Mission: Impossible to Deny (The Impossible Mission Romantic Suspense Series Book 7)

by Jacki Delecki

  She was shaking her head vehemently to whatever her boss was saying. With her back to him, he couldn’t see, but he’d bet that her lower lip was tucked in as she tried to withhold her opinion. This woman did have a problem with authority, or perhaps men in general.

  The newspaper article about her father’s murder said that Otisville's deputy sheriff left behind his four sons and a sixteen-year-old daughter. Four brothers would give anyone a skewed, or possibly a realistic, view of men’s shortcomings. The Jenkins brothers were a perfect example. Despite her tough-guy attitude, she had been gentle and compassionate about Tex. Her body wasn’t tough guy. Those soft curves were all woman and hot as hell.

  She had tried to spare him from going into the house. But he owed it to Tex, and now to his memory, to find the bastards who were exploiting their game. He needed to get his head screwed on straight and find the a-holes who had hurt his friend. The fight had become real personal.

  His phone buzzed. “What’s your problem, man?”

  “I’m not the one with the problem, asshole,” Nick growled. “You’re the one in deep shit.”

  Reeves laughed. Yeah, there was a big difference between the CIA work environment and Jenkins Security.

  “You have to tell Emily that you’re in danger.” Nick was in his Marine Captain command mode.

  “Damn it. Darcy shouldn’t have called Richard. You know, since the kidnapping, he is very paranoid. There is a risk but not enough to warrant this phone call. Darcy and I have to figure out what Tex was into before buying into a full conspiracy theory.”

  “Darcy didn’t call Richard. The CIA director did. And it’s now full-court press on protection detail. No way you’re escaping us close and personal.”

  “Very generous of you to offer, but I’m declining.”

  “What part don’t you get? You have no choice. It sucks what happened to your friend, but you need to talk to Emily.” Nick’s deep bass made everything he said sound like a threat.

  This was all Reeves’s fault. He had sent Nick to protect his sister when her life had been threatened. Now he had to deal with Nick in the middle of his family business.

  “There is no need for her to know. You know how much pressure she puts on herself during these tours.”

  Darcy had ended her call and walked toward him.

  “Oh, sure. You might get away with that kind of shit with a sister. But there is no way in hell that Emily doesn’t expect full disclosure from me about her brother’s safety. She’ll kick both our asses if we don’t tell her.”

  “Man, take a breath. I’ll reassure her that it’s all been exaggerated. Or she’ll want to cancel her performances.”

  “I’ll convince her not to.”

  “Good luck with that. You know how stubborn she can be. And if she decides I’m in any danger, she’ll want to come back to Seattle. And I don’t want her to give up the tour.”

  “Once I tell her that you have the Jenkins brothers protecting you twenty-four-seven, she’ll be fine. She has total faith in my abilities.”

  “What the fuck? What part do you not get? I don’t need you guys. I’ve got my own CIA agent.” Reeves waggled his eyebrows at Darcy, who was pretending to be busy on her phone but was tracking every word he uttered.

  “Yeah, and I hear that you want her all to yourself. According to Richard, you were struck speechless. Now that I would enjoy. You—unable to talk.”

  There was no way that Richard had said anything to Nick. He was trolling. God, he hated working with everyone trained in intelligence.

  “Shut up, or I’ll have to kick your ass.” Reeves enjoyed threatening the Marine Raider when there was not a chance that he could take him. Reeves had always trained to remain fit, and after his sister had been threatened, he had upped his game, increasing his stamina and strength and improving his shooting skills. But he’d never catch up with the Jenkinses, all Spec Forces guys with world-class training and years of experience in battle. But none of the guys were master of his cyberworld.

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  “Imagine what Emily would say if you hurt me. I’m her favorite brother.”

  “Are you talking to the head of Jenkins Security?” Darcy interrupted.

  “Yep. And he’s acting like an old lady.” Reeves hadn’t moved the phone to make sure Nick heard.

  “I need to speak with him.” Darcy opened her hand, expecting him to hand over his phone.

