even my attention, but you don’t own me and you never have.”
“I know that. I’m not trying to own you, Nina.” Ewan shook his head, his hands clenched at his sides.
“You could have,” she blurted and shut herself down before her cracking voice could betray her emotions.
A tempest raged inside her, one she was sorry she’d longed for. She breathed through parted lips, noticing how longingly he gazed at her mouth. The pain of not kissing him, not reaching for him, felt real. Physical. It was an agony she once thought she would welcome. The days when nothing could rattle her, when nothing mattered more than a moment or so, had gone, and Nina was helpless against the onslaught of her emotional upheaval. She wasn’t used to being helpless.
She loathed it.
Ewan’s mouth opened, then closed. He scowled. The expression of bleak despair in his eyes threatened to tear her apart, but she couldn’t make herself look away.
“I don’t know what else I can do, Nina. I’ve tried everything I know. I’ve never had to, before. Try, I mean. Please, please, let me know what I can do to fix this.”
She tugged at the curls pinned too close to her head and breathed a sigh when they came down more easily than anticipated. She tossed the pins on top of the dresser
as she raked through the tangles, then turned to face him. She crossed her arms over her chest and concentrated on her breathing.
“That’s the problem, Ewan. I don’t think there’s anything you can do.”
Nina had cried from anger or grief, from pain both physical and mental. She’d never believed tears were a sign of weakness, yet she refused to let them fall now. Not because she was still afraid of Ewan seeing how much he’d affected her, but because she knew that it didn’t matter how much she revealed to him. No matter how open she made herself, how vulnerable, she could never allow him to get close enough to her again to hurt her.
“I trusted you,” she said at last around the rough rasp in her throat.
This was love, she thought at the sight of Ewan’s bleak face and the bald, relentless torment in his gaze. Wanting someone even when they’d betrayed you. Aching for a kiss or an embrace, not for the physical gratification, which could be satisfied by almost any random stranger, but for the comfort of knowing your lover would protect you . . . even when you were the strong one. Perhaps especially then.
“I believed in you, Ewan. I gave you everything, and you took it, but everything you gave me . . . was a lie.”
He groaned and put the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I know. I know I messed up, Nina. I know I should have been honest with you, but I . . .”
“You what?” she challenged, when he didn’t continue. When he still didn’t speak, she strode across the room to snag his hand away from his face so he was forced to look at her. “You what, Ewan? You thought I’d never find out? You thought it wouldn’t matter to me? You knew they fitted me with tech that would need upgrades, and you knew you were the one who’d blocked all legal research and implementation of that tech. You also knew that you had all the upgrades any of us would ever need, but you were sitting on the specs. So please, convince me you had a good reason to keep all of that from me. Go ahead and tell me why you thought it could ever be a good idea for that to be a secret.”