The Reunion Mission: The Reunion MissionTall Dark Defender

by Beth Cornelison

  The Cajun clearly read her dilemma, and with his superior strength, pried himself out of her grip. “Leave me, damn it! Run!”

  Emotion clogged Nicole’s throat, but she choked out, “Promise you’ll follow.” He jerked a nod that didn’t quite convince her, but the hail of bullets seemed to be closing in. She stuck her face in the Cajun’s and shouted, “I’ll bring Alec back for you.”

  “No!” he yelled as she turned to run.

  Moisture not only blurred her vision, but in the hot jungle, her night vision goggles steamed up. Giving up on the goggles, she yanked them off and tossed them behind her as she plowed forward. The first thin rays of morning sun filtered through the jungle canopy, and with the watery light as a guide, she rushed toward what appeared to be a clearing ahead. The whir of a motor reached her over the pounding of her pulse and the pop of gunfire.

  Please God, let that engine be Alec with the helicopter.

  “Alec!” Screaming for his help took almost more breath than she had left. Surely he’d heard the gunfire. Where was—?

  A hand grabbed her arm and swung her into the thick vegetation. She swallowed her gasp, recognizing the tall, dark-haired man still wearing his night vision goggles. “Alec!”

  He shoved her behind him. “Keep your head down!” Leaning against a tree branch with an automatic weapon propped on his shoulder, Alec fired into the trees. “Jake’s got the chopper ready. That way!” He freed a hand long enough to push her toward the clearing.

  She jerked away. “Where’s Tia?”

  “On the chopper with Jake.”

  She nodded in relief, then gasped, “Your partner was shot. We have to go back for him!” She started back the way she’d come, trusting Alec would follow.

  “Nicole, wait!” He grabbed at her retreating back, but because she’d shed her shirt, he came up empty-handed. “Nicole!”

  “Hurry!” She didn’t wait. Desperate to reach the Cajun, she pumped her legs, knocking palm fronds out of her way with her arm, retracing her steps, using tree trunks for cover and the thick foliage to camouflage her progress. The sun was slightly higher now. Shadowy forms separated from the thin gray light that seeped through the jungle ceiling. Terror coiled around her like a python, squeezing her chest, but she forcefully battled the fear down. She had to keep it together. Not just for her own sake, but for Tia. For Alec and for the Cajun who, even though he hated her for some unknown offense, had risked his life, taken a bullet in his leg, saving her.

  Alec, moving so silently she didn’t hear him until he was upon her, pressed close behind Nicole, his automatic weapon at the ready.

  The snipers’ fire had slacked off, although she still saw an occasional muzzle flash in the upper branches followed by the chilling thud of a bullet hitting the ground.

  “Go back to the chopper. I’ll find him,” Alec growled.

  They’d only gotten half of the way back to where she’d left the Cajun, and something deep inside her wouldn’t let her leave the jungle without him. She’d opened her mouth to argue, when one of the dark shadows moved with a lurch and a groan.

  Nicole’s heart stutter-stepped in admiration and compassion. Despite the obvious pain he was in, the Cajun was struggling toward their extraction point. As he neared, she made out the branch he used as a crutch while he dragged his bloodied leg behind him. He’d taken off his goggles as she had, and no longer had his backpack. Everything in his body language, from his rigidly set jaw, taut mouth, fisted hands and forward canting body as he staggered through the jungle exuded a sheer grit and steely determination. This man was a warrior. A fighter. A survivor.

  Your father tried to kill me.

  Nicole shook her head to clear the baffling accusation from her thoughts. She’d have time to work through the Cajun’s assertions later. Right now, they had to get back to the helicopter.

  She hurried toward him with Alec on her heels. Hearing them, Cajun jerked his head up, along with his gun.

  She inhaled sharply. “Don’t shoot. It’s us.”

  He blew out a harsh breath. “Damn it, Nicole! I told you not to—”

  “I know what you said,” she countered, as Alec wedged himself under his partner’s left arm, and Nicole moved to his right side. “I chose to ignore your orders. I knew and accepted the risk of helping you.” She tensed her legs as he shifted some of his weight onto her and limped forward a couple steps. She angled a quick glance at his grimacing face and couldn’t resist adding, “I figure it evens the score between you and me.”

