A Stranger Is Watching

by Linda Randall Wisdom

  Riley knew Jenna wanted her future to include children. He also made no bones that children weren’t a part of his future.

  That was why she had taken their relationship a day at a time. She’d never pushed for more, because she was happy just to be with him. She always felt if they were destined to be together for always, it would happen.

  Then she realized destiny wasn’t on their side—she went one way; Riley went another.

  In time the wounds caused by parting with Riley healed. She took her time carving out a niche where she could be comfortable. She had no desire to find love again. Willingly she’d given her heart to Riley and never wanted it back. After a time she was past caring. She had nothing left within her to give to another man.

  After three years’ separation, here they were together again. Except this time, their close quarters were not of their choosing. There wasn’t a strong desire to be alone. They hadn’t stolen away to a secluded resort because they’d wanted to escape the outside world for a while.

  They’d fled because her life was in danger.

  He hadn’t come with her as her lover but as her protector. She hadn’t missed the handgun tucked securely in his waistband so it would rest against his spine. She had no idea how he was able to bring it into the country. To be honest, she didn’t want to know. She knew he carried it because of her. Before, he’d always kept his weapon in a locked box when he was home with her. She knew he wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

  She knew she should be even more scared than she was before. The man had beaten her badly, and she feared he would have killed her if it hadn’t been for her neighbor’s intervention. She knew as long as she was with Riley, she would be kept safe.

  Jenna set the tray to one side and climbed out of bed.

  “I’m taking a shower,” she announced, picking up her coffee cup and carrying it with her into the bathroom. Before she closed the door, she glanced back at Riley. “What next, Mr. Cooper? Shuffleboard or golf?”

  “Honeymooners have a habit of staying in. Wouldn’t that be more believable?”

  She ignored his wicked grin that still did strange things to her insides. “Not all honeymooners want to be alone twenty-four hours a day.”

  “Okay. How about a few sets of tennis?”

  She raised her eyes heavenward. She was an admitted klutz where tennis was concerned. And he knew it. “I don’t think so.” She closed the door.

  Riley waited until the door was securely closed before he started to reach for the last pastry.

  “If you value your life you will not touch that last raspberry Danish!” The shouted command froze his stance.

  “Damn, she’s good,” he muttered, getting off the bed and away from temptation.

  Jenna swore under her breath as she struggled with the cast while using the hair dryer with her other hand. Sassy had promised her her hair would need little work other than a few swipes with the hair dryer and a brush. Except Jenna couldn’t use both hands at the present time.

  Once finished, she peeked out to see if Riley was still in the bedroom. Since it was empty she quickly ran out, gathered up underwear and clothing and ran back into the bathroom to get dressed.

  She’d chosen a pair of yellow cotton shorts and a matching T-shirt with a modernistic fish design embroidered on the front since it seemed to suit the sunny day. Fed up with her hair, she’d finally pulled it up and back with a butterfly clip so only wisps gathered around her cheeks.

  Jenna looked in the main room but didn’t see Riley. She was ready to call out when she heard a familiar voice.

  “Out here.”

  She turned around and went out through the open French doors. She put her hand over her eyes, shading them from the strong sun.

  Riley sat in a wrought-iron chair he’d pulled up to the stone wall, his legs stretched out before him, feet propped on the wall. Sunglasses covered his eyes, and one of his hands held a glass. The contents looked like orange juice. He cocked an eyebrow at her as she sat on the wall facing him.

  “Interesting color for you.”

  She looked down. “True, it wasn’t something I would have worn before. But I’m learning there are a lot of things I didn’t do before.”

  She could have sworn his gaze lingered on her cast.

  “How does your hand feel?”

  She looked down at her hand. She didn’t even try to wiggle fingers that were still badly discolored and swollen.

  “I don’t have to take the heavy-duty painkillers anymore, so I guess that’s a plus.” She turned her head and looked out.

  Below she could see the hint of a patio and pool identical to theirs. Farther out she could see the white sandy beach and a bay of shimmering blue water. Sand chairs dotted the beach, most of them filled with bronzed bodies. She could see some people bodysurfing in the waves.

  She thought of so many mornings she had gone for a run on the beach to clear the cobwebs from her mind. Other mornings she and Riley ran together. Sometimes they would eat breakfast at a beachwalk cafe or return to her loft apartment to shower together and have breakfast before she escaped to her easel on mornings she didn’t have to work and Riley left for work.

  At that time, she had no idea what his work involved. She knew he was a U.S. Marshal and that there were times his work was dangerous. But he never brought his work home, and she knew enough not to ask about it. It hadn’t mattered. She learned more than she wanted to when she entered the Relocation Program.

  Why hadn’t Riley stayed with the Marshal’s Service?

  She knew back then she couldn’t ask about him, so she contented herself with the knowledge he was still doing the work he loved.

  She turned around and leaned back against the wall.

  “Why did you quit the Marshal Service?”

  Riley stared forward, still sipping his juice.

  “I decided I needed a quieter way of life.” He turned, his eyes boring deep into hers. “Of course, you didn’t bother to find that out, did you?”

