She propped her hands on her hips. “Oh, I see. So it had nothing to do with me.” Stop it! Stop flirting with him.
He flirted right back. “Okay, I admit it wasn’t the beer. Your grace and beauty led me to temporary insanity.”
“As long as it doesn’t happen again,” she warned.
He just looked at her, making no such promise.
Nina eyed the bag of food. “Do you mind eating in my studio?” She gestured to the building.
His surprise appeared a bit overdone. “Oh, do you work here?”
He clearly knew the answer already. Only one person could have told him that—Eden!
Cautioning herself to be on her guard, Nina didn’t bother with an answer. She collected her purse and led the way inside, flipping on the lights and locking the door behind them.
“This is where the parents wait,” she explained, pointing out the various spaces. “The dressing room and bathrooms are over there. Here, I sell dance paraphernalia. My office is where I do my accounting. And the studio is in the back.” She pointed to a set of double doors.
“Do you own or rent?” Santiago asked with seeming interest.
“Own.” She indicated the tiny bistro table by the windows. As he pulled wrapped gyros out of the bag, she dashed to her office for some paper plates.
“Now, we can be civilized,” she said.
To her bemusement, he held her seat for her.
“Thank you,” she mumbled as he pushed it in, then sat across from her.
“Do you teach any adult classes?” he inquired as he took his first bite.
“I have a few adults in my advanced ballet classes. Why, do you want to learn to dance?”
“I would love to learn ballroom dancing. Don’t tell anyone I said that until I retire,” he added lightly.
“You’re an excellent dancer.” She recalled how they’d stolen the show on salsa night at the brewery.
“I would love to dance with you again.”
His impassioned statement shortened her breath. She forced herself to take a bite of the gyro he’d laid out for her, to chew, and to swallow it.
“I’m afraid that won’t happen,” she answered apologetically.
A taut silence fell between them until Santiago broke it.
“Not all men are like your ex-husband,” he stated unexpectedly.
Nina’s eyes flew wide. “I see Eden’s been talking to you. How much did she tell you?”
“Very little,” Santiago soothed. “Just that you’d been mistreated.”
Her face flamed, making her grateful for her Mediterranean coloring.
“I don’t need or want your pity,” she informed him.
He smiled the tiniest of smiles. “Good. I’m not interested in pitying you. I simply want to get to know you better.”
Suddenly less ravenous, Nina put her gyro down. She wished she hadn’t taken him up on his offer to share his supper.
“There’s really no point,” she forced herself to say. “I really can’t…give you what you’re looking for.” The words wanted to stick in her throat.
“You can’t enjoy a picnic on the beach with me?”
She knew he wanted more than that, yet he sent her such an innocent, appealing look she had to laugh.
“You’re a manipulative creature,” she accused.
“Of course I am.” He admitted the truth with a self-deprecatory nod. “Years of practice making men do what I want without browbeating them.”
The reminder of what he did for a living sobered her. She wished he weren’t so terribly appealing to her. His quick wit, his sense of humor, his humility and gentlemanly behavior all conspired to make her want to spend time with him. But what would that accomplish?
Eventually he would ask her to marry him—provided she didn’t scare him away first. And Nina had zero desire to shackle herself to another husband.
Her ex had been a Turk from the old country, with values that relegated women to mere chattel. Santiago may seem kind and amenable now, but he, too, was from a male-centric culture. No doubt, once she knew him well enough, she would see his true stripes. Right now, all she saw was what he wanted her to see.
“I’m sorry.” She stuck to her guns. “I’m not interested in a relationship.”
His smile faded. The sparkle went out of his eyes. She felt like she’d reached out and pinched him.
“Please don’t look at me that way,” she said when he kept quiet.
He looked down at his half-finished food for a minute, then back up at her.
“Please reconsider,” he requested. “I can move as slowly as it takes for you to learn to trust me. There is no other woman in the world I want to spend time with more than you. Please don’t take hope from me.”