  He stiffened. Whipped a startled look toward her. The thin dappled light still cast his face in shadow, but she felt the intensity of his glare. Without commenting, he hobbled forward. “Faster. I can take it.”

  “But you’re—” The rat-a-tat of an automatic weapon echoed through the jungle behind them, getting closer.

  “Don’t baby me,” he snarled. “Let’s move!”

  Holding tightly to his arm, his waist, Nicole half jogged, half staggered as she and Alec all but dragged the Cajun. He screamed in pain but demanded they keep up their pace. By the time they reached the clearing where the chopper waited, her legs were jelly, and her arm muscles quivered. As they left the line of trees, Alec shoved his weapon at her and hoisted his partner over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Cover us!”

  Nicole gaped at the automatic weapon in her hands and shuddered. She’d only seen guns like this one fired. Had never held, much less fired, one.

  But a new hail of bullets peppered the clearing as Alec ran for the chopper door with the Cajun across his back. Nicole swung the big gun up and fired toward the muzzle flashes in the jungle. Spinning on her heel, she darted across the open field, praying that everything she’d heard about moving targets was true. She kept her eyes fixed on the open door of the helicopter. Inside, she could see Tia in her pink shorts, huddled with her hands over her ears.

  Alec dumped his partner unceremoniously on the floor of the chopper, then ran to the copilot’s seat, yelling to the pilot, “Take off, cowboy!”

  Panting for breath, Nicole dove into the open side of the chopper. The instant she was aboard, the helicopter lurched off the ground. Her stomach pitched as they ascended and swooped over the treetops. Dropping the weapon in her hands as if it were a rattlesnake, Nicole gasped for air and took a mental survey. She was in one piece, even though nicks and cuts on her arms and legs trickled blood.

  And Tia was safe—even if the gunfire and tumult had clearly revived whatever nightmare she’d survived earlier. Nicole scuttled awkwardly across the rocking helicopter floor until she reached the frightened child.

  With a whimper, Tia wrapped her arms around Nicole and buried her face on her shoulder. Tia’s warm tears dripped onto Nicole’s skin, reminding her that she’d sacrificed her shirt to the Cajun’s knee, so she wore only a bra. She closed her eyes and sighed, unable to find the energy to care. Modesty seemed a ludicrous indulgence in light of the situation.

  “Nicole...” The strangled-sounding voice was almost lost in the roar of the helicopter turbines.

  She raised her head to meet the Cajun’s gaze. His dark eyes were wild with agony, and his face contorted in misery when the chopper hit an air pocket, jostling him. She hated seeing him suffer, no matter what vile allegations he’d leveled against her father. Whatever his reasons, his agenda, he had saved her—and Tia—from that cesspool prison camp.

  “Ni-cole,” he repeated and held a hand out, summoning her to come closer.

  Giving Tia a reassuring smile, she untangled herself from the child’s grip and moved to his side.

  Nicole grasped his hand with one of hers and stroked his stubble-covered face with her other hand, wishing she could do something, anything to ease his pain. At that moment, the morning sun broke over the tops of the trees and shone through the open side door of the helicopter, casting his rugged face in sharp relief. For the first time, she could truly see the man who’d risked his life for her. Even with heavy black stubble covering
his jaw, mud smudged on his cheeks and his features drawn in a grimace of pain, her Cajun rescuer was a devastatingly handsome man. Her heart clenched, and the prickle of déjà vu returned. He seemed so familiar….

  “I...need—” He stopped, clenching his teeth and growling in torment. “Please...I need—”

  Tears puddled in her eyes. “What do you need? Tell me.”

  She had no idea what medical supplies, painkillers or other provisions the helicopter had, but she’d move heaven and earth to get him the best care when they were back in the States.

  He drew a couple shallow breaths, his jaw tightening again. “I need to know...you remember.” He swallowed hard, his eyes drilling into hers. “Tell me...you remember.”

