Dutch had learned to cook right after he was commissioned in the Air Force; for someone to love to eat as much as he did, he had to. In those days, his second lieutenant pay didn’t stretch very far. Egg-white omelets were one of his specialties, not that he made them very often for himself, but they were Malin’s favorite. He added dry wheat toast, divvied the food up on two plates, and set both on the table that looked out over the sound.
He sat and waited, not caring if his food got cold. He had no intention of eating until she joined him, even if it took all day for her to be ready to come out of the bedroom.
Less than ten minutes later—not that he was counting minutes or anything—he heard her footfalls. He didn’t turn around in his chair even though his back was to her. He sat quietly, waiting until she was ready to come and face him.
He almost closed his eyes in relief when she brushed past him and pulled out the chair next to him instead of taking the one across the table where he’d set her plate.
“This looks good,” she murmured, pulling the plate over to her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She ate every bite before she spoke again. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
Dutch shook his head. “Don’t be.”
“I felt…vulnerable. Too…exposed.”
“I wanted you to be.”
For the first time since she sat down, she looked at him. “Why would you do that to me?”
“The truth?” he asked without waiting for her to answer. “Because I wanted to see if you trusted me.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Maybe, but it got us there a hell of a lot quicker than if I’d come right out and asked you.”
“
I didn’t like it.”
“I know.” Dutch leaned forward and rested his hand on her arm. “There are things I should’ve told you before we left Bagram.”
Her eyes opened wide, and she took a deep breath.
“First, don’t get any ideas that I know the real objective of your mission. I don’t. I only know—knew at the time—that whatever it was, was far more dangerous than you might be willing to admit even to yourself. I haven’t even read the brief, Malin.”
She nodded, so he kept talking.
“The idea of hiding you, being alone with you, even breaking you down so you’d talk to me, had a lot less to do with your mission than me wanting to be with you again.”
“Dutch, I’m—”
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, Malin, but I need to say this. Without giving it a second thought, I manipulated you. Sure, you knew what I was doing, but that didn’t stop me from thinking that I could make you do something you didn’t want to do.”
“Tell you about my mission?”
“That’s right, and before you get the idea that Doc or anyone else sent me to Islamabad or convinced me to take you off the grid, they didn’t. This is all me, baby.”
“I think I knew that, or I did after Onyx told me.”
Dutch shook his head and grinned. “He’s a good guy.”
“He is.”
“Anyway,” he scrubbed his face with his hand. “This is hard.”
Her hands were on her lap, but not folded or crossed.