  “And why would you need that, sweetheart?”

  “Damn it, don’t call me sweetheart, and stop being an ass.” Her cheeks pinked.

  Nick’s laughter was loud enough for Darcy to hear. “Oh, I already like her. Let me talk with the officer, douchebag.”

  Reeves hit speaker and handed Darcy his phone.

  “Mr. Jenkins, I’ve just gotten off the phone with Director Marwick. He has spoken with Mr. Dean about the potential threat against Mr. Hewitt. I’m to coordinate with you on a protection plan to ensure Mr. Hewitt’s safety.”

  “What the hell? I’m not going into a safe house.” God, it was bad enough to have his world spinning out of control with the ransomware and now Tex’s murder and possibly Charlie’s. The last thing he needed was to have everyone hovering around him.

  “No one is saying that you need to go into a safe house … yet. As I was saying, Mr. Jenkins, at this point, I don’t believe the threat is imminent, but the director would like a backup plan in place if we needed to pivot quickly. You have my full cooperation.”

  Reeves watched Darcy’s lips pucker. He sighed a breath of relief. Darcy didn’t want the Jenkins agency involved any more than he did.

  She said, “Is there a way that you can procure me a weapon? Reeves, who I assume is licensed, has a Glock, but I’m without a firearm. My flight was last minute, and I couldn’t get clearance to bring my weapon on board.”

  “No problem, Ms. Wilson. Name it, and I can have it to you tomorrow.”

  “That’s impressive. I’m not sure I want to know.”

  “Nothing illegal. I’ve arranged for you to spend the night at the home of a friend of Sophie Dean. The actress isn’t in residence, but her house is highly secure and has a security team who will be able to procure your firearms.”

  “I’d like a Sig P226.”

  “I like a woman who knows what she needs. You have my permission to marry her, Reeves.”

  “You didn’t ask my permission to marry my sister.”

  Nick barked his amusement. “I informed you of my plans.”

  “Mr. Jenkins, is it with you that I coordinate Mr. Dean’s jet to fly us to Palo Alto in the morning? I need to be on-site here for at least several more hours. Reeves and I will need to check out Tex’s last residence and possible connections in Palo Alto. We might have to spend the night there. And it is best to be off the radar with our accommodations.”

  Reeves didn’t miss that Darcy hadn’t shared Tex’s message about Charlie’s death.

  “Please call me ‘Nick’ now that you’re going to be in the family.”

  Darcy rolled her eyes, her only response to men’s outrageousness. Probably how she coped with her brothers.

  Reeves had a much better way for her to cope. Now, if he could only convince her to participate.

  Chapter Six

  After their ID check at the front gate, the overbuilt, steroids-shooting guard had escorted Darcy and Reeves to Merissa Storm’s estate entrance. Darcy stood next to Reeves in the dramatic wood and slate entrance as Jonathan, the manservant in a fitted black suit and crisp white shirt with his blond hair slicked back, welcomed them. The smell of salty sea air and the crash of the waves in the open-air waterfront villa was surreal and unsettling after the grisly crime scene.

  As they all stood in front of the bank of monitors, Reeves grinned from ear to ear like a child on Christmas morning, listening to Jonathan’s description of the high-tech surveillance. This was the first genuine smile she had seen on Reeves’s face since their arrival in Ca
lifornia. And why did she find his absorption in surveillance technology endearing? His crazy mix of alpha male on the prowl and nerdy tech geek made it difficult to reconcile her forceful attraction. Damn him for not fitting into the box she had assigned to him. It was a whole lot easier when he was a suspect.

  If she thought there could be anything more between them than a few hookups, this was the moment when the gap in their worlds opened to earthquake proportions. Reeves accepted this outrageous opulence without a blink. Darcy’s comparable experience in luxury was a weeklong stay at a Four Seasons in Dubai when she was undercover as a banker to investigate a money-laundering ring. Otherwise, her only exposure to this level of affluence was from magazines or reality TV shows. It was as crystal clear as the infinity lap pool that there was no future between a cop’s daughter and the worldly man with connections to movie stars and billionaires.