  His request, and the obvious emotional distress behind it, rattled her. Witnessing his physical pain was hard enough. She opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but the tortured plea in his eyes stole her breath and her resolve.

  “I remember,” she lied, leaning closer to be sure he heard her.

  He held her gaze for a moment, sweat beading on his forehead and expectant hope lighting his gaze. Then he scowled darkly and jerked his gaze away. He ground his back teeth together and scrunched his face in agony.

  With lightning speed, he seized the back of her head and wound his fingers in her hair so tightly her scalp prickled. She gasped, as he pulled her down so that her face hovered right above his. “Then say my name!”

  She stared at him, stunned by his vehemence and trying to reconcile the nagging intuition she’d had since he’d kissed her at the camp that something didn’t add up. The niggling familiarity of his voice. Her body’s response to his touch.

  “Say my name, Nicole,” he repeated, raggedly this time. “I want to hear you say it.”

  And in a heartbeat, an echo from her past yanked her back five years to a hotel room in New Orleans. Her heart wrenched, and tears spilled from her eyes.

  “Oh, my God!” She curled her fingers into the hair at his nape and buried her face in his neck. “Daniel...”

  * * *

  Five years earlier

  “What do you think?” Nicole asked as she struck a pose wearing Daniel’s uniform hat. Only his uniform hat. “Could I be in the Navy?”

  From the hotel bed, Daniel stacked his hands behind his head, a move that emphasized the broad cut of his bare shoulders and the muscle definition in his arms. He sent her a seductive grin. “What I think is that I’ll never wear my dress whites again without thinking how much better they look on you.”

  Nicole dropped her pose and crawled across the bed to him, letting her fingers walk up his chest. “Personally, as hot as you look in your dress whites, I have to say I like you out of them even more.”

  She flashed him a wicked grin, earning a playful pat on her fanny before he captured her head with his hand and dragged her close for a hot kiss. Despite having made love to him four times already in the past few hours, the heat of his mouth on hers, the stroke of his fingers along her thigh sent a thrill through her blood and made her body quiver in anticipation of another mind-blowing climax. She’d never, in her limited experience, known a man who could so thoroughly and continually elicit such a powerful and carnal response from her. He’d explored every inch of her body and unerringly found and finessed erogenous zones she’d never known she had.

  Breathless, she plucked a condom from the bedside stand and ripped it open. “What do you say, Boudreaux? Are you ready for me?”

  Holding her gaze, he took the prophylactic from her and covered himself. “Now I am.”

  In a deft move, he kicked the sheet off his feet and flipped her to her back. She gasped, then laughed as he straddled her, pinning her arms over her head with one hand and running one finger along the side of her midriff. She squirmed, trying to get away from the teasing touch. “Stop,” she said, giggling, “I told you I’m ticklish.”

  He arched a sexy black eyebrow, and his dark brown gaze burrowed into her. “And I told you what would happen if you called me Boudreaux again.”

  She squealed in mirth as he lightly trailed his fingers over her most sensitive spots. “Stop!”

  He traced the curve of her hip and down her leg. “What’s my name?”

  “Boudreaux!”

  He shook his head and tickled his way past her naval, then circled her nipples with one finger. “Say my name. My real name.”

  She chuckled, flashed a saucy grin. “Afraid I’ve forgotten it?”

  His head cocked to one side. “Have you?”

  “No.”

  “Prove it.” He tweaked the tip of her breast and shifted his weight so that his erection nudged between her legs.

  Just the promise of what was to come coiled desire in her womb and chased the teasing grin from her lips. The fiery sensations crackling through her were no laughing matter. She wanted him inside her with an urgency that was primal and overwhelming. She angled her hips, straining toward him. “Please...”

  Even when she wrapped her legs around him and arched her back, he waited.

  “Say my name.” His tone held no humor, and his eyes shone with a hunger and passion that stirred a tremor deep in her core. He brushed a kiss across her lips and nuzzled her cheek. “I want to hear my name on your lips when I’m inside you.”

  The sensual rasp of his voice stroked her, wound her anticipation tighter, while the poignant intimacy of his request seized her heart. She threaded her fingers through his hair and raised her lips to his ear. “Daniel. Daniel LeCroix...”

