Chapter 24
Broken Glass
The cottage walls closed in somewhere around hour six.
Emma sat at the small desk off the side of the living room, laptop open, staff rosters glowing on the screen. Guest services still needed two more hires. Housekeeping was staffed, but she flagged three additional candidates for follow-up references. Food and beverage was—
Emma closed the laptop with more force than necessary. She wasn’t retaining any of it.
Her eyes tracked to the window for the dozenth time in as many minutes.
One of Zach’s security team walked past on patrol, barely visible in the fading light.
Beyond him, palm fronds swayed in the evening breeze.
The ocean would soon turn colors in a spectacular island sunset that never failed to steal her breath from the moment she’d first arrived.
She’d spent the entire day like this: reviewing rosters, answering emails, as if everything was normal.
First in her office, then here in the cottage.
Pretending her world hadn’t shrunk to four walls and armed guards and a man who’d kissed her like she was air itself before shutting down so completely he might as well have been carved from ice.
They’d been avoiding each other since last night’s explosion.
Zach vanished early in the morning, leaving Nick to walk her to her office.
He'd dropped in twice during the afternoon—once for coffee, once to speak with David about electrical routing—but he hadn’t so much as glanced at her while she had pretended to be engrossed in her work.
He’d finally returned for the night a few minutes ago.
Emma pushed back from the table and stood, her muscles protesting the long hours of sitting, while outside, the sky was bleeding pink and gold.
She couldn’t do this anymore. Not tonight.
Zach was at the kitchen island, studying something on his tablet. He looked up as she approached, those iron-gray eyes alert, assessing. Looking for threats even in the simple act of her walking across a room.
“I need to get out of this house.” The words came out firmly, a declaration of intent, not a question.
His expression didn’t change. “It’s late.”
“Zach—”
“It’s almost dark. Visibility decreases. Risk increases.” He set the tablet down, his posture shifting into something she recognized now—immovable object mode. “You’re staying inside.”
The frustration that had been building all day sharpened into something with edges. “I am not having this conversation with you again. I am not a prisoner. You are not locking me in.”
“I’m not locking you in.” His voice was maddeningly calm, the same tone he probably used to discuss ammunition counts or patrol rotations.
Emma gestured at the windows, their hurricane-resistant glass, the security sensors embedded in every frame. “What do you call it then? Telling me I can’t go out? If you want rules, fine. Let’s talk rules. But I will not be kept prisoner!”
Something flickered in Zach’s eyes. Frustration. Concern, maybe?
“Let’s start with this. If there is a direct threat to me, you tell me immediately. No exceptions.”
He was silent; his jaw worked as he calculated the odds, his tactical mind running through scenarios and probabilities. The moment stretched thin between them, taut with everything they weren’t saying about last night.
“Fine. Agreed.”
Emma blinked. She’d been bracing for his refusal.
“We’ll walk.” He was already moving, checking the knife at his belt, his phone. “We stay within the secure perimeter. Twenty minutes, max. And you do not go out in isolated areas without a bodyguard until the threat is resolved.”
She almost refused on principle. Almost told him she didn’t need a babysitter. But the words died in her throat because refusing would only restart the argument, and she was so tired of fighting. Him. This situation. The invisible walls closing in from all sides.
“Fine,” she echoed, the word tasting like ash, shoulders drooping. “But I can’t live this way, Zach. I can’t live in a cage. I’m used to being outside, moving around.”
She turned away to get her sneakers, and from the corner of her eye, she thought she saw him reach out to her, but when she glanced back, he was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, face impassive.
Great. She was imagining things now.
Zach sighed, the sound almost one of defeat. “I understand, Emma. I do. But right now, your protection comes first. I will try to give you more time out with others, though.”
She’d take it. For now.
Sneakers on, she practically ran out the door. The evening air brushed her skin like a benediction.
She breathed it in—salt and flowers, and the green fragrance of tropical plants settling into night.
The tension in her shoulders eased fractionally as she walked down the cottage steps, Zach a silent sentinel behind her.
Above them, the sky was performing its nightly masterpiece, streaks of coral and amber bleeding into deepening blue.
Beautiful. God, it was beautiful.
She’d almost forgotten.
They strolled in silence toward the beach, their footfalls soft on the crushed shell path. Zach moved half a step ahead, his body angled to put himself between her and… everything, apparently. His eyes scanned, cataloged, assessed. Shadows lengthening under the palms. Birds rustling in the trees.
His hand hovered near his knife.
He was doing his job. This hypervigilance, this warrior’s discipline, was what made him so good at keeping people safe. He had kept his brothers safe, his unit safe through situations she couldn’t imagine.
She hated that part of her still felt safer because of it. Hated that even as angry, frustrated, hurt as she was by how completely he now shut her out—some deep, animal part of her brain relaxed in his presence. Trusted him.
The contradiction made her want to scream.
They reached the beach, where the last rays of sunlight painted the sand gold. Waves whispered against the shore in their eternal rhythm. Under other circumstances, it would have been romantic. The sunset, the beach, the gorgeous man beside her.
Instead, it cut like walking through broken glass.
“Did David figure out the electrical problem?” The words came out stiff, forced—an absurd offering of normalcy given the weight of everything unsaid.
“Working on it.” Zach’s response was clipped, his attention on the tree line.
Emma tried again. “When does he think it’ll be resolved?”
“Soon.”
She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at the ground, watching the sand shift beneath her feet.
The silence between them was worse than the stilted conversation, heavy with memories of the previous night.
With accusations and confessions, with memories of the way he’d touched her like she was precious before walking away like she was poison.
Before they’d both said things they shouldn’t have.
“You can’t avoid me forever,” she said.
Zach’s stride didn’t falter. “I’m not avoiding you. I’m right here.”
Emma pursed her lips and focused on small things: the cry of a distant gull, the rustle of palm fronds, the way the water gleamed like liquid copper under the setting sun.
Anything to avoid thinking about the man beside her, about the scent of mahogany and lavender she’d memorized without meaning to.
About how his shoulders carried tension like armor, and she wanted to smooth it away even as her hands itched to hit him for being so stubborn.
“You know what I mean. You can’t pretend we’re strangers any longer.” She rubbed the back of her neck.
Ice-cold eyes slanted her way, noting her motion before returning to their endless scanning. “Don’t blow things out of proportion.”
The salt air sat bitter on her tongue as her lungs constricted.
“Really? That's your answer? Since I found that note, you've insisted on protecting me yourself, moved me into your own home.
Now, after last night, you can't stand to be within ten feet of me!
You won't even hold a simple business conversation with me.
Is this how it's going to be now? Should I write off ever being able to work with you?”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. For a long moment, she thought he wouldn’t respond.
“I can’t be what you need. This is easier,” he said quietly.
His words hit like a punch to her gut. She hunched her shoulders and swallowed hard, her eyes burning with tears she refused to let fall.
“For whom?” She whispered.
He didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. She already knew.
It was easier for him to maintain distance if he didn't care, to protect her without the complication of emotions, to walk away when it was over.
Except he did care. She’d tasted it in his kiss, seen it in his eyes before the walls slammed back down. The caring was what scared him.
It scared her too. She didn’t want to repeat the mistakes of her mother, who gave up her career for a man. But she also didn’t want to make the opposite mistake: giving up a good man for a job. There had to be a middle ground. Kate and Lena had both found ways, why couldn't she?
She couldn't leave it like this.
“Zach…”
Emma’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, then froze as she read the screen.
The sunset dimmed around her. The message wasn’t from anyone on her staff roster or the resort team. It was from Kate.
“DANGER!”