Her head was dropped, and her left hand was holding onto her back.
She shook her head. “Just give me a minute—my back went into a spasm. It hurts like a son of a gun.”
She had gone ghost white.
She took a shallow, ragged breath. “It’s fading. I must have tweaked it when I did the face-plant. God, I need Luna.”
“Who’s Luna? Is this the spot?” Lars rubbed her lower back, spreading his hands over the curve in her spine. She was so lean that his hands covered her entire lower back. Avoiding going south like the gentleman he could be, he rubbed in gentle circles, careful not to ignite another spasm.
She nodded, her white teeth nibbling on her lower lip. During the fall, she’d tried to right herself. Her body had contorted with her weight thrown forward against the cement. She was tall to start with, and then the damn boots had thrown off her center of gravity.
“Does your neck hurt?” Of course, all her muscles were tight. He slowly inched upward, rubbing her shoulders.
“How can I possibly tell? I’ve taken pills twice now. Before the hydrocodone, I had a killer headache. Honestly…” She looked up at him in the mirror. “Everything hurts.”
Lars had never wanted anyone not to suffer like he did at this moment. Her open, honest look struck deep. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t able to get to you before you fell.”
“It wasn’t your fault. But I would die—what a terrible expression.” She giggled.
No wonder she was allowing him to touch her and not firing off snarky comments at him. She was hitting the peak of her drug. Danni without hydrocodone would never admit any feelings to him.
“What I meant…” She giggled again. “I was about to say I’d kill for a massage by Luna. She’s the girlfriend of Silas, the drummer. She started as the band’s massage therapist but then hooked up first with Roland when Alex took a fall onstage. She travels with the band and provides massages for everyone. She’s really helpful for my back when it acts up.”
“Those mile-high heels—not a normal posture, even if they’re sexy as hell.”
She looked up into the mirror, and just for a moment, their eyes locked, and the heat that was always simmering between them flared. She immediately averted her gaze.
“Okay, I’m fine. You can stop the massage now. How about several washcloths? And a change of clothes? I never want to see this outfit again.”
Relieved to have a role, he focused on his job instead of getting off on touching her. His pulse was in combat zone, ready for action. He turned to the shelves behind them, filled with perfectly stacked plush towels and washcloths. He grabbed a pair of each.
“While you take care of business, I’ll check out the closets to see what I can find for you to wear. I know from experience you’re going to need something you can easily slip on and off.”
Lars ignored the way Danni leaned forward, thrusting her hips high to get a better look at her forehead in the mirror. Danni in that position had been one of his many fantasies, but with her in pain, he couldn’t go there. He had never felt this combination of lust and tenderness before. Never. He was on unfamiliar ground. And, damn it, he didn’t like it one bit.
Chapter Twelve
The heat of Lars’s broad chest warmed Danni as he carried her from the bathroom. She was lightheaded from the drugs, nothing to do with his hot arms or hot body enveloping her in a cocoon of safety. She wanted to just float in the warm sensation, like a current in a slow-moving stream, allowing her worries to float away.
She surprised herself by how much she liked his caveman act. The drugs were affecting her cognitive function—breaking down all of her defenses against him, which wasn’t a good thing. But who could blame her for needing a little comfort after what she suffered? The memory of his tender kiss, the softness of his lips, was embedded in her brain.
She’d screwed up, and now she was trapped…with Lars. She had to be impaired since she couldn’t think of one reason to object to Lars taking over and canceling her plans.
She now was toxic to anyone she knew. She would never endanger her friends. She had to distance herself from everyone, including Alex and her investigation. She didn’t want to stop her search for the stalker. She had to find the connection between the stalker, the T-shirt store, and the cartel.
She was stuck for the next day or two until her ankle improved, and then she could leave, or she might lose her resolve. She hated that she was responding to Lars’s fiery closeness, his male musky, spicy scent, and his tender touch. She needed to remind herself why she didn’t want to be involved with a serial womanizer who had the power to break her heart.