  Sure, they had chemistry, but chemistry only got you so far. As she had learned at an early age, most men saw her as a target. Her red hair, big boobs, and curvy behind screamed “easy sex” to men, and Reeves was no different. She had seen how he stared at her chest.

  She completely checked out once the men became enraptured discussing encryption codes. Instead, she stared at Reeves’s profile. Dark stubble covered his strong chin, his hair was disheveled, and his full lips were the color of Afghan pomegranates. Somehow his rumpled look came off sexy instead of a gamer who never left his basement. He had the habit of rubbing his hand through his thick locks when he was engaged.

  “I’d like to walk the perimeter.” She didn’t like entrusting either her or Reeves’s safety to strangers who she hadn’t vetted or to a surveillance system that could be hacked.

  Both men stopped and stared at her as if she had unbuttoned her blouse and exposed herself.

  “It isn’t necessary. There are surveillance cameras and heat and motion sensors on every inch of the outside grounds.” Jonathan’s condescension quickly became grating.

  “The hundred-foot cliffs are a solid barrier to possible assault by sea.”

  The ocean side of the villa was all glass except for the supporting beams optimizing the view of the Pacific.

  “The windows are specially tinted to prevent the paparazzi from using helicopters to invade Ms. Storm’s privacy.”

  “I’m glad to hear that surveillance is in place, but I never rely solely on tech.” She smiled sweetly. She didn’t try to act impressed by Jonathan’s reassurances and didn’t care that she interrupted the men’s tech bonding.

  “I can disengage the system once Jonathan leaves so you can do your thing.” Reeves’s eyes lit up with amusement.

  Thank God, Reeves was a quick study and only needed a few minutes to master the system; otherwise, she might have hurt Jonathan if he didn’t stop talking. All she wanted was to get out of her wrinkled business suit and uncomfortable heels and into her runners and sweats.

  “I usually prepare dinner for Ms. Storm and her guests.”

  “Thank you, Jonathan, but Ms. Wilson is a gourmet cook and likes control of the kitchen. Plus, we’ve kept you later than usual.”

  Reeves’s face and voice never betrayed his big fat lie. She pressed her lips together to stop herself from laughing. Sure, she was a gourmet chef and a pro-basketball player. During travel, Darcy usually made do with nuts, protein bars, and a dark chocolate bar—or two or three—that she always had packed in her bag.

  “I’m that way myself. I hate interruptions when I’m creating.”

  She nodded at Jonathan, knowing he wouldn’t wait for a reply.

  “Since you’re a chef, you’ll appreciate the kitchen.”

  Reeves subtly widened his eyes. “I’m sure Ms. Wilson will be thrilled to hear about the details of the kitchen. Leave the tech talk to the men. Be warned. Once she gets started on her sauces, it’s a real snooze fest.”

  Reeves Hewitt was a dangerous man. There were loads of men with beautiful faces and bodies but not many with his twisted humor. Not many men could tease her and not get their asses kicked. Instead, she found his devilish grins and absurd comments seductive. She needed some distance. If only she had packed a bathing suit, she’d do laps safely in the water, protected from doing something really stupid.

  Reeves, with his bag swung over his shoulder, followed Jonathan into the kitchen.

  Reeves slowed his pace. Looking over his shoulder, he whispered conspiratorially out of Jonathan’s earshot. “Have you seen any of Merissa Storm’s movies?” And then there was the grin that Darcy couldn’t look away from. Reeves was a striking man in repose, but his hard angles eased when animated, and his coal-black eyes brightened from an inner fire.

  She found herself grinning back, leaning toward him and his diabolical enjoyment. Heat flooded her body, and her breath quickened at his closeness.

  Something must have shown in her eyes or in the flush stealing across her chest and neck.

  Reeves halted with an arrested look. “I feel the same way.” His voice took on a dark, edgy tone.