His plea cracked the thick layer of ice around her heart.
“Come enjoy a picnic on the beach with me one evening,” he added when she continued to look at him, weakening by the second. “What about tomorrow? I’ll pick you up right here after work.”
“I teach every evening until eight. That’s too late for a picnic.”
“Saturday afternoon, then.”
Nina couldn’t think of an excuse to avoid the invitation. Eden had texted her with a request to pet sit for the next few days, but the dog could certainly stay by itself for a few hours.
“Leave me your number,” she decided without much grace. “I’ll text you and let you know if I’m free.”
His eyes softened, then crinkled at the corners in a private smile.
“Good enough.” With impressive efficiency, he dug a pen and a notepad out of the breast pocket on his jacket.
“You won’t regret saying yes,” he promised, scribbling down his number.
She wasn’t so sure of that. As she eyed the number on the slip of paper, it occurred to her that she was under siege. With a Navy SEAL scaling her walls, her safe existence was about to be tested.
Chapter 15
Setting the table in her parents’ formal dining room, Eden paid scant attention to her mother’s soliloquy. Fortunately, Elke Evans required a minimum of feedback to keep a conversation flowing, and Eden’s lack of response had gone unnoticed.
“We heard from Phoebe yesterday,” Elke continued from within the kitchen. Through the wide opening connecting the two rooms, Eden saw her stick her head into the oven to read the meat thermometer. “She and Rick are coming for Thanksgiving this year with the kids. I told her you and Jonah would be here, too.”
Eden rolled her eyes. It hadn’t even occurred to her mother to ask if they had other plans.
Nor did her mother mention Miriam.
“Another half an hour on this ham,” Elke determined, closing the oven and straightening to her full height. Whether from the heat in the kitchen or the pure pleasure of seeing Jonah again, Elke glowed. Taller than both her daughters, the native German looked nowhere close to her sixty-three years. In celebration of Jonah’s resurrection, she had thrown herself into preparing a veritable feast.
Eden hesitated over the silverware she was pulling from the buffet. What if she and Jonah weren’t even together at Thanksgiving? If he reverted suddenly to the man he was before, or if his delusions proved too much for her to handle, it could mean an end to the fragile bond they’d created. Her parents would be crushed, of course.
She heaved a sigh. What else was new? The only time she’d ever met their expectations was when she’d married Jonah.
“What’s Phoebe up to these days?” she asked. She hadn’t spoken to her perfect, older sister in months. Phoebe, who had married a lawyer and begotten two handsome boys, reminded Eden of her shortcomings.
As her mother filled her in, Eden turned toward the cherry-wood dining table to lay sterling silver utensils on either side of the china plates. In the center of the table, a bouquet of roses basked in the light pouring through the paned window. The roses made Eden think of her wedding day two years earlier and the hopefulness that had been in her heart.
&n
bsp; How strange to realize she felt that same way now!
If only Jonah wasn’t suffering from what looked like PTSD.
Coming to the end of the table, Eden raised her eyes and caught Jonah’s reflection in the mirror. He sat beyond the living room in the glassed-in sunroom at the back of the house. Through the large panes beyond him, the immaculate lawn of the Georgian home swept down to the Severn River.
From where he sat, she could see his expression as he followed her father’s words. By now she had expected he would assume his military demeanor—a narrow-eyed, thin-lipped look her father never failed to inspire in him.
But Jonah wasn’t wearing that expression just yet. He merely looked respectful and attentive. Her thoughts went back to their arrival and how strangely hurt she’d felt when he recognized her father immediately. Then again, her father had been Jonah’s teacher many years before she’d been Jonah’s wife.
She was about to turn away when she realized Jonah was glancing at Miriam, who was seated in the living room. Turning her head, Eden looked at her, too. As she’d predicted, Miriam perceived their visit to Annapolis as her punishment for trying to buy cigarettes. No assurances to the contrary could convince her otherwise, and, now, she was staring glumly at a television show with the volume barely audible.