She gave her standard self-talk to remind herself that he was only interested in the game, only interested in “pursuing their smoldering connection.” It wasn’t difficult for someone adept at reading men’s intentions to read the subtext by the way and amount of time Lars spent watching her. Sex was all he wanted. Jordan and Sophie had been very clear that Lars had never had a serious relationship in all the years they’d known him.
She examined his angular face. She could reach up and bring his mouth to hers and… She really needed to get off the pain meds and back to Seattle. Except his blue eyes right now were the bright color of a cloudless summer sky in Seattle. She had discovered that the color of his enigmatic eyes changed with his moods. When he had returned to the room after his phone calls, he was in his commando mode, his eyes the dark steel-blue of Puget Sound. He was upset by what information he acquired, which didn’t help her already crappy day. She was touched by the way Lars, a blunt soldier, the man with no tact, stumbled over his words.
She didn’t need him to advise her that Miro was a psycho. Miro’s piercing stare as he tracked from her legs up to her bustier was burned deep in the back of her skull. It wasn’t a look of lust or appreciation or any of the totally sexist bullshit women endured. Something deep inside her had recoiled in fear, which was unusual since she wasn’t easily intimidated by men. Primitive recognition of evil was hardwired into all humans.
Nope. She wouldn’t involve any of her women friends. But it wouldn’t stop her from contacting Aiden, Jordan’s fiancé, who just happened to be very protective of Danni as well as an ex-Delta and a badass. With Aiden’s protection and Reeves’s help, she could keep up her investigation from Seattle. It wasn’t ideal to be out of town, but she wouldn’t abandon Alex. She had made a commitment.
Once she had a phone, she’d call Aiden, who wasn’t a part of Jenkins Security, moving her out of Lars’s control. Aiden could set up her protection detail from his unit’s retired members. She had enough money to handle the week or two that she needed to be in hiding before Lars and the DEA tracked down Miro, and then she could go back to…what? She wasn’t sure what she wanted now that her job as a bodyguard had stalled.
“I thought you might have fallen asleep.” She heard the amusement in his voice as he placed her on the edge of the bed.
She almost felt guilty hatching her plan to get away from him, but a woman had to know what was best for herself. A caring and sensitive Lars would dissolve all of her post-Jax resolutions to only be involved with men whom she had no chance of developing feelings for. Like she had planned with Alex. No feelings, no strings, and no hurt.
She couldn’t believe she had totally forgotten about Alex since they arrived at the safe house. She hadn’t taken the plunge, and now, with a broken wrist and sprained ankle, she couldn’t even function as his bodyguard. He would insist on protecting her since he’d feel responsible for the injuries, she’d acquired trying to track his stalker. And she couldn’t handle another man wanting to protect her right now. Lars Jenkins was enough to handle.
“I need to call Alex. Do you have a burner to use?”
“I’ve already called Hardy. I’ve explained everything. The DEA is looking for Roland Young and was en route to interview Hardy. He was very upset and wanted to rush over here. But once I explained, he understood that your location and contact
had to remain dark. He offered to pay for your security detail, but Jordan and Sophie already stepped in to cover the expenses.”
Danni’s eyes welled with tears. God, she really wasn’t coping if her friends’ generosity made her cry in front of Lars.
She looked up at him, waiting for him to make a joke about her tears. Instead, his eyes were back to the steely blue. What? He couldn’t handle a few tears from a woman? No wonder he never had a long-term relationship. Tears were a monthly part of many women’s lives. “Is Alex in danger from the cartel?”
His jaw clenched in the familiar Jenkins manner. On their broad Scandinavian faces, you couldn’t miss the tightening below the angular cheekbones and bright eyes. His eyes weren’t bright now but had changed to an icy glare.
“Probably not, but until Roland Young is found, I’ve attached a Jenkins bodyguard to Hardy. I wasn’t overly impressed with his head of security. But to be fair to the guy, it’s one thing to stop the ladies versus a cartel. My guy can handle whatever is thrown at him.”
