He’s her undercover bodyguard—but she can’t know

A Coldwater Bay Intrigue story

When someone tries to kill former government agent Jonna Strand, Ian Brady comes to her rescue. Now Ian must keep Jonna safe and catch the would-be killer—without revealing he was sent undercover to protect her. But when Jonna learns the truth, can she look past his secrets and lean on him to ensure they live through the storm-ridden night?

ELIZABETH GODDARD is the award-winning author of more than thirty novels and novellas. A 2011 Carol Award winner, she was a double finalist in the 2016 Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense, and a 2016 Carol Award finalist. Elizabeth graduated with a computer science degree and worked in high-level software sales before retiring to write full-time.

Also by Elizabeth Goddard

Love Inspired Suspense

Coldwater Bay Intrigue

Thread of Revenge

Stormy Haven

Texas Ranger Holidays

Texas Christmas Defender

Wilderness, Inc.

Targeted for Murder

Undercover Protector

False Security

Wilderness Reunion

Mountain Cove

Buried

Untraceable

Backfire

Submerged

Tailspin

Deception

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Stormy Haven

Elizabeth Goddard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08596-0

STORMY HAVEN

© 2018 Elizabeth Goddard

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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The hooded man aimed a gun at Jonna.

Ian lunged at the man, ramming into him to at least throw off his aim. Gunfire resounded in his ears. The weapon went off before he could stop it.

Cold, brutal waves washed over them as he fought the attacker. A fist filled Ian’s vision. Pain radiated across his face. Salt water washed into his nose and burned.

Ian shoved the man down in the wet sand and pinned the man’s arms behind his back. But the ocean gripped them both. Ian floundered as the current ripped the man from him and pulled Ian under. He held his breath, trying to gain his footing again. He met the sand on his knees, broken shells cutting into his flesh as he gasped and choked on water. Hands gripped him, and he wrestled someone to the ground.

Too late he recognized the feminine form beneath him. “Jonna!”

“We have to get out of here. It’s too dangerous!” she yelled.

For in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion: in the secret of his tabernacle shall he hide me;

he shall set me up upon a rock.

—Psalms 27:5

Dedicated to my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

You’re the King of my heart.

Acknowledgments

Thank you to all my writing buddies for your encouragement through the years on this long writing road. It’s been an adventure, to be sure. And special thanks goes to my family—thank you for putting up with me while I get lost in my writing world. I couldn’t do this without you. Elizabeth Mazer—I’m so grateful for the opportunities you’ve given me to write for you. To my agent, Steve Laube, thank you for seeing something in me, for believing in me.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Bible Verse

Dedication

Acknowledgments

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

Dear Reader

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

Only three more miles...

Rain pelted Jonna Strand as she jogged the wintry Washington shoreline. Her cheeks grew numb from the wet cold as white vapor clouds puffed out of her burning lungs.

But as focused as she was on her run, a subtle alarm snaked up her spine.

She’d learned long ago to pay attention to that sixth sense that forewarned of danger. The alarm going off now had nothing at all to do with the storm that had advanced from far out in the Pacific faster than meteorologists had predicted, catching Jonna off guard.

She remained on high alert—a souvenir from her previous training as an ICE agent. More specifically an HSI special agent—the Homeland Security Investigations division of Immigration and Customs Enforcement. She’d put that life behind her, but the training remained.

Jogging six miles every day, she made an effort to stay as fit as she’d been while in law enforcement, the job she’d left three years ago. Even brutal winter storms couldn’t keep her inside. Except weathermen had predicted this system would wreak havoc and threaten lives—so maybe she should have stayed inside, especially given that her instincts warned another possible threat loomed.

Up on the ridge overlooking the beach, a man jogged, keeping pace with her. Only a crazy person would be out in this storm. She could almost laugh at that.

But she felt something was off.

Jonna shoved the apprehension aside and focused on her jog. She’d know soon enough if her instincts were right.

God, please let me be wrong.

Just two more miles...

Then she’d reach the Oceanview Lodge, where she and her guests could watch the wind, rain and waves buffet the coast.

Her business thrived on the winter weather drama that drew people from all over the country. Since the lodge perched on a bluff overlooking a rocky section of the beach, her clients were protected from the hazards posed by seriously high waves as they dashed magnificently against rocky outcroppings, or crashed into the beach.

Like today’s storm that threatened high winds, twenty-foot waves and a significant surge in sea level. Citizens of the town of Windsurf had placed warning signs on the beach about the dangers of sneaker waves and ocean swells. Jonna had assisted in the placement of the signs, and she should have been back before the brunt of the storm hit. No matter. She would be okay as long as she kept clear of the sneaker waves.

Never turn your back on the water.

Never turn your back on the past.

The foreboding thought caught her by surprise. In coming back to Washington, she’d tried to do just that. So far, it had worked.

Far from the threats of her past career, she’d found a sense of peace here in Windsurf on the Pacific side of Coldwater Bay. A few small towns bordered the bay and a peninsula separated them from the ocean.

With her training and her trustworthy Sig Sauer P320 Compact, which she had affectionately named Max, she could take care of herself while she enjoyed managing this peaceful lodge—a stormy haven where she could watch the storms from a safe distance.

The inclement weather wouldn’t prevent her from running.

And neither would a stalker. Was her follower the man who’d already abducted and murdered five women along the Washington coast over the last six months? The Shoreline Killer?

If so, then he’d just picked the wrong woman to mess with.

Or was it someone from her past? Her old boss in Miami, Gil Reeves, had contacted her not long ago—to catch up, he’d said. See how she was doing. Then he’d casually mentioned her name had come up in intel chatter. He’d been giving her a heads-up.

It had been three years since she left. Why would anyone care to talk about her, much less find her, then follow her here? She was no threat to any criminal operations these days. There was no reason to attack her and bring an investigation down on themselves.

A violent gust caused her to misstep, but she righted herself and second-guessed her decision to run outside no matter the weather. A wave could wash up and sweep her away, rip her off the beach and take her out into the depths. Or it could wash over her, carrying driftwood that could knock her unconscious.

Either scenario would result in her death.

She had to get back to the safety of the lodge, but another part of her wanted to face off with man on the ridge pacing her.

Except she hadn’t brought Max. So better to head straight home, where she could arm herself.

She was almost there.

Just beyond the rocky outcropping ahead of her, rustic steps led up to her lodge on the ridge.

Dark, angry clouds bled into an equally dark ocean, blurring the line where sky met sea. The breakers rolled in, reached higher and crashed harder. Jonna stayed just out of reach, her breaths coming faster as she ran on the wet sand, her running shoes leaving footprints that quickly melted away.

Salty ocean spray lashed at her, taunting her. The ocean swelled. Her heart hammered as she ran. If she could make it back to the lodge and grab her gun, then she could find the guy and get some answers.

Fear and determination fueled her steps.

Dread surged as a wave towered up and arched over—a sea monster opening its mouth wide, baring ugly sharp teeth ready to chomp down and consume her whole. Jonna barely escaped.

When she glanced over her shoulder at the ridge, the guy was gone. She was alone in the storm after all.

He hadn’t followed.

Had her instincts been wrong? Was she that rusty?

Relief surged as she neared the lodge. She waited until the crashing waves subsided so she could make her way around the rocks.

A gust of wind forced cold into her marrow, despite her rain-resistant cold-weather jogging garb. Running today had been the absolute worst idea.

Before another wave crashed forward and the ocean surged, blocking her path, Jonna had to get past those rocks.

The hooded man stepped around them and aimed a gun at her.

* * *

Ian Brady was too late.

