by Anna Lowe
Nina’s eyes went wide in alarm. “Or?”
“Or we get the hell out of here and do some investigating from home.”
That was the chickenshit option, and Boone knew it, but highfalutin places like this didn’t agree with him one bit. The last time he’d been here, the fabulously wealthy thirtysomething widow of an oil tycoon had tried to coax him into her bed. When he refused, she’d made a face and pulled out a stack of hundred-dollar bills as if he were a stallion for hire who would put out simply because someone told him to.
No thanks.
Nina nodded — quickly, as if keeping her nerve up. “Let’s go in.”
She slid off the bike before he could say a word and ran her fingers through her long, shiny hair. Hair he longed to touch. To stroke. To turn in his fist and tug her in for a kiss.
Mate, his wolf hummed. She is my mate.
He gulped as Nina adjusted her windblown sarong. His heart thumped faster, saying the same thing.
Mate. My destined mate.
He cleared his throat and dismounted, trying to keep his mind on the business at hand. It was risky, letting Nina be seen, but she was right. They’d make more progress by tracking down whatever was familiar about this place than by avoiding it.
She hooked her helmet on the handlebar and took his hand. A moment later, she looked down as if just realizing what she’d done and murmured, “I hope you don’t mind.”
He wound his fingers through hers. A perfect fit.
“Nah. I don’t mind,” he said, trying to play it cool. Almost succeeding, until he slipped up and confessed, “It’s kind of nice.”
A monumental understatement, because every nerve in his body sang with joy at her touch.
She smiled, and his blood all rushed south. “It is nice.”
Hand in hand, they walked to the entrance as if they were a couple of happy honeymooners and not two people who’d just met. As much as Boone’s soul soared, though, his hopes sank. Would Nina take his hand and trust him if she knew about his wolf half?
“Hello, miss,” the valet said, flashing her a genuine smile.
“Hello, Toby,” Nina said when he held the door open for her. “Thank you.”
She was playing her part well, but her grip on Boone’s hand grew so tight, he winced.
The lobby was blindingly white with more mirrors than the Palace of Versailles, and a giant chandelier glittered overhead.
“Ah, miss. So good to see you again,” a uniformed attendant said the second they walked through the door. “I didn’t see you go out earlier.”
Boone scrutinized the man for some hint of wrongdoing — a Holy shit, you’re alive twitch of the eye or a Let me call the mafia boss right now clench of his fist. But, no — nothing, making Boone think the man was genuine.
“Oh, uh…” Nina mumbled. “I left early.”
The man gave Boone a side-eyed look of mistrust, which convinced Boone the man was all right. He wouldn’t trust a guy like himself with a girl like Nina, either. She deserved better. Richer. More ambitious.
She deserves a devoted mate. Forever, his wolf declared.
“I’ll get your key,” the man said, scurrying over to the desk.
Nina took it as if accepting a rat held out by the tail, and Boone didn’t blame her. This just got weirder and weirder. Nina was a guest here?
She fingered the key uncertainly — a real, old-fashioned key — as Boone guided her toward the elevator, studying the lobby in his peripheral vision. There were security cameras subtly tucked into every corner. A blessing or a curse? Cameras might have captured some information on Nina’s attackers, but they’d also capture Boone.
Nina looked at him with an alarmed, What now? look, but the elevator had an attendant, too. The man smiled and pointed up. “Penthouse suite. Here we go, miss.”
Nina’s step hitched at the penthouse suite part, and Boone had to tug her into the elevator, trying to exude We got this vibes.
They stood in awkward silence as the elevator rose, dinging through one floor after another.
“Here you go. Have a nice day,” the bellhop said when they reached the top floor.
The doors rolled open, and Boone gave Nina a nudge when she breathed, “Wow.”
Then he caught sight of what lay ahead, and he nearly froze, too. Wow was right.
Chapter Seven
“Wow,” Nina whispered for the second time.