Eden looked back at Jonah’s reflection. Miriam’s long face had given rise to a slight frown between his eyebrows. He’s worried about her, Eden realized. Nor was his concern purely for Eden’s benefit. He hadn’t noticed Eden watching him. He honestly cared about her daughter. He really was a different man!
A wave of affection buoyed her heart. If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is, she thought, sending up a prayer of thanks for a prayer answered.
Smiling inwardly, Eden turned back to her task, thinking how wonderful it would be if she and Jonah could start over again and get things right this time.
Almost at once, she remembered Jonah’s diagnosis, and her confidence faltered. How would he ever get better if he refused to talk to his psychiatrist? The article on PTSD suggested the disorder only got worse if it was left untreated.
What was worse—a husband too wrapped up in his work to find time for family or a husband who suffered imaginary fears?
Jonah found Commander Evans thoroughly informed about what was happening on Dam Neck. Then again, he was friends with the previous base commander, Vice Admiral Leland, who must have told him about the weapons disappearing.
“It happened again, didn’t it, the night you disappeared?” he asked Jonah.
“I’m sorry, sir. Even if I could remember, I’m not at liberty to talk about that night.”
“Of course not.” Evans shook his full head of silver hair. “I can’t believe you’re sitting in front of me, alive and basically in one piece.” His pitying gaze went to the stunted nails on Jonah’s left hand. “NCIS must be having a field day trying to make sense of it.”
Jonah shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with his memory loss and fighting to keep his eyelids from drooping. In Commander Evans’s eyes, he’d always been on the cutting edge, informed about world events, with an opinion on everything. What would Evans think if Jonah admitted his primary concern at the moment was keeping his marriage intact?
Evans propped his elbows on his knees, pitched his voice in a conspiratorial whisper, and added, “I’ve wondered if your disappearance wasn’t related to the thefts.”
The words affected Jonah’s heart like a defibrillator, bringing him wide awake and raising his blood pressure. He had wondered that very thing himself, but hearing the commander say it made it seem suddenly likely.
“What makes you say that?”
The question seemed to baffle Evans, but then his expression cleared.
“You don’t remember, do you?”
Blood swished against Jonah’s eardrums. “Remember what?”
Evans leaned in farther and said on a low note, “You phoned me several nights before the op. You said you’d found some evidence or something that explained where the intel leak might be.”
Goosebumps scrabbled up Jonah’s arms and tugged at his scalp.
“I found something? What did I find?”
“I’m not sure.” The commander’s blue eyes blazed with interest. “You didn’t give me any specifics, only that you had suspicions and you were casting nets. I had to wonder, though, when you disappeared a few days later, if you hadn’t confronted the wrong person.”
Dear God. Jonah picked up the glass of water next to him and with a shaky hand gulped down half of it. He couldn’t remember a word of what Evans was telling him, yet he knew it to be true. He had found evidence. What kind? Where? He had confronted the culprit—Lowery. It had to be Lowery. Why else would the man have tried killing him again?
Mixed emotions twisted through Jonah. On one hand, having his suspicions verified meant he wasn’t paranoid. On the other, the feeling he was in imminent danger ambushed him anew. His gaze went straight out the glass windows to the large, lush yard.
Trees and bushes abounded, offering cover to a potential hitman. Could Lowery have followed them up here? What if he was out there hiding even then, just waiting for a perfect shot? Jonah put a wary hand on the pistol at his hip, taking comfort from its protection.
The Commander’s sudden bark nearly startled him into drawing it.
“How many times have I told you that’s not a toy?”
Jonah followed the Commander’s glare in time to see Miriam snatch her hand back from the chess set siting on the coffee table.
As Eden stuck her head out of the dining room to assess the situation, Miriam paled and stiffened but did not talk back.
Jonah seized the opportunity to mend some broken fences. “Is the board just for show, sir?” he asked, maintaining his deference.
