“You deserve to be spoiled, Sloan.” He wanted to spoil her for the rest of their lives if only she’d give him one last chance. He saw the longing in her eyes and this time, he knew he wasn’t seeing things. He swallowed hard and walked back to the stove, turning on the burner and sliding the skillet into place over the flame.
“You have good timing,” he told her. “I was throwing together some bacon, tomatoes, fresh basil leaves, and feta cheese for my omelet. Sound good to you?”
“Does it ever,” she said, appreciating the strong, hot coffee she held between her hands. “It looks like you’ve gained back some weight since getting wounded. Sloan was starved for information about Dan. He looked so damned sexy in those jeans, the hard curve of his thighs, the erection she saw pushing against his zipper. Dan wanted her. That sent a ribbon of blazing heat through her, her nipples tightening, remembering his mouth worshiping them, sending her spinning into a world of satisfaction and need for more of him.
“I’ve gained back ten pounds.” Dan busied himself, glad that he’d put on Christmas music once again. Hope threaded through him as he made the huge omelet and divided it, placing it on two dark green plates. There was a new, profound sense of peace that filled him simply because she was at the table, drinking her coffee. He didn’t mind if they didn’t talk. Just having her presence was a gift of monumental importance to him.
The toast popped up, and he transferred the slices to another plate. He brought over the omelets and the toast. Taking out the butter and strawberry jam from the fridge, he set them in front of her.
“Want to do the honors and butter our toast?”
“Sure,” she murmured, giving him a warm look. “I didn’t realize how much of a hausfrau you are, Dan.”
He snorted, retrieving the silverware from a drawer. “I learned early on how to make breakfast for myself.” He saw sudden sympathy come to her eyes as she quickly buttered their toast. “Sorry,” he mumbled, “I didn’t mean to go there.”
“It’s all right,” she soothed, her voice choked with emotion. “I’ve always wanted to know more about you, Dan.”
Grimacing, he sat down at her elbow after pouring himself some coffee. “Some things are better left buried. I’m not proud of what happened.”
Sloan bit back her sympathetic comment. She wanted this breakfast to be happy, not torn up with bad memories from his past. Dan had too many already. She didn’t want to drag him down into it this morning. “Well,” she said, pretending a brightness she didn’t feel, “this omelet looks delicious.”
“Hungry?” he asked adding salt and pepper to his omelet.
“Starved.”
He heard a quaver in her husky voice, saw the desire in her eyes. Sloan ate like she was starved. “You look like you’ve lost some weight,” he noted midway through their meal. “Have you?”
“Yes. That’s pretty normal for me when I’m on an assignment in a third-world country. I always bring my junk food over with me, but then I run out, and I’m eating what everyone else eats.”
“I know that one.” A grin leaked from one corner of his mouth. Dan absorbed her warming presence, wanting to have every morning just like this one. His heart ached with anguish because he knew it wasn’t going to happen. He had no one but himself to blame for the situation and the outcome.
“It’s so beautiful outside,” she said, poking her fork in the direction of the huge picture window in the living room. “I really looked forward to coming home. I love snow.”
“I was going over at noon to the local mission in Alexandria,” he confided. “I don’t like Christmas for a lot of reasons, but I like to do something that helps those who have less than I do.”
She gave him a thoughtful look. “Could you use a partner, Dan? I’d love to do that with you. I believe in giving back at this time of year, too. It’s the least I can do.”
Surprised, he blinked once, assimilating her request. “Aren’t you whipped from that flight?”
“Yes, but so what? I work tired, too.” She finished off her omelet and slathered the jam across one piece of toast. “Do you not want me to come with you? I’m okay if you don’t.”
“Yes, I’d like your company,” he stumbled, pushing his empty plate aside. “I guess I didn’t think you’d want to be around me for that kind of time, Sloan.” He saw her eyes grow dark, avoiding his look.
“I came home to see you, Dan.” Her voice lowered. “I needed to come clean with you, to tell you the rest of what I’ve been hiding from you.” She sighed wearily, giving him a tender look. “I’m just as culpable in this on-again, off-again relationship of ours. “I didn’t lie to you, but I wasn’t forthcoming because of the investigation that I had to do to clear your name.”
Sitting back, he studied her intently. “Then let’s talk this out?”
Nodding, she pushed the chair back and said, “Yes. Sit with me on the couch?”
Here it came. Dan tried to steel himself against what he knew was coming. He followed her, and like the night before, they each took a corner of the sofa, facing one another, a good four feet between them. It might as well have been the Grand Canyon to him because he desperately wanted to reach Sloan, tell her how much he cared for her. He couldn’t use the word love, frustrated by his lack of experience with it—and that was his fault, too. He never allowed any woman close to him. Except she had somehow melted through all his barriers, dissolved the shield that protected his heart. And now, he lamented as never before his past behavior because he’d stolen so much from her, but also, from himself.
“When you voluntarily left my home two months ago, I started to ask myself a lot of questions, Dan.” Her voice grew strained. “I knew about the investigation. I never told you about it, and it made me feel guilty, but you were wounded, and I wasn’t about to bring it up then. I asked Tal to send me to Ethiopia because I needed the time away from you. When I’m with you, Dan, I can’t think straight. I’m so hungry for you in every way.”
“Yeah, there’s no question we’re good together in bed, Sloan. But that wasn’t our issue, was it?”
“No, it wasn’t. But by the same token, with you living with me and me being your caregiver, I felt so many more things for you. And you have to admit, your charisma is powerful and I have always thrived beneath it. I did at Bagram, despite the rules you laid down for me.”
“And you fell in love with me, anyway.”
She sobered. “Yes, I did. I never didn’t love you even after you walked out of my life.”
“But then?” he offered, his heart shredding with anguish, “there was this other layer of wondering whether I was an alcoholic like my old man.”
She sighed and sat up, a low urgency in her voice. “Dan, I never believed that of you. I took that mission from Tal to clear your name. I didn’t know how I could do it. All I knew is that I wanted to. And at the time, I didn’t know the rest of the story about why you’d left me at Bagram.”
“But even without that piece of intel,” he said roughly, “you had my back.”
“Because I loved you, Dan.”
“But I broke your heart again. I told you why I’d left.”
Shaking her head, she forced her emotions to ramp down. “I was stunned by the information. I couldn’t think clearly at the time. I needed to go away and feel my way through everything you’d told me.” She rubbed her brow, giving him a searching look. “And I had questions for you. Important ones. Ones that only you could answer.”
“Like what?” he asked.
She rubbed her hand down her thigh. “Like the real reason you couldn’t tell me why you were walking away.”
“I told you, Sloan, I had too much damned pride to tell you the truth.”
“Did you want to, though?”
“Yes, but I couldn’t go there.