  Jenna’s eyes narrowed as she stared back at him. He may have looked intimidating as hell, but she didn’t feel the least bit unsettled. Riley would just have to learn she wasn’t the cream puff he once knew.

  “I don’t believe I was given much of a choice back then. What I recall was receiving an order to pack a bag. I lived in a hotel for a while, and after the trial I was told to just forget my old way of life.”

  The smile on his lips wasn’t reassuring. “Sweetheart, you had the choice to say no,” he drawled with more than a hint of sarcasm.

  “Of course. Enter the program or be killed by one of Grieco’s men. Such a lovely choice, don’t you think?”

  Her biting tone didn’t deter him one bit. This time, dark amusement lifted his lips. “Yeah. They still managed to find you, though.”

  Jenna’s uninjured hand lifted an inch, but Riley didn’t move. In the end, her fingers curled inward and her hand dropped back to her side.

  “Yes, they did. But even in the beginning, I knew I had to do what was right.” She didn’t flinch from his searing gaze. “And even if I knew then what I know now, I’d do it again.”

  Confident she’d hit a nerve, she turned and walked back into the bungalow. The French doors were closed behind her.

  Riley swore long and profusely under his breath as he set his glass down. “You idiot. You have the subtlety of a jackhammer,” he berated himself, spinning around to face the view.

  His first inclination was to march in there and just have it out with Jenna.

  There was no doubt she harbored hostility over his leaving the service after she entered the Program.

  Hell, he was the one who should be hostile! He had been putting his plan to resign into place when he learned she’d already entered the Program.

  He had been able to talk to her a couple times on the telephone, but she never gave any indication what she planned to do. Not one hint. All he knew was that she wasn’t there one day. She hadn’t even left him a no
te to say goodbye.

  Dave told him Jenna wanted it that way. She didn’t want Riley to give up his career for her. Riley was hurt and furious. He handed in his badge and took off for a lonely shore.

  He’d lived on scotch and cigarettes for the first two months. Then he’d woken up one morning with a mouth that tasted as if it had been filled with cow dung and a brain that felt as if it had been taken apart and put back together wrong.

  Furious with himself for falling into a dark abyss of self-pity, he threw out the last of the scotch and locked the cigarettes away. It took him several months to clean out his system, and he felt like hell the entire time.

  But he didn’t give in, and afterward he felt it was worth it. It took him even longer than that to banish other runs on the beach as he headed out early each morning. But he did it.

  Riley was a stubborn man. He did whatever was necessary.

  Riley stayed outside for as long as he could. He wanted to give Jenna time to cool off. Not to mention he wanted some time to tamp down his own temper.

  He muttered a few choice curses under his breath as he pulled open the French doors and stepped inside. It took him less than thirty seconds to realize the bungalow was empty.

  “Damn her,” he swore as he tore out of the building and down the stone-covered path that led to the main building. Riley’s grim features would have scared off most people.

  His search of the hotel and shops only told him where Jenna wasn’t. He learned she hadn’t asked for a taxi, therefore she had to be in the vicinity still. His gut churned out acid the longer she remained out of his reach.

  By the time he walked down to the beach, his head was pounding like an orchestra playing Beethoven’s 1812 Overture and his stomach felt as if it was eating itself inside out.

  The sun may have been warm and the day beautiful, but he could have cared less. What had his attention now was the musical sound of laughter. Jenna’s laughter.

  Then he saw her.

  Resplendent in a tangerine-colored bikini, she reclined on a lounge chair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. She had somehow twisted her hair up and held it with a clip that allowed loose strands to fall by her cheeks and against her nape. Dark-lensed sunglasses covered her eyes, and she was engrossed in a conversation with an elderly man who sat on the adjoining lounge chair.

  Riley felt his jaw lock as he was positive the man was practically devouring Jenna with his eyes. He could have easily killed the man with his bare hands. Instead, he took a deep breath and walked forward with a slow, sure pace.

  “I still cannot believe the best Yorkshire pudding can be found in Singapore,” Jenna said.

  “If you wish, I can prove it to you by personally escorting you to the restaurant.” The man spoke with a heavy Russian accent.

  “Thank you for the invitation, but I don’t think my wife would care to travel so soon after arriving here,” Riley said with forced cheerfulness. The gaze he sent Jenna was a promise to hash this out later. The gaze he offered the other man was one that informed him Jenna was his property and his alone.

  The older man smiled and nodded. “I have been having a lovely conversation with your wife. She has been kind enough to keep me company.” He held out his hand. “I am Sasha.”

  “Ryan Davidson.” He could tell by the older man’s grip he was still strong.

  “I understand you just arrived here,” Sasha commented.

  Riley nodded. “I’d heard about the resort and thought it might make a nice getaway.” He laid a possessive hand on Jenna’s shoulder as he sat down next to her on the lounge chair.

  Her bare hip, warm from the sun, rested against his thigh. He threaded his fingers through hers, bringing her trapped hand to his knee and keeping it there.

  Sasha’s dark eyes scanned Jenna’s relaxed posture, seeming to count each fading bruise on her bare skin.

  Jenna made a face. “I told Sasha about my being mugged at the airport,” she spoke the lie easily. “And how I was so afraid it was a bad omen until you caught the mugger.”

