The Reunion Mission: The Reunion MissionTall Dark Defender

by Beth Cornelison

  For the first time in days, she saw a vibrance and...life in his expression that had been missing since he’d woken up in the hospital. Here at his grandmother’s home by the bayou, he was in his element. More than that, teaching Pilar to fish, seeing the girl’s joy, clearly fed his soul. Though he’d never admit it to her, she could imagine how his injury and the loss of his job with the black ops team had bruised his ego and his sense of purpose. For an alpha male control freak like Daniel, those blows had to have been crushing.

  Still holding her gaze, his wide chest so close that he brushed against her when she took a deep breath for composure, he asked, “You know how to make hush puppies and slaw?”

  Sarah Beth made the best hush puppies Nicole had ever put in her mouth. Maybe she could call her father’s housekeeper for help. “I can try.”

  Daniel arched a skeptical eyebrow, then shrugged. “Then I’ll take care of the fish. Cleaning. Seasoning. Frying. Deal?”

  She twitched a grin. “You’re on.”

  With a satisfied nod, he moved away, and Nicole felt the loss to her marrow. Like losing her bedcovers on a winter night, she felt a cool emptiness course through her.

  “You okay with her helping me clean the fish?” he asked, taking the string of fish from Pilar.

  Nicole frowned. “I’ll leave it up to her if she wants to watch, but I don’t like the idea of her using a knife.”

  Daniel glanced toward the bayou before facing Nicole again. “I was her age when mon père learned me how to cut up la barbue.”

  Nicole folded her arms over her chest and gave Daniel a measuring scrutiny. Had his thick Cajun accent, mixed Louisiana French and English, and blatant use of a common, though grammatically incorrect, Southernism been for her benefit? With a prickle of uneasiness, she recalled his earlier accusation that she held a negative bias against Cajuns. On the contrary, she admired the resilience, traditions and sense of community in the Cajun population. She envied Daniel the unconditional love and support he’d had from his family, while she’d struggled to win her father’s approval or five undistracted minutes of his time.

  She raised her chin and kept her tone neutral. “I’m sure your father taught you well, but you asked if I was okay with Pilar cleaning fish. And I’m not. You do the cutting, okay?”

  Pilar watched them with wide, inquisitive eyes, and Daniel gave her an oh-well glance and a shrug, before starting toward the side yard. “How do you say ‘worrywart’ in Spanish?”

  Dividing a look between Daniel and Nicole, Pilar bit her lip, clearly undecided about who to stay with, then scurried after Daniel like a puppy. Nicole couldn’t blame her. Given the chance, she’d spend every minute she could with Daniel, too. Especially the kind, smiling version of himself that he showed Pilar.

  Nicole turned to go inside, wondering how long they’d be in hiding here with Daniel. And more important, what would happen once Daniel felt they were safe? Would he disappear from her life again without a word? Would he give their relationship a second chance?

  Back in the kitchen, she began searching the groceries Jake had brought in, pulling out the ingredients to make hush puppies, but her mind dwelled on the one question that seemed at the root of everything with Daniel. What had happened five years ago that changed his feelings for her and made him leave without a goodbye?

  For her sanity’s sake, she had to find out, had to get the truth. Tonight.

  Chapter 9

  Nicole quietly closed the door to the room she shared with Pilar and tiptoed back to the living room. “Well, I don’t think we’ll be hearing anything from her until morning. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.”

  Daniel paced across the room, using only one crutch for support, then turned and walked back the direction he came. “Wore herself out running around the yard today.”

  Nicole watched him retrace his steps with a knit in her brow. “I’ll say. After being cooped up in that cage in Colombia, I can’t blame her for wanting to run herself ragged.” She stopped behind the couch and propped her hip on the back of the sofa. “Speaking of which, what are you doing? Shouldn’t you be resting your knee?”

  “Not if I want to walk without a crutch again. Physical therapist in the hospital told me to use my knee, not let it get stiff. Put more weight on it every day.”

  Nicole sent him a worried frown. “Does it hurt?”

  “Not as much as it used to.”

