Keagan hitched a hip on the desk corner. "Now's the time to prove to us just how smart you are."
She pleated the scarf in her lap faster. Nerves? Or lies? "It is obvious you are here for more than dropping off food for starving locals. Ammar al-Khayr has escaped justice in the States once. I sincerely hope you are here to dispense it now so he cannot appropriate the funds of every orphan who happens to share a distant relative with the man. I am not the first he has tried this with. A simple search will tell you that. As you so eloquently put it, your own unfortunate ambassador here was assassinated. And only because the ambassador's wife was related to Ammar who wanted control over the man's wealth through his children."
She paused, frowning. "Or maybe you already know that."
That and more. Baker's father, the man's wealth and political influence was far spread and well known in the States. The very damned reason Baker and Jack Korba together had been able to land themselves on this mission. >For the first time in nearly four months, she dared dream about afterward. She wasn't naive enough to imagine she would escape this hell without some emotional scars. She wondered if it would be easier to move forward with someone who understood the nightmare as Phillip and Kayla had done. Or would any relationship need to be a fresh start with no connections or reminders of...everything.
Of course, she would have one very tangible reminder in the baby. She wouldn't abort it. And even as she considered adoption, she just as quickly abandoned the notion because it smacked too much of her mother's leaving. As much as she tried to put a positive spin on that one, it still hurt.
Deeply. It had taken her a long time to share her real feelings about that with Blake.
She squinted into the rippling heat waves distorting the horizon. Could he see her? Focus in on her more clearly now than he had in those early months of their relationship when she'd kept so much hidden. Out of his reach. She tried to remember what sort of equipment he mentioned using on other missions. But then before long they'd avoided talking about work. Hers and his.
Until finally there hadn't been anything left to talk about but their jobs...
"If you quit, I will, too.'' Sydney delivered her ultimatum with hope, even while deep within her a voice much like her practical sister's insisted she'd just dealt the relationship a death blow.
Blake turned his head on the pillow. "What?''
"If you quit the Navy, I'll resign my position with the IFB. I won't go to Rubistan.''
He leaned to kiss her, inching the patchwork quilt higher to combat the Virginia winter chill. "You know I can't do that. I owe time. I can't walk away without risking a court martial.''
"Then stop being a SEAL. There are other things you can do in the Navy that won't take you into the same dark pits you've seen lately.''
He stopped adjusting the quilt around them. Morning sun glinted a halo off his golden hair, highlighting the swirl of his boyish cowlick so at odds with the honed man. "You're not really serious. You just want me to be the one to say no so you're off the hook.''
"Try me.''
"Fine, then." Rare strains of anger tightened his jaw. "I'll make this easy for you. Quitting is not an option. I'm a SEAL. It's who I am and if you can't live with that then apparently you can't live with me."
"Why can't you see the same applies for me, as well? The very things you want from me are the things that make it impossible for me to walk away from what I do."
"Bullshit. At least I protect myself.''
"We have protection. Escorts."
He snorted.
"More of you are injured and killed in your profession than mine. The only real difference I can see here is that you're a man and I'm a woman."
His eyes shut tight. Exploding into motion, he rolled away from her and buried his face in his hands. "Damn it, Sydney, you don't know what I've seen over there. What they can do to you.''
Because he wouldn't talk to her. Instead he let it swallow him whole until she, knew one day he wouldn't come back even if the shell of his body walked in the door. "I love you, Blake.''
Muscles flexed and rippled across his back, twitched in his arms. "You know I love you, too.'' His hoarse answer scratched the air.
"I'm not so sure love is enough anymore if we can't accept each other.'' She sat up, pulled her knees to her chest, the gulf between them widening by the second. "You tell me all the time I'm yourhaven. Well, you know what? You don't want me so much as somebody to save you the same way I save homeless kids in a Third World country.''
How damned ironic that now Blake would be the one saving her.
She stared out at the hard-caked sand and winged her thoughts toward him. I'm sorry.
If only she'd thought to say it then.
Sydney walked as close to the edge of the camp as she dared and talked to Kayla and Phillip in case Blake could hear with all that equipment they never discussed. The sound of his voice had brought her immeasurable comfort two nights ago. She hoped hers, if he could hear her, would do the same.
"Who won the last game of spades?"