Dutch, page 10
“There’s one more thing you should know.”
Dutch looked into Malin’s eyes, wondering if the one more thing would finally put him over the edge of not being able to forgive her. He almost wanted to tell her he didn’t want to know.
“I knew that Zamed was taking you to Islamabad. I also knew the location where he planned to keep you.”
“That’s how Doc and Razor found me as quickly as they did.”
Malin nodded.
“But they didn’t know the information came through you.”
“They didn’t, but if you doubt what I’m telling you is true, I can prove it.”
Dutch leaned forward, at first putting his elbows on his knees, but he didn’t stop there, he rested his head on Malin’s lap instead.
When she ran her fingers through his hair, Dutch sat up and took her hands in his.
“I don’t need you to prove anything to me.”
“Dutch…do you…can you ever…”
“If I had stayed and we had talked this out, we could have continued our pretend life here on the island a lot earlier.”
Her grip on his hands tightened as she kept her eyes focused on his.
“I’m not sure I can say I forgive you, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
“Okay…”
“Is what you did something you should be forgiven for, or did you do what you had to do while, at the same time, ensuring the least amount of collateral damage? At great risk to yourself, I might add.”
“That’s what I meant earlier. When I said that I asked myself what you would do. I knew that no matter what, you’d make sure whoever you put in danger would be rescued as soon as possible.”
“Are you also the one who gave us the intel about where Alegria was being held?”
Malin nodded and bit her bottom lip. “Why did you walk away and leave me at the shore earlier?”
“I had to process through whether what you did was out of revenge. I’m sorry, Malin, but I needed time to think.”
“What made you come back to the house now?”
“I realized something about both of us.”
She nodded, waiting for him to continue.
“There was one person who could tell me about how things went down in Islamabad. That person was Alegria. However, I knew I couldn’t contact her and ask her, because more than I needed to know what she’d tell me, I need to protect you. That’s when I knew you’d done the things you had because you had no other choice, not to put Alegria and me in danger.”
“It’s the truth, Dutch.”
He nodded. “It’s also why you won’t tell me your theory. You don’t want me to be in the same kind of danger you are.”
Malin nodded.
“Montgomery warned you away from the money trail. When we arrived back in the States, you believed the agency was going to burn you. Both of those things tell me that the CIA is involved.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“How far-reaching is it, Malin?”
“All the way to the top.”
“To the president?”
“Yes,” she whispered again.
“Is it something they’d kill you over?”
Malin didn’t answer, but Dutch knew it’s what she believed. At this point, so did he.
“Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”
“How did you know?”
“That you were into something this deep?”
“Yes.”
“I told you—intuition, instinct, my gut. Whatever you want to call it.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “The way you looked at me when Orlov had his gun to your head. I thought it was him that you were afraid of. You told me that he wouldn’t have killed you, and now I believe you. You weren’t afraid of him; you were afraid of me.”
“More that the mission was ending before I had the final pieces to ensure my safety. Not that if I had anything, it would’ve been enough.”
“What was Sergei’s role?”
“Finding out if United Russia was involved and if so, how.”
“I killed him before he could brief you.”
“That’s right.”
“What does your gut tell you?”
“He wouldn’t have shown up if they weren’t.”
“Exactly. Now we have to figure out how. What’s your theory?”
“That the money came from them in the first place.”
It was his theory too. What he didn’t know, and what Malin didn’t seem ready to tell him, was what all this meant after it was pieced together.
“What about Ghafor? What piece of information were you waiting for from him?”
“What he did to earn the money.”
Why would United Russia send money into the US only for it to go back out in payment to Ghafor? Why not just give it to him directly? Dutch’s guess was that Ghafor could provide that answer as well.
“We’ll meet Onyx at the dock in the morning. He’ll fly us to California, and by tomorrow afternoon, maybe we’ll have some answers.”
“Striker may have those answers already.”
Dutch nodded. If he were in Malin’s position, he wouldn’t be convinced he could trust Striker either, or Ranger or Diesel. They’d all been close enough to this conspiracy—and that’s what it was—to know as much or more than Malin did. That meant each of them posed a threat to her.
“Let’s do an inventory of who you feel you can trust at this point. I want you to be completely honest with me about it too, Malin. If there’s anyone you are unsure of, they need to go on a different list.”
“You.”
Dutch smiled. “Is that it?”
She smiled too. “No. Onyx.”
“What about Sofia?”
“I don’t have any reason not to.”
“What about Doc?”
She shrugged. “You seem to trust him.”
“With my life, but this isn’t my list. If you’re unsure, he goes on the third list.”
“People I trust, those I don’t, and ones I’m unsure of.”
“That’s right.”
She nodded. “Most everyone is on the unsure list. Striker, though, I’d add to the list of people I don’t trust.”
“Roger that.”
“You aren’t going to try to convince me otherwise?”
“Absolutely not.”
He checked his phone. There weren’t any messages, but it was getting late.
