Dutch laughed out loud. “That is damn hard for me to do. God, I…”
“You care about her.”
“I do, and right now I’d be willing to do just about anything to tell her that.”
“And I’d be willing to bet that glass of bourbon that she’s lying in that bed, wishing you were with her.”
“I don’t know about that. She was clear she wanted me to leave.”
“Trust me on this one, and go now before you have another drink.”
Dutch nodded and left his still-full glass on the table. “Thanks, Fatale.”
“My pleasure,” she said, downing the bourbon.
—:—
Malin had gone from furious to wondering what in the hell was wrong with her. What had Dutch done that was so awful? Yeah, maybe he was a little over the top with this make-believe life he was creating for the two of them, but he was right, she’d wanted to pretend for a little while too.
As much as she knew she should get out of bed and walk back over to the winery to apologize, she didn’t feel like getting dressed. Even getting out of the cozy bed to find her phone and send him a text was too much for her.
Her body and her brain were both so tired. The only time she’d slept well in as long as she could remember was when Dutch was in bed beside her. And what had she done? She’d sent him away.
Where was he now? In the winery with Mantis and Alegria, talking about the good old days when they were the three amigos? He’d probably even told Frenchie that she’d asked him to leave, proving her right.
She groaned and threw the covers off, feeling around for the switch on the bedside lamp. Even if she couldn’t show her face, she had to at least text him and tell him she was sorry.
She froze when she heard the door open at the foot of the stairs and cursed herself for how much she’d let her guard down. She looked around, saw where she’d laid the gun McTiernan had issued her, and switched off the light.
“Malin?” she heard Dutch say. “Don’t shoot, baby. It’s just me.”
She switched the light back on, grabbed the throw that was across the end of the bed and wrapped it around her naked body.
“Come in,” she said when she heard him knock on the bedroom door. He walked in with his hands raised.
“I’m not going to shoot you,” she said, pushing back on the bed and resting against the headboard. “I was just about to text you.”
Dutch sat on the bed, next to her. “What were you going to say?”
“I was going to ask you to come back.”
“Yeah? What else?”
“I was going to ask if you’d consider sleeping with me.”
Dutch reached around, pulled his shirt over his head, and tossed it on the floor. He leaned forward and moved her hand away from where she clasped the blanket, and spread it open.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Malin.” He came closer and laved her right nipple while he pinched the left between two fingers.
“Your body,” he moved his head and covered her left nipple with his lips, “was made for mine.”
Malin’s head fell back against the headboard, and she weaved her fingers into Dutch’s hair.
“Tell me you forgive me,” he said as he scattered kisses from her breasts, up her neck, to her lips. “Tell me you want me here with you.”
“I do,” she said, holding his face in her hands. “I’m sorry, Dutch.”
“Shh, don’t be. Sometimes I’m pretty thick-headed. All you gotta do is give me a swift kick, and I’ll fall back in line.”