Kathleen Creighton - Guarding The Soldier's Secret

He’d thought he knew her pretty well, well enough at least to know she had nerves of steel. Ordinarily. But she’d been silent and withdrawn during the meal—with him, anyway—and he had an idea there was a lot churning around in that red head of hers. Because silence wasn’t a normal state for Yancy Malone.

“She’s asleep,” she said, and he nodded.

She glanced at him as she walked past him, deeper into the shadowed courtyard, where she lifted a hand to touch a blossom hanging from a vine. “It’s nice out here.”

“Yes,” he said, watching her. Waiting.

She turned to fully face him—as if squaring for battle. He couldn’t help but think how beautiful she was with that fierceness about her.

“Dinner was wonderful. Please tell... Mehri, wasn’t it?” He nodded. “Please tell her how much we—Laila and I—enjoyed it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen or tasted so many different rice dishes. And the qorma was fabulous. I’m going to have to ask her for the recipe.”

Seriously? It sounded as if she’d rehearsed it.

He answered with a stilted nod. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to share it with you. Afghan people are justifiably proud of their cuisine, as well as their hospitality.”

Her smile flickered and finally went out. Her gaze wandered away from his face and was jerked back, like a restive horse fighting the reins, to meet his, this time with defiance.

“Well?” he said. Gently rather than with impatience.

He heard the slight catch in her breathing. “Well, what?”

“I know you’ve been wanting to ask questions. So—ask.”

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.