  She watched him stalk back and forth, clearly making progress in his recovery, but a far cry from the agile special ops agent who’d stolen through the jungle to rescue her. Did he hold his injury against her? Was that why he seemed so angry with her most of the time?

  She wiped a sweaty palm on the seat of her blue jeans and looked for an opening to hash out his grievances. Knowing he wouldn’t appreciate her dancing around the issue, she squared her shoulders and dove in head first. “Tell me what happened that morning at the hotel. Why did you leave? What did I do?”

  Daniel stopped midstride and whipped his head toward her.

  “And don’t say I already know,” she said, aiming a finger at him. “Because I don’t. I’ve never understood why you left, why you never called or answered my messages.”

  He sighed heavily and scowled. Cursed under his breath. “Do we have to talk about this?”

  She tamped down her rising frustration. “Yes, we do. Because I deserve answers.” She tapped her chest with her finger, fighting the hurt that swelled in her chest, still as sharp and ruthless as that morning years ago. “I deserve to know why you broke my heart, why you abandoned me. Why you stayed away for so long.”

  Daniel closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, making the muscle in his square jaw jump. With a harsh exhale, he met her gaze evenly. “I heard everything you told your father.”

  The mention of her father hiked her frustration level up a notch. She didn’t want to beat that drum again.

  “Daniel, I—” But she hesitated, catching her protest before it escaped her lips.

  His expression didn’t have that shuttered quality it had had in the past when she broached this topic. The wall that said he was shutting her out. She thought back to that morning, replaying the details.

  She’d awakened in Daniel’s arms, exchanged sleepy good-morning smiles and a languorous kiss...and rolled out of bed to answer her cell phone. Her father had been looking for her, wondering why she was late for a political brunch.

  Nicole’s gut clenched as she struggled to recall exactly what had been said in that conversation. She’d still been angry with her father for his blind disregard for her feelings, his manipulation and dictatorial attitude toward her life. Because of the deeply personal issues between her and her father and so that Daniel could sleep if he wanted, she’d taken the phone in the bathroom and prepared to shower. And not seen Daniel again until he appeared from the dark of night in the Colombian prison camp.

  She spread her hands and shook her head, at a loss. “I remember taking his call, but...I can’t remember what I said that—”

  He scoffed. “Of course you don’t. Because it meant nothing to you. It was no big deal.”

  She bristled at his bitter tone. “I argued with my father. I remember that. And that argument was not nothing to me. It changed everything. You changed everything for me.”

  He snorted his disbelief.

  She drew a steadying breath, not wanting to let the discussion evolve into another fruitless shouting match. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t recall any specific thing I said that you would interpret as offensive.”

  His obsidian eyes drilled into hers. “You flaunted the fact that you’d slept with ‘that guy from the bayou.’ You told him you knew his feelings about me and that was the point.” Anger and hurt washed over his face, disproportionate to the comments he quoted.

  “But what—?”

  “There was more. But that’s the gist.” His entire body was tense, vibrating with pent-up emotions.

  “And that upset yo
u?” She shook her head, confused. “I don’t get it.”

  He bit out another sour curse. “It was the way you said it, Nicole. I heard the meaning behind what you said.” A husky rasp thickened his tone, and he jerked his gaze away, visibly steeling himself, grappling for control over his pain and fury.

  Nicole held her breath, waiting as he shifted his weight uneasily.

  When he raised his gaze to hers again, shadows flickered over his face and a storm brewed in his eyes. “You used me, Nicole. You used me, because I represented the worst-case scenario to your father. It wasn’t bad enough that you had a night of indiscretion, but I was bayou scum.”

  Nicole gasped, stunned silent by his accusation. The depth of his pain and anger toward her stole her breath, gnawed her soul. How could he have believed such things about her after the intimacy they’d shared the night before?

  Color rose in Daniel’s cheeks as he growled, “You couldn’t wait to rub your walk on the wild side in Daddy’s face. You practically chortled with glee as you told him how we’d done the nasty, repeating for him that I was a Cajun, so that he wouldn’t miss just how low you’d sunk in your scandalous rebellion. You didn’t give him a name, because who I was didn’t matter. Only what I was.”