He lunged at the man with the gun pointed at Jonna, ramming into him to at least throw off his aim. Gunfire resounded in his ears. The weapon went off before he could stop it.

Cold, brutal waves washed over them as he fought the man and disarmed him. Thankfully, the receding waves whisked the gun away. A fist filled his vision. Pain radiated across his face. Salt water washed into his nose and burned.

Ian drew from his experience and training to ignore the pain. He shoved the attacker down in the wet sand and pinned his arms behind his back, then lugged him to his feet. He had the man securely contained in his grip. Now to haul him off to the sheriff.

Except Ian was fighting another assailant now. The Pacific gripped them both. Ian floundered as the current ripped the man from his grasp. Tossed him. Icy cold water pulled Ian under. He held his breath, trying to gain his footing again. He met the sand on his knees, broken shells cutting into his flesh as he gasped and choked water. Hands gripped him, and he wrestled someone to the ground.

Too late he recognized the feminine form beneath him. “Jonna!” The woman who ran the lodge where he stayed.

And the woman Ian had been sent to secretly protect.

“We have to get out of here—it’s too dangerous,” she yelled over the cacophonous storm.

Now she was trying to protect him?

He pulled her to her feet. Together they ran away from the angry ocean to the stairway that climbed the cliffside and carefully maneuvered the slippery steps to the landing. They stopped beneath the shelter of her lodge’s terrace. Driving winds and lashing rain accosted them even under the covered porch. At least they weren’t still on the beach. Below, the ocean boiled and waves collided with rocks and blasted the shoreline.

In the distance, Jonna’s would-be killer crawled onto the beach. At first he floundered when another wave tried to take him, then he found his footing and fled. The guy was too fortunate. He was also too far up the beach for Ian to give chase, but he couldn’t just let the man get away so easily. On the landing of the steps, Ian watched the shooter head for another set of stairs up the cliff to make his escape from the raging waves. Ian started to run after him, but Jonna grabbed his arm.

Surprised at the strength in her grip, he turned to face her.

“Come on.” Turmoil lingered behind her brown eyes as her gaze pled with him. “Let me get you inside.”

Jonna acted like the protector here—her law-enforcement background coming through.

“No. He tried to shoot you. I want to catch him and find out who he is. Maybe I can get to him if I take my car.”

Her lips hardened in a flat line as she lifted her chin. “We’ll take mine.”

She guided him around the lodge to a single-car parking garage. They entered to find her silver GMC Terrain and climbed into the unlocked vehicle. She quickly fished the keys from the visor.

The wind rattled the structure. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked. “You could stay here while I search for him.” Ian had only meant to protect her, but he had realized his mistake too late. Still... “The guy tried to kill you, Jonna. Not me. It’s safer if you stay here.” Plus, she’d just finished a six-mile jog and her energy could very well be spent, but he knew to say no more.

Starting the ignition, she sent him a tempered glare. Wouldn’t do to glare at a guest, but Ian had insulted her.

Jonna backed from the garage, then took off down the street. She probably wanted to speed, but rain plastered the windshield, rendering the wipers useless.

“Careful now. I don’t know how you can see anything.”

“I’m being careful. I know my way around. You look for the guy while I drive.” The hint of a bite edged her tone.

Clearly, Jonna didn’t like being coddled. Ian focused on searching for the man. Had he gotten into a vehicle and left the area already? Had someone been waiting for him in a getaway car? If the storm would ease up, maybe he could actually see something, but he had a feeling their efforts were futile. His face throbbed from the punch, and his body ached from the damp cold that soaked through him as he sat dripping in her vehicle.

As if finally realizing it was cold, Jonna flipped on the heat. Chilled air flayed him. It would take a few minutes for it to warm up. Ian almost regretted her move.

“We weren’t that far behind him. I hope he didn’t get away.” He scanned the cars parked in the street and the few driving the road despite the sheets of rain. “Why did the guy try to shoot you?”

He tossed the words out to get her talking. Ian had been sent to protect her from a possible attack, but he wasn’t certain she knew she was being targeted. And even if she did, she wouldn’t expect him to know about it. She didn’t know why he was here, which made his task more difficult.

Her long, dark hair plastered to her head, she glanced his way intermittently. Droplets clung to her pale face. Even drenched she was drop-dead gorgeous.

“I don’t know. But he was pacing me up on the ridge while I jogged the beach.”

Guilt suffused him that she’d been running alone without him there to keep watch until it was nearly too late. He’d assumed she wouldn’t jog today. The old adage about assumptions came to mind. But that wasn’t good enough. She could have died today, and that would be another failure. Another life he’d cost.

“You’re usually out jogging the beach too,” she said. “Where were you this morning? Not afraid of a little rain, were you?”

“No, not a little rain. But I read the warning signs and they deterred me. I wasn’t going to jog in the storm. Why did you?” He really wanted to know the answer to that. He needed to understand her better if he was going to protect her.

“I trusted the weather app I use to tell me when the dangerous part of the storm system would hit. According to the meteorologists, I had a couple of hours to jog. That strategy has worked well enough for me until today.”

“You could have been swept away. There’s no surviving those violent waters.”

“I run a storm-watching inn, don’t you think I know that?” she asked. “No need to worry about me.”

“Maybe we should jog together from now on, if we don’t catch this guy right now.” He’d offered earlier to jog with her, but she’d insisted she needed the time alone since she ran a lodge. So he’d given her the space. If she suspected Ian had an agenda, she didn’t show it.

He watched out the window to see if he could catch a glimpse of the guy. Indecision roiled in his gut. Hired by his uncle Gil, the Special Agent in Charge of the Department of Homeland Security’s Miami field office, Ian was here to watch over Jonna. Uncle Gil had been Jonna’s boss, and even though she’d left HSI, he still felt an obligation to keep her safe. Especially from the criminals she’d angered in her years of service. He’d made it clear he didn’t want Jonna to know Ian had been sent.

Like most law-enforcement officers, Jonna would believe she could take care of herself—after all, she’d been trained to do so—and she would send Ian away. Or worse—she’d hightail it back to Miami, furious that someone had come to Washington to find her. Uncle Gil didn’t want Jonna back in Florida. He’d hired Ian to watch and report if he saw anything suspicious, as well as protect Jonna if necessary.

According to Uncle Gil, three years ago, Jonna had just finished wrapping up a human-trafficking-ring case when she went missing. The department feared she was dead, but then she called Gil and explained she’d been attacked and left to die in a marsh. The guy probably thought he’d succeeded in killing her.

She’d woken up in a hospital in a small town off the Florida coast and walked out before she answered their questions. She didn’t have the answers they were looking for—she didn’t know who had shot her or why. The injury, the whole experience of lying there in the marsh and waiting to die, had been too traumatic. In order to cope, her mind had buried those memories out of her reach.

She resigned over the phone. Gil managed to keep the information out of the media. As far as the man who’d shot her knew, she was dead, that is, if he even questioned or came asking. But recently her name had popped up via an informant—and Gil was worried she would be targeted again.

What could she know that would make her a target?

“I wonder if it’s the Shoreline Killer,” she said. “I need to call the sheriff.”

“Let’s say it wasn’t the Shoreline Killer. Could it have been a disgruntled guest?”

Jonna quirked her face. “Are you kidding me?”

Ian stifled a laugh. “Look, I’m not saying there’s actually anything to complain about at your lodge. Not at all. But didn’t anyone ever tell you that you can’t please all the people all the time? Just humor me. Could someone have been unhappy?”

“Enough to try to kill me? No.”

Ian didn’t think so either but he had to ask. “Any acquaintances outside of the lodge, then? Or...” Is there anyone from your past with a grudge? Ian couldn’t say that or he’d give himself away.