  She was weakening. So what if they had nothing in common? Who cared? She didn’t want to marry the guy. She had goals, aspirations, and a lot of adventures ahead. What would be wrong with two consenting adults offering each other comfort after the day they had experienced? And Reeves was the kind of man who would offer her comfort, not just impressive orgasms. He betrayed his kindness in the hours they were together. The way he spoke affectionately about his sister, his emotional reaction to his friend’s death, and the gentle way he had woken her on the plane. No one ever treated her carefully or tenderly as if she was important or fragile.

  She hadn’t had been in a relationship for a while. Now, it was mainly hookups with men like herself who needed to blow off steam from the dangerous work. The CIA pushed relationships amongst their employees. It made keeping your secret life less difficult if your husband was also an officer. She got together with a fellow officer. It lasted for almost four months, her longest relationship, when they were both in DC. Once she got her assignment to Senegal, she ended it. Her career came first.

  And there were no rules against fraternizing with Reeves. It wasn’t as if he was a suspect.

  She’d never admit it, but holding onto the idea that he was a suspect had been a flimsy excuse to protect herself.

  Jonathan, ignoring or oblivious to the sexual tension, showed her the induction cooktop, the blender for emulsions, and the liquid nitrogen tank. Who knew that you could cook with liquid nitrogen? The only use she knew was for creating explosions.

  She was enjoying giving Reeves death stares every time Jonathan looked away. Her heart fluttered like a teenage girl’s at the way Reeves’s lips twisted into the smallest smile.

  When Jonathan opened the refrigerator and freezer to show them how well-stocked it was, Darcy considered her escape options since she either had to knee Jonathan to shut him up or kiss Reeves. And neither were viable choices. But if she stood any longer in her high heels, she would detonate. As her brothers could attest, it was never a pretty sight when she lost control.

  “Since Ms. Storm might decide to fly up from LA on a whim, I have to be prepared.”

  Reeves’s heated glances weren’t helping her control. Neither was Jonathan’s demonstration of multiple machines to make coffee.

  “Thanks, Jonathan. I think we can figure out the basics.” Reeves slid his Glock into the kitchen drawer closest to the front door when Jonathan had his back to them. She would have liked to have the handgun in her possession. This was a compromise that she could live with. She didn’t have to take his gun since she was confident she’d be quicker in getting to it if she needed it.

  “We’ve had a long day and are ready to crash. What bedrooms are open?”

  Darcy’s glare should have scorched a burn on Reeves. It was one thing for her to consider tearing his clothes off and running her lips down his sculpted body, but it was another issue, a big fricking issue, for him to assume tonight was a done deal.

&nb
sp; “Please give Ms. Wilson an ocean view room. We want her to relax and enjoy the splendor of the Pacific. She’s had a trying day.”

  Shivers of excitement fused with apprehension that he could read her that well. She was the one trained to read people.

  “Is there any chance that there are extra bathing suits? I need a workout.” Her face burned crimson at her choice of words. “I have a lot of work tonight, and it would be great to swim as a break.”

  She scowled at Reeves before turning her attention to Jonathan.

  Jonathan inspected her with a professional, impersonal air. “Of course. And we have several suits that will fit you. If you give me your suitcase, I’ll unpack, turn down the bed, and lay out the suits for you.”

  Darcy hoped her mouth didn’t hang open. She had entered another universe where someone actually unpacked your suitcase. “Thank you, Jonathan, but that won’t be necessary.”

  She wasn’t comfortable about anything in this entire situation. Especially not with being stranded in an unplanned location with a man who made her think about sex instead of possible threats and a deadline to find the perpetrators. Where was Darcy Wilson, dedicated CIA officer? Give her a nice terrorist cell to infiltrate, and she was in her element. But a hot dude and a non-stop talking manservant who catered to any of your needs? Now, that was throwing her off her game.

  “Ms. Wilson is a very private person.” Reeves waggled his heavy brows. “And you never know what you might find in her suitcase.”

  Jonathan’s face hadn’t registered any change. He was the classic unflappable butler from old movies.

  “Ms. Wilson, if you follow me, I’ll show you the bedroom and your choices in suits.”