Unable to coax himself back to sleep, he got up and started his morning workout. His body may have benefited from the core work, but the exertion did nothing to clear his head.
He felt the extra weight of Cassidy's and Lena's safety.
He ran two miles on the treadmill while his mind sifted through the situation. Neither Cassidy nor Lena deserved to be in this position. Cassidy may have misjudged Emil, but Nash doubted she was guilty of anything malicious. And Lena . . . Lena was a paradox he couldn't sort out. The spark in her tone, in her eyes, in everything about her . . . revealed so many contradictions. Innocence and cunning. Courage and fear. Hope and distrust.
And . . . the confusing enigma, Lena Ashworth, somehow ignited a protectiveness in him he hadn't felt for a woman in a very long time.
Unsettling.
More than that.
When she took risks . . . and argued with him . . . she poured acid on an already-raw wound without knowing it.
Punishing memories scoured his insides.
He upped the speed on the treadmill. Pushed himself harder.
He wouldn't make the same mistakes again.
Just because he felt drawn to Lena didn't mean he needed to act on that sensation. And he wouldn't—for both their sakes. He'd complete his assignment and keep her safe. Despite her objections.
His mission hadn't changed, just been reordered. The jewels and Emil's side of the story were what he was hired to find. But now, locating Cassidy was imperative because trying to take down Emil with Cassidy and Lena in the mix was dangerous. Their presence complicated his mission.
He slowed the treadmill, gulped from his water bottle, and watched the sun's glow spill across the ocean. It would be fine. He'd locate Cassidy first and insist she and Lena take the first available flight out of there, then concentrate on the jewels. And there was always a chance Cassidy and the jewels were in the same place. That would be ideal.
His stomach growled. He was eager to walk to the main house and ask Delphine a few questions, but it was way too early. Might as well scramble some eggs. Protein was always a good idea.
While he enjoyed his breakfast and some fresh-brewed coffee, he studied the layout of Emil's yacht. The plans he tracked down matched the manufacturer, model, and year of Emil's boat, so unless Emil made custom changes—which wasn't out of the realm of possibility—the layout should be pretty accurate.
The floating vacation home was massive, but not impenetrable. His first move would be to plant some listening devices aboard. Because he needed a better idea of how many people he was dealing with and what their roles were—especially how much security.
He checked his watch. Delphine should be in her office by now.
Satisfied with his plan, he pocketed three bugs, locked his apartment, and headed for the main house. He wantedto talk to Delphine and double-check on Lena's cooperation—or lack thereof. Her determination to find her cousin stirred something in him last night. He admired her tenacity. A lot. But it could put her in danger. And he couldn't allow that.
Lena's unique mix of resolve and innocence was dangerous.
Because it was attractive.
It provided another pressing reason to find Cassidy as soon as possible and getbothcousins off the island.
Nash entered the house through the kitchen door and found Delphine in her office.
"Good morning," he said.
"Oh, hello. Can I help you?"
"I wanted to let you know I'm taking the car to be serviced today in Morghana City, so I'll be taking the ferry over to the main island. Do you need anything while I'm over there?"
"Oh, thank you for asking." She shuffled some papers on her desk and placed them in a drawer. "I think we'reset as far as supplies. I have a few groceries scheduled to be delivered this afternoon, but I think everything else is in order. You might ask Miss Erickson—Lena, the dog-sitter that you met yesterday. She's not familiar with the area, and she doesn't have a car for errands, so you should ask if she needs anything."
"Will do," he said. "By the way, did you mention the fire at the pier to Mr. Van Horn, or would you like me to do that today?"
"Oh, no, I've spoken with him," she said. "It's not a problem. The kids confessed to me that they were playing with some firecrackers on the pier, and that's how the fire started. Mr. Van Horn understands. He's not angry. The kids aren't in any trouble. Mr. Van Horn's not even going to hold the family liable for the damages. He says the pier needed to be repaired anyway."
Unease coiled in his chest. "The kids confessed to you?"
"Yes. They're good kids, though. I think yesterday scared them. I doubt we'll have any more trouble with them."