“What’s with the questions? You sound like a detective.”

Maybe he already had given himself away.

“Just a concerned guest, that’s all.” And while his motives were more complex than that, he really was concerned. When Ian had learned that Jonna had gone jogging, he’d rushed out and down the landing steps to join her, even in the storm. That’s when he’d spotted a man watching her from behind the rocks.

A man with a gun.

A man who seemed to have made a clean getaway. Ian didn’t see the shooter anywhere. How could he in this storm? Trees swayed and rain rippled like sheets in the wind. The guy had likely escaped in a vehicle and was long gone.

“Thank you for your concern, but there’s no need.” She sighed and glanced around the interior. “Like I said, we should call the sheriff. I need to find my phone. I hope it survived.”

“You don’t have a waterproof cell? I’d think that would be a priority for someone who lives here.” He sent her a wry grin and tugged his own phone out from a protective pocket. “Let’s see. Looks like my waterproof cell really is waterproof. Let me give the authorities a call and tell them what happened.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll head back. But I don’t need emergency vehicles showing up at the lodge. I don’t want my guests to worry or be afraid.”

“Then you can be glad the shooter picked a location on the other side of those rocks. Your guests probably didn’t see a thing.” What if Ian hadn’t gone after her? His gut tensed.

He’d failed to protect before. He couldn’t let that happen again—had left that life behind so he wouldn’t find himself in this position. He wouldn’t even be here trying if Uncle Gil hadn’t needed someone he could trust. Ian hoped he didn’t let the man down. Or that he didn’t let Jonna down, though she had no idea why he was here.

She drove down Main Street in Windsurf while he focused on his cell and called the sheriff’s department to relay the message about the shooter. Someone would meet them at the Oceanview Lodge in short order.

She steered into her garage and closed the door behind them, muting the sound of the winter storm. The call made, he remained sitting in the GMC, wrestling with how much to tell her.

Indecision and exhaustion weighed on Ian. “We should get back inside and get out of these cold wet clothes. We need to be ready for the authorities when they get here.”

Covering her eyes with her hands, she nodded, then quickly dropped them. Flashed him a tenuous look. “Thanks, Mr. Brady. I should already have thanked you. You saved my life.”

“I know you like all your guests to call you Jonna so it’s not so formal, but then you keep the formality on your end. How about you call me Ian instead? I’d prefer it, actually.”

Ian and Jonna had spent plenty of evenings sitting near the big roaring fireplace in the common area and talking well into the night along with other guests. Still, she’d kept the formality with him, just like she did with all her customers, calling them by their surnames. It went hand in hand with her insistence that she could take care of herself, her determination to keep her distance from others and not let anyone near. Couldn’t reveal any weakness. He understood that mentality. That’s why when he looked at Jonna, he could see right through the tough veneer she projected to the soft side she hid away—a side he very much wanted to know more about, against his better judgment.

Ian didn’t mind the extra barrier between them. He wasn’t sure why he’d removed it now.

“I like to keep the lines drawn so there’s no confusion.” Her brow wrinkled, and she held his gaze for a bit longer than necessary. “All right, Ian. You saved my life on the beach today. I owe you.”

“I think we’re even, considering you pulled me out of the water before the ocean took me.”

Though she shot him a soft smile, a tempest brewed in her eyes. “You wouldn’t have been caught in those waves if you hadn’t been trying to save me. I don’t want to put any of my guests in danger. And I don’t want them to panic either, so I hope you won’t mention this to them if they didn’t see it for themselves until it’s determined they could also be at risk.”

“I won’t mention it. But once someone from the sheriff’s department arrives the rumors will fly.”

“True. I guess we’ll see what happens.” Her brow furrowed. “If it’s the Shoreline Killer, the guests should be told what happened for their own safety. I’ll let the sheriff decide if the guests should be informed.” She faced him, her caramel-brown eyes taking him in. “While I’m grateful for your help, you should know that normally I can take care of myself. It was a lapse on my part. I’ll be more careful next time.”

She got out of her Terrain.

Ian slowly opened the door and climbed out too. While Jonna might believe she could take care of herself, all that tactical training and situational awareness could only go so far when a vendetta became personal. Ian had learned that the hard way.

He didn’t doubt her capabilities, but everyone needed someone to watch their back now and then.

Especially if the man who thought he’d killed her in Florida had come for her again.

Now he better understood Uncle Gil’s directive that he should hang around to watch over her without letting her know he was her secret bodyguard.

TWO

Jonna hadn’t missed Ian’s skill in taking the man down. He’d been ready to march the man right up the beach and call the authorities—she’d seen it in the determined stance of his shoulders and the resolve on his rugged features. And he’d nearly succeeded. Did he have a military background?

But the ocean had had different plans for both men, tossing them like they were nothing more than driftwood. Fear for Ian’s life had corded her neck. She couldn’t let the ocean take him, and had willingly risked her own life to pull him out before it was too late. Nothing heroic on her part—just a balancing of the scales. She owed him for saving her. He hadn’t hesitated going after the guy to protect her, and without his quick action, she might be dead now.

She needed to be more alert. More prepared. From now on, she’d jog with her Sig, Max, like she should have to begin with. In fact, she’d take Max everywhere.

Aware Ian studied her, Jonna led him to the door that connected her garage to the main lodge, hoping she could escape to her own private cabin on the south side of the structure without encountering her guests. A short enclosed walkway connected the cabin to the lodge, for which she was grateful, especially on an occasion like this when she was chilled to the bone, but she wished they would have connected the garage to her cabin as well. To enter through her private entrance outside the lodge, she’d have to go out into the storm again.

Hands trembling, she accidentally dropped her keys on the concrete floor.

Ian snatched them up, beating her to it, and handed them over. Their fingers brushed.

His blue eyes had grown dark and piercing, more gray like the storm outside. “Are you okay?”

The intensity of his gaze unsettled her and she hesitated before responding. “As soon as I get out of these wet clothes I’ll be better.”

“Same here. Let’s meet in the common area after we change,” he said. “We can wait for the sheriff’s department together.”

She nodded her agreement. “The deputy in the Windsurf Substation can get here faster than someone coming from the county sheriff’s department, which is just under an hour away, even if the storm slows him down a little. Unless he’s assisting someone else, which could very well be the case in this weather.”

Ian on her heels, she hurried through the door, wanting to retreat before he could see just how the incident on the beach had shaken her. The adrenaline was beginning to crash. Not good. She had to hold it together for a few more hours.

Inside the lodge, she could see her guests clinging to big mugs of coffee or hot chocolate and enjoying baked goods. Her employees often baked up muffins, or they purchased breakfast foods from the restaurant next door to the lodge for those guests who didn’t want to venture out into the storm to eat at the restaurant for a bigger menu.

Everyone was focused on the panoramic windows overlooking the storm’s wrath and nature’s spectacular display.

Good, she could slip away and gather her composure.

Before she turned the corner that led to the short walkway to her cabin, Ian touched her arm. She hesitated, then slowed but kept her back to him. Couldn’t he just go to his room and change? Leave her be?

“Someone just tried to kill you. Be careful, Jonna. I’m worried about you.”

“You don’t expect me to find an attacker in my room, do you?” She’d teased, but the possibility corded her throat with a measure of fear.

Ridiculous. She shrugged off the apprehension.

“I could check it for you first.” His voice held genuine concern.

If only that didn’t warm her to her toes. She turned to face him and tossed him an easy smile, hoping she could hide her fear. “You don’t have to worry about me. I can—”

“I know. You can take care of yourself.”

