Elizabeth Goddard - Stormy Haven

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.