She made it two steps out of the elevator before stuttering to a halt and looking around. They’d stepped into a spacious foyer with a round table and a huge bouquet of tropical flowers — a foyer that opened directly into the most luxurious apartment she had ever seen. Not that she’d seen many, but she’d leafed through the pages of magazines. And, wow. If there were centerfolds for luxury living, this would be it.
That wasn’t a wall painted blue — that was the view. An unobstructed ocean view, forming a turquoise strip that ran along a wide terrace that spanned the entire left half of the building’s top floor. The interior was decorated in cool grays with burgundy highlights, with a giant screen built into one wall and paintings on the others. Big, vibrant paintings that could have filled a museum hall. A fresh bouquet of anthurium and bird of paradise stood on the entrance hall table, their fragrance tickling her nose.
She turned to gape at Boone as the elevator doors closed. “Is this really my room?”
“Your penthouse suite, Nina.”
She shook her head. Her memory was full of blanks, but she was sure she’d never heard her name and penthouse suite in the same sentence before. She couldn’t possibly afford a place like this.
It was grander than grand, yet part of her longed to rush back to Boone’s feet-in-the-sand beach bungalow. That was more her style. Cozy. Comfortably worn. Homey.
“Hang on,” he said, sweeping past her. He paused in the entryway, sheltering her body with his, then strode across the room and yanked open one door after another. In the blink of an eye, he’d gone from low-key honeymooner to private bodyguard on full alert. His movements were quick and calculated, his steps silent. His eyes roved everywhere, reminding her of the ugly truth. Someone had tried to murder her, but that was on a boat. Did Boone believe there was danger here, too?
She walked to the terrace and braced both hands on the railing — the next best thing to hugging Boone’s waist as she’d done on the motorcycle. It didn’t bring her the same sense of security, but it helped — a little — as the doubts and fears engulfed her all over again. There had to be some mistake. She didn’t vacation at luxury resorts like this. She didn’t do anything to attract murders. She didn’t—
Squeezing her eyes closed, she fought the panic away. She was here to try to remember something — something other than that awful night on the motorboat. She gritted her teeth, trying to be as businesslike as Boone. Twenty minutes ago, she’d been happily drifting away in daydreams of her and Boone, kissing while slowly peeling off layers of clothes. Now, all the fear and anxiety were back as she looked around.
The terrace stretched on and on like the private deck of a cruise ship. There was an ivy-covered wall on the right where the adjoining penthouse would be. On the left, the terrace wrapped around a corner and opened into a huge outdoor living space with couches, lounge chairs, and a bar. Potted plants with oversized leaves gave the suite the feel of a luxury treehouse, with the tallest palms swaying at eye level outside. The view was to die for, from sailboats bobbing at anchor in the foreground to the vastness of the Pacific — a sheet of blue broken only by the gentle slope of another island in the distance.
To die for. She snorted. Heaven knew she’d come close.
She let her eyes sweep over every table and shelf, trying to think like a detective. If she really had been staying in that suite, she hadn’t been there long, because the place was virtually untouched. No paperbacks lying on the coffee table, no bottle of sunscreen by the lounge chairs. No hat, no beach towel. Nothing.
“Nina,” Boone hissed,
motioning her inside.
He stood at the doorway to a bedroom, every muscle tensed, and when she came close, he took her hand and gestured. “There’s no one here, but…”
She peeked into the bedroom and gasped. The white sheets of the king-size bed were knotted on the floor, and pillows lay discarded around the room. A suitcase lay overturned, and clothes were strewn everywhere. The place had been ransacked.
“Do you recognize anything?” Boone asked.
She was about to say no when something in her brain clicked, and just like that, the answer was yes. Those were her favorite cutoff shorts. That green shirt was the one she’d been so proud of finding at a thrift shop for only a few dollars. And the tattered brown teddy bear that had been discarded upside-down by the dresser—
She cried out and ran over, then clutched it to her chest and rocked it like a baby. She squeezed her eyes tight a second too late to stop the tears.