He’d finished the sentence for her, but she read all too easily the doubt in his searching blue eyes. And what he didn’t say.

The guy had gotten away. If he had targeted her specifically, he could come back and attack again at any time. Who was he? Was it the Shoreline Killer? Or maybe the man who’d shot and left her for dead in Miami?

If it was the man from Miami, would she recognize him if she saw him, considering that much of what happened had been lost in the recesses of her mind? Some of her memories of that incident were as clear as Ian standing before her now. But she couldn’t remember the face of the man who had shot her.

Maybe...maybe it had nothing at all to do with what happened in Miami, and the man on the beach this morning really had been the Shoreline Killer.

Ian had saved her today. Protection poured off of him. She had the sudden urge to go to Ian and let him wrap his arms around her. To be held and comforted and protected. But Jonna shoved the unbidden thoughts away and stood taller. She walked backward, willing herself to want nothing more than to feel the door to her cabin—her safe haven—against her back.

“I’ll meet you ten minutes in front of the fireplace, okay?”

“See you then.” He waited until she’d walked the rest of the length of the enclosure and opened and closed her door.

Jonna snuck a glance through the peephole. He lingered a few more seconds and then disappeared around the corner.

Pressing her back against the door, she calmed her pounding heart. She rushed to the side table and opened the drawer. Withdrew Max, then searched her cabin just to be sure she was alone. Chop Suey, her big tabby cat—a Maine Coon—snoozed on the top of the maroon thrift-shop armchair next to the window, without a care in the world, oblivious to the tension rolling through Jonna.

She wanted to collapse on the sofa. Too much had happened in the last hour, not the least of which was one of her guests turning out to be a hero.

He’d booked a room in the main lodge a little over a week ago, and since then, she’d found herself looking at him now and again. Taking in his strong features and lithe physique. His thick, mussed black hair that hugged his collar. She’d imagined running her fingers through that hair, and then scolded herself for the silly fantasy. She shouldn’t have these entirely too-personal thoughts. She couldn’t allow herself the luxury of a relationship. But she kept wondering if there was a Mrs. Brady. Or if he waited here, expecting a close friend to show up. She shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts about one of her guests.

She learned her lesson a couple of years after Aunt Debby had bought the lodge—a fixer-upper—as an investment. She’d hired Jonna to run the place, keeping her niece’s name out of the paperwork for now. Peter was the contractor who’d helped renovate and restore the building.

She could easily have fallen for Peter. He was handsome. Charming. Clearly interested in her. Maybe she’d still been vulnerable after what she’d endured. Peter had been there to comfort her and...he’d asked too many questions about her life and her past. He’d only wanted to get to know her better, but she didn’t want to revisit the ugliness in Miami. Her reluctance to answer his questions had frustrated and then angered him as he demanded to know what she was hiding. The relationship that could have been fell apart quickly after that. And so she’d put Peter behind her, just like she’d put behind her everything that had happened in Miami.

She got up and peeked through the mini blinds and out the window to make sure the man hadn’t made his way back. The storm still raged outside. Maybe that would deter him for a while.

She settled at the kitchen table and thought back to her messed-up life.

If she couldn’t share all of her life with Peter, then she had no business letting the relationship go deeper.

Nothing had changed. She was still too broken, and could never truly let herself be vulnerable enough to love or be loved.

And now with this attack on her life, she realized she could never let down her guard. Trouble seemed to find her one way or another.

She’d endangered a guest today, but she was grateful he’d stepped into the fray.

Since Ian had checked in at her lodge, they’d forged a laid-back friendship, neither of them sharing too much about themselves. Just enough to make conversation and still hold everything close. At least that had been her intention, and she sensed he was no different.

While his friendship had been just right—exactly what she’d needed, she feared that if given too much leeway, her heart could easily step across the line she’d drawn. Somehow she had to keep her heart from betraying her.

Enough of these thoughts! Someone from the sheriff’s department could already be here.

After donning warm slacks, a floral T-shirt and soft sweater, she quickly towel dried her hair. It would have to do. She put on blush and lipstick, then paused as she stared at herself. She hardly ever used makeup unless it was a special occasion where she was dressed to impress.

What am I doing? Some part of her had wanted to look good for Ian, but that was ridiculous. She absolutely wasn’t going there with him or anyone. She couldn’t afford to.

Jonna exited her cabin and entered the lodge, fireflies dancing in her stomach at not only meeting Ian again, but also facing the substation deputy, Ollie Shane. Or would Sheriff Garrison himself show up? That would depend on where he was in the county when the call came through.

She hurried around the corner to the large living area comfortably decorated and boasting a massive fireplace and panoramic window. A few guests lingered, their attention drawn to something outside—storm watching. The reason they came to Oceanview Lodge.

Jonna didn’t see Ian. She breathed a sigh of relief and planted a smile for the benefit of the guests, but as she neared the window to face the storm, she realized what had garnered their attention. It wasn’t the storm after all, but the two men standing on the landing of the steps to the right down below them.

Wearing a weatherproof jacket, Ian stood with Sheriff Garrison near the edge of the awning, barely safe from the wind and rain. So the sheriff himself had come to investigate. Ian gestured with his hands, apparently sharing the events of the last hour without her. Why were they outside, though? Had Ian been showing the sheriff the rocks where it all happened?

She wanted to share her side of the story but didn’t want to go back out into the storm.

“Jonna, what’s going on?” DiAnn Morrison, one of her employees and a good friend, approached. “Why’s the sheriff here?”

Jonna urged DiAnn down the hall toward the kitchen. Only employees used it so she didn’t have to worry about a guest overhearing her words. She didn’t want to alarm anyone, not until she’d spoken to the sheriff, but DiAnn should know. “A man tried to shoot me on the beach.”

DiAnn took a step back, sheer terror in her eyes. “What did you say?”

Jonna didn’t repeat herself but simply waited, allowing DiAnn to absorb the news.

“I can’t believe it. That’s just horrible.”

“Please keep all of this to yourself,” Jonna urged. “At least let me speak to the sheriff first and see how he wants to handle it.”

“You don’t think it’s that...that serial killer, do you?”

“I don’t know. Be on the lookout for anything or anyone suspicious.”

DiAnn eased into a chair. Jonna would leave her to compose herself. Once she’d calmed down, she’d be able to calmly divert any questions the guests might have. DiAnn would know to maintain the bright and cheery demeanor that kept the guests coming back every year. She left DiAnn and grabbed a jacket on the hook by the kitchen door, then braved the storm again. Wind and rain lambasted her as she made her way around and found the two men behind a protective barrier that blunted the storm’s effects.

“And why were you there on the beach?”

At the question aimed toward Ian, Jonna hesitated revealing herself. She wanted to hear the answer to that, unfettered by her presence. She hadn’t even considered the question of why Ian had been on the beach, which meant her skills were getting rusty.

* * *

Ian had caught a glimpse of Jonna before she ducked out of sight. He shivered. “Could we talk about this someplace warm?”

“I think any evidence left behind is long gone, so there’s no reason to dig around out here. Let’s get inside,” Sheriff Garrison said.

Ian gestured for them to head back toward the lodge. Jonna stepped out at that moment. “Sheriff Garrison, thanks for coming.”

“Under the circumstances, I can’t say I’m glad to be here. Are you all right?”

“I’ve been better,” she said. “Let’s go inside and grab something warm to drink while we chat in the kitchen. If you don’t mind, I don’t want to worry my guests, so I haven’t yet shared with them what happened.”

Ian and Sheriff Garrison followed Jonna into the lodge and then the kitchen. Ian gladly shrugged out of the jacket, hung it on a peg at the door and rubbed his hands together. He would’ve much preferred to have this conversation near the big roaring fire, but other guests would hear their discussion.