“Let me guess, you’re hungry.”
Dutch laughed out loud. “It’s never a question of whether I am or not, just to what degree.”
“Are you getting tired of Spanish food yet?”
“No…”
Malin stood and walked over to the pantry and then opened the refrigerator.
“You’re in luck,” she told him.
“Yeah?”
“Yep. Although you’ll have to accept marinara from a jar.” Malin pulled ground beef and eggs out of the fridge; pasta, sauce, and breadcrumbs from the cupboard.
“You have no idea how happy I am right now. Anything I can do to help?”
“Would you mind seeing if we can piece together garlic bread?”
“In exchange for your spaghetti and meatballs? It’s the least I’d be willing to do.”
“Well, you did save my life.”
“I did, Malin.” Dutch looked into her eyes. Was she teasing, or had she accepted that Orlov would’ve killed her?
“Thank you,” she murmured. “It means a lot that you have my back, Dutch.”
He walked over and put his arm around her shoulders, pulled her close, and kissed her forehead. “Always, baby. I hope you know how sincerely I mean that.”
She brought her lips to his in a kiss that was more chaste than he would’ve liked. However, she was about to make his favorite meal ever, so he wouldn’t do anything to distract her.
—:—
Dutch devoured three-quarters of the pound of spaghetti Malin cooked, and all but two of the meatballs.
“You can have the last one,” she told him.
“Are you sure?”
Malin laughed and nodded. “Do you really like them that much, or do you just pretend to make me feel good?”
Dutch leaned forward, grabbed her nape and pulled her close so their foreheads touched. “I don’t like them; I love them.”
Malin studied his mouth as he spoke, yearning to feel his lips on hers.
“A half hour ago, I wouldn’t have done this, but now I can’t stop myself.”
He covered her mouth with his, pushing his tongue through her lips. “I’ll clean up later,” he told her, standing and taking her by the hand.
Malin followed him up the two flights to the bedroom, already trembling with want.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he murmured as he pulled her shirt over her head.
“Me either,” she said, doing the same with his.
Once they were both naked, they lay on the bed and stretched out on their sides, facing one another.
Dutch took his time, moving his eyes over her body. Their languid lovemaking was at once pleasure-filled and painfully slow, but Malin wouldn’t want him to do anything differently.
There was a connection between them that had nothing to do with frenzy. It was sensuous and unhurried, so full of love that Malin thought her heart would burst.
The way Dutch looked at her filled her heart—it was as though she was the sexiest, most precious, most loved woman alive.
Malin closed her eyes, refusing to let an unrealistic expectation ruin the magic that was between them.
—:—
An unfamiliar feeling took hold of Dutch’s chest and wouldn’t let go. As his eyes lingered on Malin’s body—her gorgeous, delectable, mind-blowingly sexy body, he found himself looking deeper. He looked into her eyes flecked with brown, green, and blue, that changed so often, and he felt as though he could see the purity of Malin’s soul.
Was he confusing his need to protect her, take care of her, keep her safe, with loving her? Or, did he feel all of those things because he loved her?
He could no longer go so slow. Passion overtook him as he moved over her. “I need you now, baby,” he breathed, entering her body with his.
When her body arched and yielded to his, Dutch came so close to saying the words he vowed he never would because he’d convinced himself he’d never feel them.
Did he love Malin Kilbourne? As more than a friend? As more than someone he was protecting? Did he love her as the woman he wanted to spend his life with? He didn’t know. Not yet anyway.
“Dutch,” she groaned.
“Shh,” he whispered. “Just let me love you, Malin.”
—:—
They made love so many times, Malin felt as though she hadn’t slept more than an hour. Her body was as sore as it was sated and her heart was so full it leaked through the smile on her face.
Dutch had held her so tight, so close to him, like he’d never let her go. His fingers dug into her flesh, and when she thought their bodies couldn’t get any closer, he tightened his grip until as much of their skin as possible was flush against the other’s.
He slept now, but soon they’d have to leave their pretend life and go out and face the uncertainty of her real one.
She’d gone it alone for so long that it was hard to let herself lean on Dutch, but knowing he’d be with her when they left the island, eased her worry.
“What are you thinking so hard about, baby?”
Malin turned and smiled down at him. “Not wanting to leave even though I know I have no choice.”
Dutch sat up. “You do have a choice. We can stay right here and let the K19 team on the West Coast sort this out with Ghafor.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. I started this mission, and I have to see it through.”
12
“Doc said to come straight to the house in Montecito after we land,” Onyx told Dutch when he and Malin boarded the plane.
“Who’s flying with you?”
“Corazón.”
“Where is she?”
Onyx motioned toward the back of the plane, and Dutch saw her talking to Malin.
“How’d things go the rest of the time on the island?”
“It got worse before it got better, and then it got great.”
“Glad to hear it, bro.”
Dutch rolled his eyes and walked back to join the two women.