  “That’s not true,” she whispered, her voice choked with dismay.

  He curled his lip in a snarl. “I was the butt of the joke you pulled on Senator Daddy.”

  She shook her head, reeling, stung by his accusations. “No. You’re wrong.”

  “Am I? You didn’t sleep with me to prove a point to your father?”

  Her stomach lurched. She had been making a statement to her father. Just not the one Daniel believed. “You misunderstood. I didn’t think of you that way. I’m not a bigot.”

  His glare was skeptical.

  She sighed. “Yes, I was mad at my father, and I flaunted our night together to make a statement, but I cared about you. I wanted to see you again, if—”

  “The facts say otherwise.” His tone was cold. The bitter anger that rolled off him left her trembling and sick inside.

  “What facts? You didn’t give me a chance to explain! You left the hotel without telling me where you were going, where I could reach you, how I could—”

  “You knew where I was. And you made sure I didn’t stay there long enough to cause trouble. You and Daddy certainly arranged for me to be transferred out of state fast enough.”

  Nicole blinked her confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He scoffed and sent her an impatient frown. “You sure about that? Why else would I get singled out for an exclusive black ops program less than twenty-four hours after sleeping with you? Your father’s fingerprints were all over that transfer.”

  Nicole recalled her father’s earlier comment about Daniel leaving town after the night they’d spent together. A prickle raced down her back. “Maybe my father’s, but not mine. I was heartbroken that you’d left.” Her voice cracked, and she paused to clear her throat, swallow the knot of frustration and disappointment choking her. “I called the Naval base looking for you and kept running into dead ends. I left messages….”

  Daniel’s gaze narrowed. “You didn’t know about the transfer?”

  She battled the tears that burned her sinuses. “I swear I didn’t. Not until now.”

  He turned, shaking his head in denial and lifting a disgusted look to the ceiling.

  “I never knew where you went,” she persisted, “or what happened to you until you rescued me from Colombia.” As soon as the words left her mouth, a whole new flood of questions washed through her alreadyspinning thoughts. Her knees buckled, and she braced an arm on the back of the couch to keep from crumpling to the floor. “All this time...you’ve hated me.”

  Daniel jerked his chin down and swung a stunned gaze toward her.

  Her mouth dried. “You’ve believed such terrible things….” Her thoughts shifted again, scrambling to keep up as she saw the past five years from a fresh, startling perspective. “But...if you hate me so much, why...” A tremble started in her core, spreading until her entire body shook. “Why did you risk your life to save me? Wh—why are you here now? What’s your game?”

  An unfathomable expression of shock darkened his face. The tension coiled in him was a palpable vibration that charged the air. “You think I hate you? Are you insane?”

  “You said—”

  Daniel threw his crutch aside with a clatter and closed the distance between them in two stiff strides. Trapping her between the back of the couch and his large body, he captured her head between his hands, his fingers digging into her scalp. Nicole’s heart lurched at the flash of heat that blazed in his eyes as his mouth crashed down on hers so hard and fast their teeth clicked and she bit her tongue.

  She, in turn, curled her fingers in his hair and returned his frantic kiss with her own desperate need. A thrum of desire surged through her veins, hot and fast. A rumble of satisfaction rose from her throat, and Daniel slid a hand to the base of her back to pull her closer. She tasted blood from her cut tongue but didn’t care. She’d waited too long for this, dreamed of having Daniel back in her arms. The kiss was rough, untamed, but his mouth felt right against hers. Preordained.

  When Daniel finally tore his mouth from hers, his breathing was ragged, as if he’d just run a long distance. He still held her nape with a firm grip, and his eyes blazed with a dark, dangerous fire.

  “I got you out of Colombia,” he said in a low growl, “because the thought of you being in the hands of those rebel bastards made me crazy. Knowing they could be starving you, hurting you, touching you haunted me. Made me sick.”

  Nicole raised her hands to stroke his taut jaw. “Oh, Daniel...”

  “I have tried every day for the last sixty-three months to get you out of my head. Wanting you is a physical ache I live with every minute of every hour.”