“I’ll make you some coffee or hot chocolate,” Jonna said. “Which would you prefer?” She ushered Ian to a chair at the table, and the sheriff joined them.

Sheriff Garrison shrugged out of his jacket too. “Coffee’s good.”

Jonna sent Ian an acknowledging glance—she already knew his preference.

“You were just about to tell me why you were on the beach when there are warning signs about this storm.”

Ian stiffened. “I usually jog every day. Just ask Jonna. But I had decided to avoid it this morning because of the storm—” he eyed Jonna “—and because of the signs. Then I heard one of the guests mention they’d seen Jonna going for a run and they were worried about her since the storm was moving in faster than expected. The waves had grown bigger.”

The sheriff scrutinized him as if trying to figure out if Ian had some special interest in Jonna. Ian kept it cool.

“So you took it on yourself to check on her.”

He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I? Seemed like the right thing to do.” There. Try to make something out of that. “I’d gone to the landing to see if she was close by and that’s when I spotted someone suspicious over behind the rocks.”

“Suspicious, how? And why would you decide to confront a man who looked suspicious rather than calling 9-1-1?”

Really? There’d been no time! “He pulled a gun. And he was aiming it at Jonna. What would you have done?”

“You told me that part. And you’re right, I would have taken action.” The sheriff still scrutinized Ian. He would probably run a background check on him. Ian hadn’t broken any laws, so he wouldn’t worry about it. But he wasn’t sure he wanted the man to know the kind of security he’d worked. At least not yet.

“Ian was a hero today, Sheriff. He saved my life. Now, don’t you want to hear my side of the story?” Jonna turned and handed the sheriff and Ian cups of coffee, then crossed her arms, watching Ian, studying. She didn’t miss a thing, this one. But she’d tried to divert the sheriff’s undue attention from Ian.

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“I saw a guy up on the cliff, keeping pace with me. It was only unusual because of the storm. Only a crazy person would jog in this. So I noticed him.”

Ian shared a look with the sheriff, then stared at Jonna.

Jonna pursed her lips. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“So you’re a committed runner. Continue with your story,” Sheriff Garrison said.

“I suspected he was up to no good. When the guy disappeared I figured I was just being paranoid. Still, I couldn’t wait to get out of the storm. The waves were coming in hard and fast and I could get trapped on the beach. Then the man stepped out from behind the rocks and pointed a gun at me. That’s when Ian tackled him. He got a bloody nose for his heroic efforts,” she added.

The sheriff’s sharp gaze shot up from his pad and paper. “The guy you believed was pacing you on the ledge, are you sure it was the same man who tried to shoot you?”

“I’m pretty sure. He had on the same hoodie. No one else was out there.” Her gaze flicked to Ian.

The sheriff scratched his chin, then eyed them both. “There can’t be too many joggers out here in this kind of weather in the winter, so it’s possible someone else noticed him too, but did either of you get a good look?”

“With the wind, rain and sea spray, it was a blur for me,” Ian said. “His hood covered his face, but I’d say five-eleven, muscular build. Pasty white skin and dark hair.”

“That’s a pretty good description for it being a blur,” the sheriff said.

Ian hoped he and the man weren’t going to have a problem. He’d talk to Uncle Gil about it first, but maybe he should pull the sheriff aside and tell him the real reason he was here. It would mean sharing about Jonna’s past—that is, if she didn’t fess up herself. Maybe the sheriff already knew.

“What about you, Jonna? Can you add anything or do you disagree?”

“When he pointed the gun at me,” Jonna said, “I looked at him long and hard. But it was from a distance and the storm had picked up, so I couldn’t see him very clearly. I think Ian’s description is right.”

“We’ll get you two down to the station to look at some photos. Maybe we can get a forensic artist in too.”

“Do you think it could be the Shoreline Killer?” she asked.

Creases grew around the sheriff’s eyes and mouth. “I think it’s too soon to say. But I have to ask you, Jonna—can you think of any reason someone would want to kill you?”

Ian resisted the urge to hold his breath. Now, there was a loaded question. Would Jonna tell the sheriff about her past career in Miami? It was clear he didn’t already know or he would be bringing that up now. Ian looked forward to hearing her answer.

The sheriff glanced his way. “Mind if I speak with Jonna alone, Mr. Brady?”

“Of course not.” Ian scooted from the chair. “I’ll just be waiting by the fire if you need me for anything else.”

Ian left the room. At first, he hung near the door hoping to hear what Jonna would say, but DiAnn came around the corner. Ian nodded, smiled and headed to the main room to watch the storm through the window and stand by the fire. Instantly, the guests gathered around him to question him about what was going on.

Uncertain how much either the sheriff or Jonna wanted him to say, Ian begged off and headed to his room. He needed to call Uncle Gil anyway. Uncle Gil needed to know about what happened today. Maybe he would release Ian to be forthcoming, though the more he found out about the woman, the more he understood his uncle’s reasons for sending someone to watch over her—from a distance.

It would help if his uncle had more details to share about that old case in Miami, but Jonna hadn’t known who had shot and left her for dead. Amnesia. Too bad. For all they knew the same guy had shown up on the beach today.

Ian hated not knowing whom he was up against in protecting a woman who didn’t want protection. Her survival could depend on it. But this wasn’t the first time he was expected to protect someone against an unknown enemy. Except he’d failed before.

God, please don’t let me fail this time.

THREE

Utter darkness pressed down on Jonna as she lay in bed, tossing and turning. Doing everything except sleeping. The storm should pass in a few hours only to be followed by another. In the meantime, the howling wind brought to mind images of ghouls. She didn’t believe in those, of course, but goosebumps still rose on her flesh. That probably had more to do with the fact that every time she closed her eyes she saw the man pointing a weapon at her today. Then her thoughts immediately shifted to her past. She’d worked hard to forget the scattered, broken memories she had about what happened in Miami, but the events of today brought those distorted, gruesome images rushing back.

She felt the excruciating pain of a bullet in her abdomen as she lay in the shallow part of a marsh where someone had dumped her, slowly bleeding out. She moved in and out of consciousness—the sun bore down on her, baking her alive. Flies swarmed as though she were already dead. How much longer before an alligator or some other predator found her?

All of the pain was unforgettable, but the face of her shooter had disappeared into a dark corner of her mind.

Enough!

She pushed the sheets off and got dressed, then found her flashlight in case the power went off, which was more than likely in this stream of storms.

The guests had been adequately warned and were prepared for a power outage, and they’d also been informed about Jonna’s attack. The sheriff had advised them to be cautious and aware of their surroundings. Most of them already were, considering the Shoreline Killer. In addition, her guests were outraged on Jonna’s behalf.

It was well past midnight when she made her way to the expansive living area and found Ian by the fireplace, stoking the embers. She wasn’t surprised to see him. He’d brought them back to life, the orange glow of the flames bouncing off his sturdy form. He stared at the fire, his expression troubled.

Jonna momentarily averted her gaze to the windows, but only darkness stared back through the panoramic glass as an eerie wail threatened to keep her guests shivering and awake in their rooms. She wasn’t worried about complaints from the guests come morning. It was all part of the package—the reason they kept coming back every year. For the thrill of it.

As she watched Ian and the blazing hearth, Jonna let herself listen to the crashing waves pounding the shore—they were like past mistakes beating her soul.

Earlier in the day, the sheriff had taken both her and Ian into the substation at Windsurf to look at mug shots online, an exercise that had sent a throbbing pulse of tension, anxiety and pain straight through her brain.