  * * *

  Nicole whispered his name, rolling the R in a sensual purr that vibrated through him and stoked the need that pounded through his veins. His body thrumming, he drew a ragged breath and buried himself inside her. “Ah, Nicole...cher...”

  A sexy gasp caught in her throat, and she moaned as he filled her. Her body gripped his, and a protectiveness, an overwhelming need to possess her, drove him to hold her closer, thrust deeper, take her higher. When they’d made love the first time, he’d thought he could get his fill of her and satisfy the fascination with her that had begun on her prom night years ago. Instead he found the more they made love, the more he wanted her and the more he lost his heart to her.

  With a mewling cry, Nicole bowed her back and shuddered as she peaked. “Daniel!”

  The first pulse of her body milking him shattered his restraint, and primal noises rumbled from his throat as he followed her into a mind-numbing climax.

  When the maelstrom passed and the sensual haze began to lift, he knew he was in trouble. His caring this much about her gave Nicole power over him. Rather than getting her out of his head, she’d found a way past his defenses and into his heart.

  He tried to move away from her, needing distance to clear his head, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and tucked her body against his. “Hold me, Daniel. Please, hold me.”

  And he did. Until they fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. Until the first light of morning peeked through the gap in the curtains and prodded him awake.

  Until her cell phone chimed on the dresser, and she rolled out of bed to answer it.

  He flopped onto his back and watched her through his eyelashes as she, in all her naked glory, stumbled groggily across the room. The sight of her smooth skin and sultry curves sent a fresh rush of desire thundering through him.

  Nicole plucked her cell phone from the dresser and checked the screen. Her shoulders sagged, and she groaned before she thumbed the answer button. “Hi, Dad.”

  Daniel tensed.

  “Yes, I was still asleep. Why?” She gasped, and her back stiffened. “Oh, no. I completely forgot. I’m so sorry.” She sent a quick glance to their bed and winced. “Yeah, I know how important it is to you.”

  He propped on one elbow, watching her, and she mouthed, Sorry. Then turning, she headed into the bathroom. “I’m getting in the shower now. I’ll meet you there.”

  Disappointment plucked at him. He’d hoped they could at least sh
are breakfast before they parted ways.

  He heard her turn on the shower and flopped back against the pillow with a sigh. Tossing back the covers, he climbed out of bed and strolled to the door of the bathroom to ask her if she wanted him to order room service. But the door was locked.

  Frowning, he raised his hand to knock.

  “Yes, I did spend the night with that guy from the bayou,” she said, her voice haughty, her tone dripping disdain. “In fact, I had sex with him. Many times.”

  The taunting tone of her voice sent a chill through him. He lowered his hand and listened with his heart in his throat.

  “I’m perfectly clear on your feelings about him,” she scoffed, and he heard a thump. “Maybe that’s the point.”

  A sinking sensation knotted in his chest as he saw last night through a new lens. The smug grin she’d given her father when she’d introduced him as her date for the rest of the night. Her repeated use of the Boudreaux moniker. The dark suspicious looks her father had given him.

  His sense of being caught in the middle of a family feud had been more on target than he’d realized.

  “Because I could, Dad. I can sleep with a Cajun or a frat boy or the whole naval fleet if I feel like it. I’m not a little girl anymore. You can’t dictate my life.”

  Daniel staggered back a step from the door as if pushed, as if kicked in the gut. Blindsided. Sucker punched. Deceived.

  Had last night been nothing but a rebellion against her father? A walk on the wrong side of the tracks so she could flout her father’s ideals?

  “Who says there’ll be a next time?” she said. “Maybe I’m ready to go back to Houston and finish my nursing degree! It’s exactly what Mom would have wanted!”

  As her argument with her father grew more heated, Daniel raked a hand through his hair and battled down the bitter hurt and anger that roiled inside him.

  She’d used him. She’d seen an opportunity to hook a man her father saw as unworthy and dangle her tryst in the senator’s face. A sharp ache of betrayal raked through his chest, and he snatched his pants and dress jacket from the closet.