“I’ll talk more with you later,” he heard Sofia say to Malin as she walked past him and waved.
“You two seem to get along well.”
“She’s very nice.”
“So are you.”
Malin smiled. “Thank you, Dutch. You’re pretty nice too.”
He took her hand in his after they’d chosen seats and fastened their seatbelts.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“Okay. Better than I would be if you weren’t with me.”
Dutch put his hand on his heart. “That’s about the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
When Malin put her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder, Dutch felt ten feet tall. Malin was the most independent woman he’d ever known, even more so than Alegria. Having her put her trust in him filled him with pride.
“I’m so tired,” she murmured, grinning at him.
Dutch reclined his seat and hers, and she rested her head on his shoulder.
“Sleep, baby,” he murmured, kissing her forehead.
—:—
“Wow,” commented Malin when they drove up to the gates of Doc and Merrigan’s Montecito compound.
“I know,” said Dutch. “It’s impressive.”
“It’s so beautiful,” commented Sofia from the front seat of the SUV, glancing over at Onyx, who was driving.
“It’s definitely my dream house,” he commented.
The outside of the Spanish Colonial Revival house was white stucco with dark brown shutters and a red-tile roof. Balconies with wrought-iron railings extended from every upstairs room, and massive palm trees, which looked old enough to have been planted before the house was built, stretched high above the roof line. Bright pink bougainvillea grew up the side walls of the five-car garage near where Onyx parked the SUV that had been waiting for them at the airfield. Weathered terracotta pots, overflowing with flowers and vines, dotted the circular drive and the welcoming entryway leading to the massive wooden door.
“Welcome,” said Doc, walking out holding a baby. “This is Laird,” he said when the boy tried to squirm out of his arms.
“How old is he?” Malin asked, holding out her finger for him to grab.
“Almost five months.”
Malin’s eyes opened wide. The baby was huge, but looking at his father, it shouldn’t have been a surprise.
“Merrigan is inside.” Doc motioned toward the door that led into the main room. It had massive, dark wood beams on the ceiling and a fireplace that sat opposite the front door and matched the color of the home’s exterior.
Dark leather chairs and sofas sat on the tile floors and Mexican rugs. They walked from that room into the kitchen, the dining room, and out a double door that led to a patio where Merrigan was snipping herbs from a large pot similar to the ones that lined the driveway and front door.
“Hi,” she said, setting her shears and the herbs on the table and wiping her hands on her pants. “You must be Malin,” she said with an accent that sounded more Scottish than English.
“It’s nice to meet you,” said Malin, shaking the woman’s outstretched hand. “You have a beautiful home, and baby.”
“I have to admit that I think so too, although I’m not sure how long we’ll be able to call Laird beautiful.” Merrigan smiled at her husband, who beamed back at her. “He’s handsome, right, Kade?”
The woman hugged Dutch and Onyx and then introduced herself to Sofia.
“He wants his mum,” Merrigan said as the baby scrambled from his father’s arms to hers. “Are you hungry?” she asked them.
“How about you, Dutch? Are you hungry?” Malin asked, smiling.
Dutch grabbed her nape, pulled her close to him, and kissed her temple. “You’re teasing me.”
Malin put her arm around his waist and her head on his shoulder. “He’s always hungry.”
“Lunch is almost ready,” Merrigan told them, leading them back into the house.
“Can I help?” Malin asked when Merrigan set the baby in a high chair and started pulling things out of the refrigerator. “Although I won’t be as helpful as Sofia, given she’s a veritable chef.”
Merrigan clapped her hands and directed Sofia to where she had several ingredients ready for a large salad.
“You could slice the bread, if you wouldn’t mind,” she said to Malin, who turned the warm loaf upside down before slicing it.
“You’re a baker,” Merrigan commented.
“Not as much as I used to be, but my dad and I always made fresh bread on the weekend.”
“That’s a lovely memory.”
Malin murmured her agreement and looked over at Dutch, who was studying her. She felt her cheeks flush and heat spread down her neck when he winked at her.
“Is it a bad thing to say I love seeing her in the kitchen?” she heard Dutch ask Doc and Onyx, who were sitting with him at the table.
“I don’t know. Is it, Fatale?” Doc asked his wife.
“It doesn’t bother me. Does it you, Malin? What about you, Sofia?”
“My dream is to own a restaurant,” Sofia responded, turning to look at Onyx, who was beaming at her in the same way Dutch was looking at Malin and Doc at Merrigan.
“Malin?” Dutch asked.
“It doesn’t bother me,” she murmured, sneaking another glance at the man who was looking at her like she would be as good to eat as the lunch they were preparing. “Sometimes it’s nice to be normal.”
Malin had no doubt that Merrigan knew exactly what she meant. Until recently, the woman had been a high-ranking MI-6 agent and, from what she’d heard, was now the managing partner of K19 Security Solutions.
Merrigan smiled and handed her a bowl of salad that Malin set on the table.