And it hadn’t let up all day, even when they’d come back, and she’d busied herself with her chores at the lodge while questions about who had tried to kill her today consumed her thoughts.

There was a chance it was connected to her past, in which case she should contact Gil, but she wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. She didn’t want the nightmare to have followed her here. Why couldn’t she live in peace here in Washington?

She felt like her life was beginning to unravel.

Again.

Fortunately, she had employees—DiAnn, Lisa and Kelsey—who were amazing with the guests and seemed to love the lodge as much as Jonna. No matter what she had to deal with in her personal life, she knew she could count on them to keep the lodge running smoothly. They were a real Godsend. She didn’t know what she would do without them, especially now.

The sheriff believed that women’s lives could be at greater risk if Jonna’s attacker was the serial killer who’d already taken five women along the coast. Her situation would certainly fit the serial killer’s pattern—the victims had all been out jogging the beach when they were abducted and killed. From now on, Jonna would carry Max with her everywhere. Living in Windsurf, she’d slowly allowed herself to pretend everyone could be trusted and that she was completely safe. She’d wanted to forget her life in Miami ever existed, but it wasn’t to be. Cold reality had slapped her in the face when the man pointed a weapon at her and fired, searing the image on her mind to go with the trauma from Miami.

Twin images now impressed in her mind—the most recent one sharp, while the old one was frustratingly fractured.

And into that clear picture stepped Ian—all muscle, strength and sharp, able-bodied moves—to save the day. Save her life.

That image also lingered in her thoughts all day.

She hung back watching him now as he finished stoking the flames in the massive fireplace, his jaw working as if he were as disturbed as Jonna. Finally, he eased his chin up and lifted his gaze to meet hers.

He’d known she was there?

Of course, he would. After what she’d seen today, she knew the man was trained to be aware of his surroundings. She had to find out about that training.

The other guests were asleep, or trying to sleep in this storm. She approached Ian, a thousand questions spinning through her mind. Questions she’d had to keep to herself all day in the presence of the sheriff or deputies or guests.

But now they were alone. Truly alone.

“Something bothering you?” he asked like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Yes! Yes, there’s something bothering me. She steadied her breathing as she drew near, but not too near. Not too close to this man. “I have a few questions for you.”

He jerked his head back slightly. Oh, yes. Now she had his attention.

“Ask away. I’ll answer if I can.”

She would have preferred if he’d said he had nothing to hide.

He replaced the poker. Stuck his hands in his pocket and leaned against the wall near the fireplace, looking ever so calm, cool and collected. And utterly handsome. Unbidden, warmth flooded her belly, and that infuriated her. She couldn’t be attracted to him.

Add to that, had she really stooped to questioning a guest? “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me, but I’m just a little freaked out.”

He gently took her shoulders and guided her over to the big overstuffed sofa. “Sit here. Relax.”

He joined her on the immense plush furniture.

“You have skills,” she said. “I noticed that today. You had told me you were a security consultant. I had thought IT—information technology.”

He huffed out a laugh to go with his grin. “I used to be with the United States Diplomatic Security Service.”

Slowly she nodded, understanding so much more now. “Used to be?”

His brow furrowed and shadows darkened his blue irises. “I protected a diplomat on my last assignment. A foreign dignitary visiting the US.” He paused as if considering his next words. “Now I’m a private security consultant.”

Jonna sensed that a lot hung between those last two sentences. Ian held back.

“A private security consultant. What is that exactly? You mean a bodyguard or a private investigator?”

His features twisted up as he contemplated his reply. “Maybe a little of both, but it’s less about muscles and guns. More about identifying potential danger and stopping it before it can happen.”

“I see. That makes sense. I’m sure that’s probably what you did with the DSS. Keeping diplomats secure is more about brains over brawn. Planning and preventing.”

“Right. Preventing rather than countering an attack. But we’re thoroughly trained to do both if necessary.”

She didn’t doubt that one bit after what she’d seen today. Regret poured from his eyes. What had happened?

He averted his gaze, staring into the flames. “I’m here for obvious reasons—to watch the storms—and maybe a few not-so-obvious,” he added.

When his gaze lifted to meet hers, she knew his words held a hidden meaning. What was it? His intense regard drew heat up her spine. Was she reading more into his words than she should? “I...uh...” Could she be more of an idiot? He hadn’t been talking about her, as in he was here for her or for them. There was no them. What was it about Ian that had her thinking along those lines?

Oh, I’m in trouble. I’m in big, big trouble.

She buried her attraction. What was wrong with her? She didn’t know the man. Didn’t know whom she could trust. She didn’t know if today she’d faced off with Washington’s serial killer or...or...if her past had caught up with her.

Please, God, let it not be so!

* * *

He’d been perfectly fine with her making her own assumptions about what a security consultant would do. Except now Ian had said more than he’d wanted. Talking about his previous job this much brought on anguish.

Admiration flickered in her gaze before she shuttered it away. “Well, your previous job training certainly explains why you were able to take that guy down today. At least until the ocean interfered. So what happened? Why did you leave your job to become a private security consultant?”

Ian pushed up from the sofa to stoke the fire again, though it needed none of his attention. He tried to shut out the unsettling noise of the wind, with its eerie wail. Would this storm ever end? He might be concerned about the targets he and Jonna presented by sitting in front of the big panoramic windows, except he knew no one could survive on the beach at the moment.

He sensed her eyes on his back, just as he had sensed her watching him earlier. Despite her appreciation of what he’d done for her, she was wary of him, especially now. A little truth wouldn’t hurt. She deserved that after all she’d been through. Although he hadn’t wanted to have to share that particular truth.

“Ian,” she said softly. “You don’t have to tell me. I shouldn’t have pried.”

“No, it’s okay.” Was it? “It’s not something I like to talk about. Something bad happened on my watch.” Somebody died.

“And they fired you?”

Needles pricked over his skin. “No. They wanted to transfer me. I could have moved to a different department.” Where he wouldn’t be directly responsible for protecting someone.

Why was he telling Jonna this? It would only wipe clean the admiration he’d seen in her eyes moments ago. He shouldn’t care about that. He couldn’t help himself. He glanced over at her on the sofa, still watching him, then the fire suddenly intrigued her.

“But you didn’t want to transfer?”

“No.”

“You don’t have to explain why. I can see in your eyes that you hold yourself responsible for what happened. I understand about that—” her downturned expression spoke volumes “—but you shouldn’t blame yourself.”

“How can you understand?”

“I guess that understand was the wrong word. Maybe I can’t truly understand what you’ve experienced, and—” She cut herself off abruptly. “Listen to me. I sound like a therapist.”

If he could get her talking more about her background, he could potentially ease into the topic of the Miami criminals who might be after her. He wanted her to bring up the topic herself. If he broached it, he’d have to admit the real reason he was here, and he couldn’t see that going well. From what Uncle Gil had said, and also from what he knew about Jonna, she would be furious about the fact Uncle Gil had hired Ian for protection detail. Maybe even shocked her old boss would hire Ian, of all people. Ian had been surprised himself.

Regardless, he couldn’t risk her barring him from the Oceanview Lodge. Yes, in the worst case, he could watch over her from a distance. Still, that would be more difficult.

Ian put the poker where it belonged, but he remained near the fire. Jonna intrigued him in ways she shouldn’t. He didn’t want to be intrigued. However, he did want to come completely clean about why he was here. If Uncle Gil would just call him back, maybe the man would have some advice on how Ian could tell Jonna the truth without setting off her temper. But Uncle Gil hadn’t responded to his voicemail. He should have heard back by now. That disturbed him.