  Nicole’s heart tripped, and her eyes filled with tears. As romantic as Daniel’s words were, his expression and his tone reflected misery and frustration rather than rapturous love. The incongruity twisted in her chest.

  “I can’t erase the memory of how you felt beneath me, how sweet your hair smelled, how warm your kiss tasted, how erotic your moans were when I pushed inside you.”

  She caught her breath, recalling that earth-shaking moment. Feeling the proof of his current arousal pressed against her belly, her body pulsed with the same anticipation and heat as the night they’d made love.

  He sucked in a shallow breath, his eyes fierce. “I wish to God I could hate you, Nicole. Maybe then I could break this hold you have on me. Maybe then I could stop wanting you and missing you so much I hurt.” His voice dipped to a whisper. “Maybe then I could move past the betrayal I felt that morning, hearing you tell your father I’d only been the lowly means to your rebellious end.”

  When he tried to step back, she grabbed his shirt in her fists and met his gaze with a determined stare of her own. “I never said that. Whatever you thought you heard, you were wrong. I’ve never thought of you as anything but heroic and thoughtful and maddeningly sexy.”

  He frowned and turned his head, but she grabbed his chin and dragged his face, his gaze back to hers.

  “Listen to me, Daniel. You stole my heart that night in New Orleans.” Her voice cracked, but she forged on. “And you broke it the next morning when you left me.”

  His mouth tightened, and his brow furrowed, as if hearing this truth pained him. She plowed her hands into his hair, pulling him closer. “I felt betrayed that morning, too. But it didn’t change my feelings for you. You’re not the only one who couldn’t forget. Except I’m glad you were in my head all those months.”

  He squeezed his eyes closed, clearly trying to shut her out. Giving him a firm shake, she waited until his gaze met hers again before she continued. Tears dripped onto her cheeks and strangled her voice, but she needed him to hear her out. “My memories of you kept me sane while I was caged like an animal
in that godforsaken prison camp. I clung to the hope that I’d survive and see you again. Hold you again. Make love to you again.”

  He stiffened, his expression tormented. He seized hold of her, framing her face with his hands. “Damn it, Nicole….”

  Her gaze drilled his. She was determined to make him understand how she truly felt. “I wasn’t entirely surprised to see you when you rescued me, because deep inside, I knew you’d come. I’d prayed you’d come for me. And I—”

  “Stop!” he rasped, his eyes suspiciously bright. Beneath her hand, his heart thundered, hard and fast.

  Drawing a ragged breath, she licked her tears from the corner of her mouth. Daniel’s eyes tracked the path of her tongue, and with a groan, he captured her lips again. His kiss was gentler this time, but no less needy, no less toe-curlingly seductive.

  Nicole wrapped her arms around his neck, and he angled his head to deepen the kiss. When he drew harder on her mouth, she responded with equal fervor. When he backed off and soothed her lips with tender kisses, she sighed at the sweetness of his caress. When he searched with his tongue, she met him, stroke for stroke. Tangling, teasing, savoring...

  Nicole tugged his T-shirt out of her way, eager to feel the heat of his skin, feel taut muscle and sinew. Soon he’d slipped a hand under her shirt, and his fingers closed over her breast. His palm abraded her beaded nipple through the thin satin of her bra, and the rush of sensation that washed through her stirred a moan from her throat. Without thinking, she hooked one leg around his hip, straining to feel him closer, hating the clothing barrier between them.

  “Mon Dieu!” he rasped, and remembering his hurt knee, she panicked briefly that she’d hurt him somehow. But those thoughts fled as he cupped her bottom, lifted her and tumbled with her over the back of the sofa and onto the cushions.

  He stretched across her, his weight pressing her into the soft couch, their bodies aligned so that there was no mistaking his desire for her. She wrapped her legs around his, canting her hips forward to rub against his steely length. His breath hissed through his teeth, and with shaking hands, he shoved her shirt and bra up and off of her. With hot, obsidian eyes, he drank in the sight of her, then laved the peak of each breast with his tongue, molded them with his fingers.