Boone touched her shoulder gently and whispered, “Are you okay?”
She shook her head. Was the answer yes or no?
“My mother…” She choked on the words. That teddy bear was her mother’s childhood toy, one of the few things she’d kept through the fifty-six years of her life. Nina had pulled it out of an old trunk and brought it to her mother in the hospital a month before—
She gulped. A month before her mother died.
“It’s April, right?” she whispered.
Boone didn’t answer right away. He probably thought she was nuts. “Yes.”
Nina rocked the teddy bear. April meant May was around the corner — along with the third anniversary of her mother’s death. Yet the sorrow was as fresh as it had been the day she’d held her mother’s hand for the last time.
It’s all right, sweetie. My time is up, but yours has just begun. Her mother’s words echoed through her mind. Now you can really live, and live free.
Nina’s ears burned, and a lump built in her throat. She hadn’t exactly been living her mother’s last wish, had she? Too many debts, too many bills. Why so many, she couldn’t remember. That was still buried with the rest of her memories. But at least she had this one back.
Boone squeezed her shoulder once and stepped away, giving her the privacy she craved. A second later, she heard him speaking softly into his phone.
“Hunter? Listen, I need you and Cruz here. Right now.”
His voice faded as he walked away, and Nina let herself sink into newfound memories for a while. Good ones, like gardening with her mother in their tiny handkerchief of a yard. Sad ones, like reading aloud when the chemo had weakened her mother to the point that she couldn’t hold a book by herself. Bittersweet ones, like the two of them walking along a lakeshore with their elbows linked on one of her mother’s good days.
Other memories lurked amidst the ones focused on her mother, but she fought them away. This was enough for now. Enough love to last her a lifetime — and enough sorrow, too. Enough wisdom in the echo of the sayings her mother had loved.
Don’t wait for a good day. Make it a good day.
Happiness is a recipe you create with whatever ingredients life provides.
Every great journey starts with one small step.
Nina pulled herself together slowly and sat on the edge of the bed, wiping her cheeks. Her mother had never felt sorry for herself; she always soldiered on. Nina tipped her chin up and took a deep breath. Time to do the same.
She looked at her own reflection in the mirror. There she was with the teddy bear in a pose just like one from a photo she was suddenly desperate to hold — the one of her at about age four, with her mother curled behind her and the bear cuddled in her lap. A girl with so many dreams, a mother with so many hopes.
A quiet scuffing sound drew her attention to the doorway, and she looked up. It was Boone, tilting his head at her with an expression that asked if she needed him or preferred some time alone.
And just like that, the little girl’s dreams became the hopes of a woman, and she swallowed hard. Boone had captivated her from the start. And just like the first night when he’d carried her so carefully from the beach, his soul called to hers. She’d never felt that around a man. She’d never wanted to trust so readily or to be so reassured. And right now, she needed him. Her mother had taught her to stand on her own two feet, but damn — she sure wouldn’t mind a shoulder to lean on.
Not trusting her voice, Nina motioned Boone over, and he sat down beside her on the bed. A slightly different version of Boone — a quieter, more serious one. No wisecracks, no charming smile. Just those bottomless blue eyes, so incredibly sincere. He looped an arm over her shoulders, pulled her in, and pressed his lips to her forehead.
“You good?” he murmured.
She wiped her eyes and nodded quickly. She was now.
He tucked his chin over her head and held her for a good three minutes without saying a word. He smelled so good, she closed her eyes and inhaled, pushing everything else away. Leaning into him felt so nice, she had to fight the urge to burrow closer.
But, whoa. She barely knew this man. What was she doing, weeping in his arms?
“Sorry,” she sniffed, forcing herself away, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
“Memories,” he murmured, as if he knew exactly how she felt. “It would be nice if we could just keep the good ones, huh?” His smile wavered for a moment, and he closed his eyes, making her wonder where his sorrows lay.