She rose and joined him by the fire. So much for keeping his distance. She didn’t ask more questions, seeming content enough with his answers. She had her own secrets, and he had his. But given today’s events, it wasn’t a good idea to keep his reasons for being here to himself much longer.

Come on, Uncle Gil. Call me back. Email me. Text me. Something...

The only person who’d tried to reach him today was Patrick, a good friend from his previous job, still working for the DSS. Patrick called every week or so, just to check up on Ian. He’d keep trying until he heard from Ian. But he didn’t have time to call him back just yet. He was in the thick of this now.

The thing was, he couldn’t be sure that the man who had shown up had anything to do with the women who were abducted, or if he had to do with the danger to Jonna from Miami. He would stick even closer and be more vigilant if she’d let him.

Tendrils of dread slithered over him as the anguish from his past assignment as a DSS agent filled his thoughts. His biggest failure had cost someone’s life. Turned his upside down.

He couldn’t fail again.

Jonna’s life could depend on him.

Uncle Gil, what have you gotten me into?

FOUR

Back in her room, Jonna grabbed Chop Suey to snuggle beneath her comforter. The beast of a cat squirmed out of the covers and found a spot on the bed—his choice. When she’d first gotten him as a kitten, he’d jumped into her plate of Chop Suey, hence the name.

“It always has to be your idea, doesn’t it?” She tucked the comforter under her chin. “Suit yourself.”

For the first time she could remember, Jonna wished for a storm to end. The unceasing cacophony of crashing waves only stirred up the images from today like a reel-by-reel play. Vivid cinematography played across her mind.

A man pointed a gun at her, intending to kill her.

Add to that, that scenario had happened twice in her life. She wanted to know who that man was on the beach today.

She tossed and turned for what felt like hours. She even kept the cat awake. Eventually, Chop Suey jumped off the bed and found somewhere else to sleep. When Jonna woke up, it surprised her that she’d finally fallen asleep, but something had woken her.

What was it?

She remained still and listened.

It was quieter outside now.

The wailing gusts had moved on to torment another innkeeper up the coast. Another storm would replace it within the next few hours. Still, even now, sporadic gusts buffeted the cabin. The door creaked.

Probably nothing. Chop Suey didn’t stir.

If she had known she would have to worry about the past, she might have gotten a dog. As it was, if she tried that now then Chop Suey would probably chase away any canine Jonna brought home.

Jonna grabbed her trusty Sig. She crept to the door and peeked through the peephole. She had a front entrance that didn’t connect to the lodge to give her more privacy in case she ever went on, say, a date. Right. Through the hole, she saw nothing but darkness. She switched on the porch light. No one suspicious lurked near the door. She flipped the light back off.

Another creak.

This had to be the logs of the cabin shifting, but Jonna would take no chances after today.

Scritch, scritch, scritch.

The window this time. She rolled her shoulders and approached the window that faced the ocean. Now she wished she had closed the mini blinds and curtains.

Standing against the wall, she peered out and gasped, nearly screaming. She stepped back and pressed herself against the wall. She’d seen a shadow, the silhouette of a man. Hadn’t she? Heart palpitating, she lifted her weapon and peered out again.

A tree branch morphed into the shape she thought she saw, then scratched the window. She was becoming entirely too paranoid. She couldn’t function if she couldn’t get any sleep.

In the meantime, she shut the mini blinds and tugged the curtains closed. Set the Sig aside and rubbed her arms. Pulling on a hoodie, she sat at her desk. It was much too late to call her old boss Gil, and besides, she dreaded that call with everything in her. But she had to find out if there had been more chatter.

What specifically had the chatter been when her name had come up? So she opened up her laptop, found his old email address—the one she hadn’t used in three years—and typed up her question.

But she didn’t send it.

This couldn’t be about Florida. The guy thought he’d killed her—just a cop snooping around in a warehouse. She hadn’t been targeted specifically.

Or had she?

She didn’t know anything that would make her, personally, a target. There was no reason for anyone to think about her, much less say her name.

Jonna folded her arms on the desk and pressed her head into them. She was lying to herself. She tried to forget what she knew, which was very little. She suspected that not everyone involved in the human-trafficking ring had been taken down.

The mayor had wanted the case closed quickly. So the powers that be had conducted the raids and arrested the people involved. But not everyone had been caught in the net. Jonna had suspected someone higher up had been pulling the strings and had managed to avoid capture.

She was looking into that when someone had shot her and left her for dead.

Why would someone want to target her again? If they did, that would only bring attention to the earlier attempt to murder her and the motive behind it. No, this simply couldn’t be about Miami. She willed it to be so. Another lie. When had her will had anything to do with it? Jonna sent the email to Gil. She could trust him to be honest with her. He’d been good to her. Let her slip into obscurity quietly, the way she wanted.

If she learned one thing from today—it was that she was out of practice. At least she’d been jogging every day, but she was getting rusty to let that man pacing her get the upper hand.

She probably needed to hit the shooting range again, a place she’d avoided for much too long. She’d been foolish to think she could just walk away, start a new life. But it had been so very tempting, and Jonna hadn’t wanted to work in law enforcement anymore. She wanted to live a peaceful life running a lodge on the Washington coast, and thanks to her aunt Debby’s help, she’d been able to do just that.

Jonna had grown up in Coldwater Bay. Her aunt had raised her and her three siblings after their parents had been killed in a tragic accident. She’d been restless after her parents had passed away. They had been good people who were making a difference in the world when they’d died.

Jonna couldn’t make sense of their deaths or her own life—what she should do with it. Aunt Debby had been the one to encourage Jonna when she said she needed a complete change of scenery. So Jonna went off to school in Miami. Maybe she’d ended up on another coast, but it was a coast at the opposite end of the country with completely different scenery and culture.

There she’d attended the police academy, following in her mother’s footsteps in law enforcement. She ended up working for ICE. It was brutal work—the horrors of humanity came to light every day—but she was proud that she made a difference in the lives of others.

At least that’s what she’d told herself. Hadn’t her parents been about making a difference? They would have wanted no less for her.

But in the end, she’d run from it all. Now she was glad to be back and closer to her siblings. Sadie, a marine biologist, and Cora, an underwater archaeologist, had taken the road of science after their father’s example, and Quinn went into law enforcement like Jonna and their mother. He was a DEA agent. Unfortunately, she hadn’t seen Quinn in years. He was on a deep undercover assignment—he’d dropped off the face of the earth. She hoped he was okay. She knew from personal experience just how dark the criminal world could be.

Drowsiness finally claimed her with only maybe a half an hour before twilight. But Jonna would grab what sleep she could. She slipped back into bed and Chop Suey joined her this time, snuggling up against her back. I feel loved.

She smiled, but with the thought of love came the sudden sense of loss, of what she was missing. Sadness pricked her heart. Of course Ian’s pensive blue gaze, strong jaw and diplomatic security service skills had to fill her thoughts.

Now she would never get that sleep.

* * *

Ian had learned long ago through rigorous training how to survive on little sleep. Good thing. After the intense conversation with Jonna, his mind wouldn’t shut off. And when the storm died down—just a reprieve before the next storm bore down on them—he knew what he could do to put his time to the best use.

He’d donned dark clothing and climbed out the window. Jonna had a night clerk at the desk in case the guests needed anything, but the door remained locked after certain hours. He didn’t want to raise suspicions or alarm by leaving that way. He slipped out the window, careful to remain near the lodge so he wouldn’t stumble too near the cliff’s edge.

What a perfect place to watch the winter storms. Icy cold bit his cheeks. He couldn’t stay here long. But he might as well walk the perimeter. Ramp up his task of watching over Jonna.