“Thank you. That was very thoughtful.”
“It wasn’t. I need to make sure Hardy isn’t involved with Young and the cartel. I find it hard to believe that Hardy never noticed Young’s activities. Traveling from city to city gives the band the opportunity to move drugs or cartel money under the guise of touring.”
“What?” She couldn’t catch her breath from the visceral shock to her chest. Could she have missed Alex’s illegal activity? “Alex is a highly successful artist. Why would he need to work for the cartel?”
“The cartel bankrolls plenty of businesses, including entertainment areas like Las Vegas.”
“Alex is a generous donor to humanitarian and environmental causes. You can’t really believe Alex is involved.” She had never travelled on the tour bus, but the bus did offer an easy way to transport contraband. She couldn’t believe it about Alex. She had spent enough time with him to know he wasn’t capable of anything so insidious.
“It’s very unlikely that Hardy’s involved, but at this point, everyone is a suspect.”
“That’s fair, but I will never believe Alex is working with a drug cartel.”
“Love makes people blind.”
For the past months, Lars thought she was in love with Alex. And she’d let him believe it to keep him at a distance. Reeves had recently told Lars that she was Alex’s bodyguard. He and Reeves must believe she was romantically involved with Alex. She was a better actress than she thought.
Could jealousy account for his sudden change from warm and caring to distant and cold? Lars wasn’t the type to care enough about any woman to be jealous. She knew his type. Every attractive woman was a challenge to be won like a damn trophy. Her “supposed” relationship with Alex didn’t stop Lars from daring her to get physical with him, trying to push her into making a big mistake.
“You ready to get out of your clothes?”
It must be the stress overload, but she caught herself before laughing out loud. That there was a possibility that Alex might be involved with Miro incinerated her brain circuits. She needed sleep, food, a shower, and then an escape hatch.
“I’m sure you’ve used that line a lot.”
“Is there any time soon that you’ll stop with the jabs?” His voice edged to sharp, a tone he had never used with her. “You know I’m not the bad guy here. And you might want to consider that most of my life I’ve been on active duty, not spending my life pursuing women. I’m not like Hardy, having women waiting in every city.”
She was too exhausted to sort out the undercurrents swirling between them.
“I’m on overload over here. I’ll stop whatever offends you.”
“You will?”
His look of shock made Danni laugh. “For now.”
“Of course.” He grinned back at her, the tension dissipating.
“We need to get your foot and ankle elevated. How do you want to get into these sweats and T-shirt I found in a drawer? There are clothes for Sophie and Jordan, but you’re taller than they are, and none of them looked easy to get into and not particularly comfortable to sleep in.”
“I can handle getting the clothes on.” A stretch, but she was damn sure she wouldn’t be letting Lars undress her. She wasn’t that drugged.
“You might need help with your zippers.” Amusement laced his voice as his eyes focused on the zipper of her bustier.
Heat flooded Danni’s face and body at the idea of his large hands touching her. God, she was too tired to handle any more of anything.
“Let’s see how I do without your help.” Her skirt’s zipper was on the side, and she might be able to unzip it. She twisted to reach for the zipper and felt the sudden pull on her unhappy back muscles. And froze.
“I need Luna. My back is this—” She raised her right hand to demonstrate an inch when she noticed how swollen her fingers were. They looked like breakfast sausages and were turning the same color as her face. Suddenly, it was too much. The trip to the bathroom had wiped her out. She couldn’t stop the tear that trickled down her cheek.
“You’ll have to help me.”
She didn’t want him to see how low she felt or how much she needed his help. If he made any comment, she’d punch him with her cast.
“You must be exhausted to not comment on my experience with zippers.”
“Just do it.” She glared at him through her teary eyes. “And not another word. If you hadn’t cancelled Sophie’s flight, my friend would be here helping me.”
“Of course, that was the reason I cancelled her flight. So I could undress you when you’re drugged and look like you had a fight with a door and the door won.”