  “It is sad thing when a lovely woman is harmed, is it not?” Sasha said to Riley. His weathered features seemed to ask many questions not said aloud.

  “It is, but the mugger was caught and dealt with.” Riley’s expression also held unspoken words.

  The older man smiled briefly and nodded. “That is good to hear.” He glanced at the linked hands. “You are lucky to have your lives ahead of you. Unfortunately, I am only left with memories. But I have eight grandchildren who are determined to keep me young.”

  “You are a lucky man,” Riley said honestly. “Children keep the family name alive.”

  “Yes, they do.” Sasha carefully raised himself up and pulled a toweling robe about his portly figure. He leaned over Jenna and took her free hand, dropping a kiss on it. “It has been a pleasure to meet you, Jennifer. Thank you for giving an old man a lovely morning.” A hint of the rogue he once was twinkled in his eyes as he looked at her, then turned to Riley. “Good day.” He walked off with slow careful steps.

  Riley waited until Sasha was out of earshot before speaking. Luckily, no one else was nearby to overhear their conversation.

  “Is there a reason why you are making this more difficult than it has to be?” he asked in a low voice just in case there were eavesdroppers.

  Jenna tried to pull her hand free, but was powerless against his stronger grip.

  “I didn’t care to stay inside, and you yourself said I’d be safe here.”

  Riley could feel his jaw aching from the effort to keep from yelling at her.

  “He was an old man, Riley,” she said in a voice that urged him to be reasonable. “And we were out here in public. I doubt anything could have happened to me.”

  He took a deep breath. “That old man owns this resort. He escaped from Russia during the Cold War. Rumor has it the resort started out as a rundown hotel and he worked hard to build it up to what it is today. I’d say he’s still a force to reckon with. I don’t care if he says he’s Father Christmas. You can’t trust anyone.”

  Her eyes glistened with tears as she stared back at him.

  “Why are you doing this?” she whispered, finally able to reclaim her hand.

  “To tell you there are times when even a nice old man isn’t what he seems,” he told her in a hard voice. “I still feel you’rè safer here than anywhere else. But you also have to follow my rules. One of which is you are not to leave the bungalow without me. You do not talk to anyone and you keep to yourself.”

  Riley steeled himself against the tear rolling down her cheek. Ordinarily, he would have leaned forward and caught it with his tongue. This time he sat there, keeping to his tough-guy image.

  “You can look at it that way, but I still see a lovely old man who adores his grandchildren.” Her chin wobbled with emotion.

  “I don’t care if you see him as the pope. Just be careful what you say.”

  “Thank you for reminding me.” Sarcasm dripped from each word. “Naturally there is no way I would have forgotten.” She held up her injured arm for emphasis.

  Riley stood up, opting to forget her sarcasm. “As long as you follow my rules, you’ll stay alive.” He held out his hand.

  Jenna looked up at him for several moments before she accepted his hand. She rose up slowly and turned to pick up a semisheer scarf of tropical colors swirled throughout the fabric. She tied it nonchalantly around her hips. It hid little and accented what was there.

  “I guess it’s time for lunch.” She started up the beach.

  Riley felt his blood pressure rise alarmingly. Along with something else rising. Jenna’s bikini highlighted pale gold skin, but it was the thong bottom that caught his attention.

  “Jenna, one. Riley, zip.”

  Chapter 5

  Jenna should have felt triumphant that she’d won this round with Riley.

  Except she knew she hadn’t done it with words. She had accomplished her goal by blatantly using her f
emininity. It wasn’t a good victory in her mind. Not one she could savor.

  When she found the barely there thong bikini in her bag she knew it was the perfect thing to wear to the beach.

  Especially when she was so furious with Riley and wanted to do something that she knew would upset him. She knew he wouldn’t appreciate her going off without him and especially going off wearing the brief bikini.

  If she was honest with herself, she’d admit it wasn’t all his fault. It was just easier to blame him since he was the closest target.

  She wanted to hate him for taking control of her life. She admitted to herself that she was the one who’d kept asking for him, and she was the one who wouldn’t talk until he showed up. She should have known he would be in charge all the way, without giving her a hint as to what he was doing.

  Jenna thought she was at a point in her life when she was in control of her future. While she lived the past few years in a manner she’d planned, she had accustomed herself to a situation she couldn’t control.

  She hated the idea of being out of control. The worst was that horrific night when a man invaded her home and invaded her mind.

  Her skin prickled uncomfortably as she stood under the shower spray. A sign she’d had too much sun this morning. After she dried off, she smoothed on lotion to ease the slight sting. The lightweight cotton sundress felt cool against her skin.

  When she left the bathroom, she found Riley stretched out on the bed. The television was on showing a Western movie.

  “The hotel has an excellent satellite dish,” he said, explaining the reason for the English-speaking movie.

  “Of course, they would,” she murmured, moving over to a nearby chair. “Riley, I’m sorry I went off without leaving word this morning. Especially after all the times you’d warned me not to do just that. It’s just that I’d finally gotten used to doing things on my own when it seemed everything turned upside down again.”