Now, if only Uncle Gil would call him back. Maybe the man was in the middle of a serious investigation and hadn’t had the chance. But still, it wasn’t like him not to check in.

Clouds rushed quickly across the sky, and silver moonlight broke through, making the whitecaps look almost fluorescent.

Wow.

He could watch that forever.

But he was on a mission. Ian tugged out his weapon, prepared to use it. His footfalls couldn’t be heard over the waves or the gusts of wintry wind. If he couldn’t be heard, neither could Jonna’s attacker should he try to approach at night.

Would the man return? He’d asked the sheriff’s department if they could put a deputy on watch at the lodge, just to keep Jonna and her guests safe until the threat had been neutralized. But they were already pressed for personnel and couldn’t spare anyone.

After he’d walked the length of the lodge and around the front—the part facing away from the ocean—he spotted Jonna’s cabin. Though connected to the lodge, it stood off on its own. An easy target for someone who knew where to look.

Ian waited in the shadows of the woods and let his gaze search the area beyond the parking lot. A copse of trees stood between the lodge and the road, thick on that side of the building. Someone could get close to her that way if not through these woods on the south side. He didn’t like it. Ian gave a wide berth as he walked around her cabin, hoping, praying to God he wouldn’t find anyone.

Or if someone truly had come to go after her again, that God would help him stop them. He wondered if it would feel like redemption, to succeed in this case. But success, saving Jonna, wouldn’t bring Serena back.

His soul cracked a little. He couldn’t let the past distract him if he wanted to protect Jonna.

God, help me. Help me forgive myself.

Steeling himself against the onslaught of anxiety, Ian closed in on her cabin, then hesitated. A nuance, a sensation, prickled over his skin.

Someone else was here.

He waited in the shadows of a large evergreen, the branches and needles scratching the cabin window with each gust of an angry ocean breeze. Sea spray blew over his skin, even from this height.

And still he waited.

That sensation was unmistakable. He’d learned to listen to it and it had never failed him.

Fifteen yards out, another dark figure in the night also wearing black moved catlike toward the cabin.

Jonna’s cabin.

His breath came hot and fast, but Ian steadied it, reminding himself to stay focused and calm. He had to end this tonight. As the figure crept toward the cabin, keeping to the shadows, Ian waited for the right moment. No longer a DSS agent, he couldn’t officially arrest anyone, but any citizen could stop someone from committing a crime and hold them for the authorities.

The creeper approached and positioned himself in front of the door. He was hunched over, his back to Ian, who could only assume the man intended to pick the locks.

Jonna was in danger.

Ian acted on instinct and, remaining in stealth mode, rushed forward, then snuck up behind him. His thick, black coat and hood left no exposed area. Not that that mattered. Ian didn’t have to see skin to know where to thrust his weapon.

He lifted the Glock and jabbed the muzzle into the base of the man’s skull. The perpetrator instantly stiffened.

“Hold it right there.” Ian forced the threatening words out through gritted teeth, remembering earlier in the day when someone had tried to kill Jonna. Was this that man?

Ian’s nerve-endings prickled, aware the trespasser prepared to make a move.

“Don’t even think about it. I’ll put a bullet in your brain before you can move.” Ian stepped a few feet back, putting space between him and his target so the man couldn’t go on the offensive with a head butt or a kick. “Now, slowly back away from the door.”

Suddenly it swung open.

Jonna!

Ian couldn’t fire his weapon or he’d risk shooting Jonna. The criminal ducked into the shadows, leaving Ian standing with Jonna pointing her weapon at him. Hadn’t she seen the intruder at the door?

“Put your weapon down or I swear I’ll shoot you.” Her voice sounded every bit as threatening as his had sounded moments ago.

“Jonna. It’s me. Don’t shoot me, please. I’m lowering my weapon. In the meantime, the guy I found breaking into your cabin is getting away.” Ian slowly lowered his weapon. She could have killed him.

“Ian?”

“Yes, it’s me. Didn’t you see him? He was picking your lock, Jonna. He slipped into the shadows when you opened the door. I’m sorry but I have to go after him. Stay inside and lock your door!” Ian backed away and then sprinted after the invader.

He feared he was too late, except for the footfalls pounding the ground resounded along the parking lot and indicated the man headed across the street.

Ian gave chase.

Behind him, Jonna shouted. “Ian, come back!”

Ignoring her, he headed across the street. A bullet whizzed by him. Uh-oh. From the dark forest, the criminal had the advantage now. Ian ducked behind a car. Jonna ran toward him as if she would crouch next to him. “Ian!”

But she wouldn’t make it.

“Jonna, get down!” Ian dashed toward her and shoved her to the ground. A bullet grazed over his back, shredding his coat. He covered her body with his—an instinctive reaction. He hoped she understood. “It’s not safe. Whoever this guy is, he fired a couple of shots using a silencer. You didn’t hear them?”

“Not over the surf, no.” Her breaths still came fast—she was like a frightened bird beneath him. She could definitely handle herself, but someone had targeted her tonight. Again. That was enough to rattle anyone. Ian’s protectiveness kicked in, and this had nothing at all to do with the job his uncle had hired him to do. He felt personally compelled to keep her safe.

You can do this, Ian. You’ve got the skills. I trust you to protect someone special to me. Uncle Gil’s vote of confidence rang in his ears now. Ian realized this assignment might have had something to do with building Ian’s confidence again to begin with, but today, everything had changed.

Jonna’s life was in danger. Ian was back in the line of fire. Would he be enough to protect her?

“You can get off me now, Ian.”

“What?” He peered down into her gorgeous eyes and stunning features. Not what he needed to be thinking about.

“I’m safe now. You can stop covering me.”

He shook off the daze. “Right. But let’s stay down in case he hasn’t gone.”

“I don’t want him to get away.” She tried to free herself from Ian’s protective cover. “Let’s go after him.”

Ian refused to release her. Not yet. “I’m not getting up unless you promise me you’re not going to follow him. It’s dark and dangerous. It’s too risky. Our only option now is to call the sheriff again and tell him the guy returned for you.” Looked like she was a deliberate target after all, and not necessarily a random victim on the beach earlier. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

“What? You want me to have the sheriff come out here and wake my guests? They’re not in trouble. I am. Besides, the sheriff won’t be looking for him tonight either.”

“Promise me.”

Jonna jabbed him in the solar plexus and pushed him off. Ian groaned. He grabbed her arm. “You’re not going to chase him.”

She stiffly nodded her agreement and he slowly removed himself from protecting her. “You shouldn’t stay in your cabin tonight. It’s too exposed. Move into one of your guest rooms.”

“I’m booked.”

“You can take my room. I’ll stay in the cabin.”

She shook her head. “I won’t put you at risk.”

“We’ll figure it out tomorrow. Just for tonight, I’ll sleep on the couch in my suite.”

Jonna hung her head. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“We can talk about it inside,” Ian said. “Let’s get you out of harm’s way.”

“I’m sure the guy is long gone by now.” She crouched behind a vehicle as if uncertain of her words.

“We can’t be sure.” He peered into the woods.

“We can be sure of one thing,” she said. “He wants to kill me.”

Unfortunately, he agreed. He wanted to go search for the man and end this, but Jonna would insist on coming too. He wouldn’t be in a good position to protect her if that were the case. “How about it, then? I’ll watch your back tonight and sleep on the sofa.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“How about yes?” Still wary of the dark woods across the street, Ian climbed to his feet, weapon at the ready. “Besides, it’s almost morning.”

After the day they’d had, Ian suspected that daylight wouldn’t chase the bad guys away, and Jonna would remain in danger.

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