Why did his comment cheer her up more than if he had tried to comfort her?
He bent over to reach her skirt zipper, and she could see the heavy grain on his day beard, the dashing scar over his thick eyebrow, and his full soft lips. She couldn’t stop herself from staring at each feature. His long nose had a slight bump at the bridge. His separate features weren’t anything remarkable, but together, he was a Nordic god like his ancestors, with the massive bodies and the confidence to plunder and pillage.
He slid her skirt down her legs. The callouses on his hands abraded along her nerve endings, sending shivers up her body. She was now down to her red panties, which she’d worn as a confidence booster when she dressed this morning. If she had known the outcome of the day, she would have stuck to her usual black.
“Panties on or off?”
“In your wildest dreams, buddy. Just get the sweats on. I can feel my ankle swelling.” She didn’t care if she was being bitchy. She didn’t flinch with the burst of heat from Lars’s gaze on her legs.
Despite his size, he was careful and deliberate in his movements. He smoothly slid the wide pant leg over her injured ankle without jerking it.
“I’ll lift you onto the bed, and you can pull up the pants with your left hand. Okay? We’ll get your ankle elevated, and then I can help you with the T-shirt.”
His face was flushed, and she couldn’t not notice the erection bulging against his zipper. God, she wished she hadn’t looked… Her female brain and body parts noted the impressive size despite her exhaustion. And she was glad to see that she wasn’t the only one affected by this sensuality test. She knew how tired she was by the fact that she wasn’t even close to tempted to make any jokes.
He lifted her easily to the head of the bed. She tugged on the oversized sweats, awkwardly, but she managed to get them to her waist. He gently lowered her against the headboard and then guided her ankle onto the pillow.
“Is this good?”
He really was being sweet, and she shouldn’t be pissy at him. He had done nothing but help her. “Sorry. None of this is your fault. You were never bitchy to me when you were in the hospital with a lot worse of an injury.”
His head came up fast. For a brief second, his face had a pensive look that she had never seen before, then his eyes shuttered, and he returned to flir
ting and the Jenkins grin.
“It would be very unmanly to express pain as a marine or a Jenkins. We have strict rules on the subject. And if I got ‘bitchy,’ my brothers would emasculate me.”
His grin widened to showcase his perfect white teeth.
“And no need to apologize. You’ve had a rough day and need to sleep. Let’s get you set up so you can crash.”
He grabbed the black T-shirt off the end of the bed and came to sit next to her, hip to hip.
“We’ll put the T-shirt over your head, and then I’ll unzip your bra thing to preserve your modesty.”
Danni didn’t know where to look or what to say. He was way more generous than she deserved.
He draped the giant T-shirt over her head and then painstakingly placed her splinted wrist through the sleeve. Her lower back started to spasm with the movement. She jerked upright.
“God, I’m sorry. I hurt you?”
“No, my back is very twitchy…right on the edge of spasming again. I need a massage and then a deep soak in Epsom salts. But neither is going to happen. Just ignore me. Let’s get this over with.”
He lifted the front of the giant T-shirt once both her arms were through the sleeves. He was so close that she could smell the musky scent of male mixed with the clean smell of soap. She refused to meet his eyes since hers might give away her emotions swirling out of control.
Instead, she stared at his hands when he unhooked the bustier. She held her breath, ignoring the sensation of his rough fingers so close… She focused on the hair on the back of his hand, visualizing him as a hairy ogre. He had a long, jagged scar across his right hand.
“How did you get that?” She ignored that he hadn’t stopped unzipping her bustier, exposing her breasts and stomach. He held the material close together, but she could still feel the cool air wafting across her skin.
“Sten and I were fighting with real knives, pretending that we were Ninja Turtles.” His breath hitched when his knuckle rubbed against her skin. “I got thirteen stitches and then was sent to my room after the ER visit. It wasn’t much of a punishment since Sten and I shared a room.”
Mission: Impossible to Protect (The Impossible Mission Romantic Suspense Series Book 6) Page 8