“Well, no. I use it all the time,” Evans admitted.
“Maybe you’d like to challenge Miriam to a game,” Jonah suggested. “You play chess, don’t you, squirt?”
“I know how,” she responded in a tone that conveyed she would rather eat dirt than challenge the man who’d just yelled at her.
“Go up against me first,” Jonah suggested. “Then winner takes on Grandpa.” He looked back at Evans to gauge his response.
“By all means.” The CO waved him away.
Jonah jumped to his feet and headed for the chessboard, rubbing his hands in exaggerated anticipation. A game of chess would help take his mind off his fears.
Miriam’s expression brightened as he took the seat across from her. Glancing back at Evans’s glowering expression, he called out, “Care to watch, sir? This could get ugly. Miriam’s already beaten me at Catan. She must have inherited her grandfather’s gift for strategy.”
To his satisfaction, the commander rolled to his feet and settled onto the sofa, next to his granddaughter.
Half an hour later, with Miriam’s queen poised for a checkmate, Eden ventured into the living room to announce dinner was ready.
“Checkmate,” Miriam said, raising a triumphant eyebrow at Jonah.
Evans roared in approval. “By God, I don’t believe it!” His wife joined Eden to see what all the fuss was about. “Did you see that, Elke? Your granddaughter just bested Jonah at chess, and I’m next.”
“That’ll have to wait until after dinner,” Eden’s mother informed him. At the same time, she cut an approving look at Miriam. “Kindly wash up, everyone, and head to the table.”
The commander muttered for Miriam’s benefit, “Aye, aye, Captain.”
She quirked a smile at him.
Meeting Eden’s watchful gaze, Jonah trusted she’d noticed how he’d conquered the generation gap, at least for today. He sent her a private wink, causing her eyes to widen. He realized she was looking at him the way she had in their wedding photos.
Did that mean she was giving their marriage the chance it deserved?
If that was the case, Jonah couldn’t let Lowery get the better of him. Whatever it took,
he had to remember why Lowery had turned on him in the first place, and he had to do it before the man succeeded in killing him on his third try.
Returning from her shower in the hallway bathroom, Eden slipped into her parents’ guest bedroom and drew up short at the sight that greeted her.
Jonah had drawn the blinds and turned off all the lights, save the one by the double bed. Using a spare blanket he must have found in the cedar chest, he’d made a bed for himself on the floor and was lying on it. Draped in a sheet and with his head on a pillow, he watched her response to his actions.
“You know I can sleep anywhere,” he said with a reassuring smile.
With her hand still on the doorknob, Eden surreptitiously turned the lock. Her pulse, which had been thrumming for hours at the thought of sharing a room with her husband, quickened. She hadn’t had the heart nor the gumption to mention to her folks that she and Jonah kept separate rooms at home.
She was glad she hadn’t. What he had done earlier in the day, standing up for Miriam, had made her realize she’d been withholding her support, whereas Jonah had been giving his all. In an instant, she’d made a decision.
Jonah deserved a second chance. She didn’t have to believe his allegations about Jimmy, but she could at least stand beside him and encourage him in his therapy. She could stop talking or even thinking about separating and start fighting for their marriage.
If they got through Jonah’s recovery together, she would know they could get through anything.
Conscious of his watchful gaze, she crossed toward the bed to pull the covers back, only to realize he’d done it for her, a sweet gesture that further encouraged her.
“What are you thinking?” he asked as she slipped beneath the sheets.
Twisting onto her side, she plumped up the pillow until she could look at him. His catlike eyes reflected the lamp shining between them.
“I’m still thinking about the movie,” she said, guarding her decision a while longer.
They had watched a DVD of Unbroken after dinner, a drama released several years before about a WWII soldier who’d suffered captivity in a Japanese prison camp.
Returning to Eden (Acts of Valor, Book 1): Christian Military Romantic Suspense Page 23