A moment later, he cleared his throat and went all soldier again. “Are you okay to get your things? We need to get out of here soon.”
She managed a shaky nod. If he could hide the urgency in his voice, she could hide her fear. Because all of a sudden, she was back in reality. Her hotel room — correction, her penthouse suite — had been ransacked, probably by her would-be killers. Boone was right about moving on. Coming here had been a gamble, and it was time to leave.
When Boone stood, she followed, forcing herself into gear. Boone stalked around the suite like a soldier at a post surrounded by enemy snipers, while she grabbed clothes and stuffed them in a small bag.
“Here,” Boone said, handing her the phone. “Tell the front desk to let Hunter and Cruz in.”
She made a quick call to the receptionist who called her miss and replied to every request with Of course, making her wonder what the heck she was doing in a place this fancy. Initially, she’d suspected they had her mixed up with someone else, but the teddy bear proved she truly was a guest. But who was paying for this level of luxury? What was she doing in Hawaii, so far from home?
She blinked as another little recollection hit her. New Jersey. That’s where the little house with the creaky stairs she’d lived in her whole life stood.
“I’m pretty sure you don’t have to make your own bed in a place like this,” Boone said from the doorway.
She stopped, not even aware of what she’d been doing. Then she carried on anyway. At least the cleaners wouldn’t think she was a slob, and tidying was her way of wrestling control back from whoever had ransacked her room. When she finished, she packed the teddy bear carefully into the backpack and stepped into the living room.
“What do you think?” she asked in a hush.
Boone tipped his head one way then the other. “They were looking for something. Maybe they didn’t want you dead so much as they wanted something.”
Nina wracked her mind, trying to think what that thing might be. Then the elevator bell dinged, and Boone whirled to face it, sweeping her behind his body like a one-man army. Nina held her breath, half expecting six assassins to leap out with their guns trained on her head. But when the doors parted, only Hunter and Cruz stepped out.
Well, stormed out was more like it, because they both swept around opposite sides of the room, checking every door, peering around corners for potential enemies before uttering so much as a brief hello.
“Should we call the police?” she asked Boone.
He shook his head. “Not yet, at least. Right now, whoever pulled
this shit doesn’t know you’re alive. I’d like to keep it that way.”
“How long do you think that will last?” Cruz grumbled.
Nina bit her lip. Cruz was right. Now that she’d been seen at the hotel, it was only a question of time before her would-be killers discovered she was still alive. Would they come back for another attempt?
Her knees wobbled, but just when she thought she might crumple to the floor and go back to hugging the teddy bear in despair, Boone took her arm.
“It will be okay.” His tone was determined, the words a hoarse whisper. “We’ll take care of you.”
Behind Boone, Hunter shot her a bolstering smile, and even Cruz gave a grim nod. The three of them couldn’t be more different, but they were a band of brothers who’d been baptized by fire at some point in the past. Men who stuck together through thick and thin.
“Ready to go?” Boone asked.
She’d barely nodded when the men closed ranks around her and stepped toward the entrance as one. It was terrifying yet reassuring at the same time.
“Stairs,” Cruz murmured. He took cover before opening the door then pronounced all clear.
Nina had never been in a tank, but heck, she sure felt like it. The men were that solid, that tightly clustered around her. They moved with military precision, scanning the area, barely making a sound. Her own personal Secret Service unit, that’s what it was like. No one could get to her in that huddle of muscle. Hell, she could barely see over them. She didn’t want to, either, because fixing her gaze on Boone’s broad back worked wonders in terms of chasing her fears away with every step.
“Oh, miss!” the receptionist called out when they emerged into the lobby and headed for the front door.
Nina almost felt sorry for the receptionist, because Boone, Hunter, and Cruz whirled and glared. They held their arms out from their sides likes gunmen ready to draw, and she swore she heard Boone growl.
“Yes?” Nina said, trying to assure her self-proclaimed bodyguards everything was all right.
“Those packages that came for you — would you like them now?”