Mission: Impossible to Protect (The Impossible Mission Romantic Suspense Series Book 6)

by Jacki Delecki

  She jerked the T-shirt down as soon as he pulled away the bustier. “Is there any place that you don’t have scars?”

  “We can look together.” He grinned as his eyes lightened with laughter.

  He was never serious. Always joking despite living a dangerous life filled with painful tragedies. His father had been killed in action when he was very young.

  “Have you always been the jokester of the family?”

  “You’ve met Nick and Finn. They seemed to be always focused and driven…to make up for the loss of our father. Sten and I were too young to be impacted like they were. They had a lot of anger since they worshipped our father. Sten and I were left to our own devices much of the time, which suited us perfectly. When I look back, I think we felt pressure to lighten up the family, entertain them with our daring exploits. And boy, did we.”

  And fulfilling his role, he continued to pursue daring exploits in battle and with women. Did he ever wonder if there was more to him than being an entertainer? He was a solid, caring man… She was desperate for sleep if she was considering Lars Jenkins in a committed relationship.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lars paced in front of Danni’s bedroom, checking his watch again. He had answered all his pressing emails about his upcoming trip, and still Luna hadn’t finished. Luna Star had been with Danni for well over an hour. How long could a massage go on? The LA team was waiting to move Danni to a new safe house as soon as the massage therapist was done. He never strayed from the door, ready to intervene at any indication of trouble despite the minimal threat from the unassuming five-foot therapist. His heightened overprotective feelings wouldn’t allow him to move. He was determined to take no risk when it came to Danni.

  He allowed Luna into the safe house only because they were about to change locations. It was never good to stay in one place when you were dealing with a powerful cartel with eyes and ears throughout LA. He had Reeves vet Luna a second time, knowing that Reeves had already run a search previously at Danni’s request.

  Luna Star was proving to be more interesting than expected. Real name Amelia Farnsworth, East Coast old money, dramatic lifestyle changes when her mother died eight months ago; changed her name to “Luna Star,” had been a rising new talent before dropping out of RISD, the prestigious Rhode Island School of Design.

  Lars had his men drive the most circuitous route through LA to ensure that Luna would have no way of finding the house again and to prevent a cartel tail—impossible to be too careful, given the long reach of the world’s largest cartel. He assumed that the cartel was watching Hardy to find Danni. He didn’t think they were watching the band or Luna, but he was taking no chances.

  Danni’s warm look of appreciation when he announced Luna’s upcoming massage was forever burned into his brain. Danni had never looked at him with such admiration. Caring for him at the hospital, she was gentle and compassionate, but she had never looked at him as if he might be a man worthy of her love.

  In a mind-blowing, crazy in a “what the hell is happening” way, he wanted more of her glowing approval. He was shocked that by pleasing her in a total nonsexual way, it pleased him too. He was fucked this way to Sunday. Once he told her the truth, all the admiration gleaming in her incredible eyes would disappear. He’d be back to the top of her shit list. He had arranged her massage because he truly didn’t want her to be in pain but also to enable her to sit on the six-hour flight. He knew from experience that nothing was worse than sitting for a prolonged time when you had back spasms.

  He hurried away from the door when his phone rang, not wanting to disturb the massage. He glanced down at the cell’s screen—no fricking way, another call by Danni’s posse. After sleeping in the chair in Danni’s room for the last two nights, if you could call it sleeping, he wasn’t in the best of moods. His building frustration from long nights near Danni, without being able to touch her, made him more than cranky. And to add to his crappy mood, before he had his morning Joe, the phone calls started despite Danni having access to a burner phone to call her friends.

  He clicked his phone.

  “Hey, Soph, nothing changed since I last talked to you.”

  Okay, he gave up the pretense of being charming. He was too damn tired of listening to her friends/amateurs explain to him that Danni could be protected better in Seattle, where she could also get the support and pampering that she needed from her friends. And, of course, why he shouldn’t be in charge since he and Danni didn’t get along. What was this, middle school?

  “She’s not answering her phone because she’s still in her massage.” God save him from girlfriends.

  No one under his command questioned his ability to handle a mission. He was highly trained to separate his emotions from his job. Hell, he was a Special Forces operator. And he was damn tired of the women implying that he couldn’t protect Danni. Another reason why he didn’t need a woman in his life. You didn’t just get her family when you became seriously involved; you also got the bonus of all her girlfriends.

  “I’ll tell her you called.” He didn’t say aloud “again,” but he sure as hell thought it. “I know she’ll want to talk to you too.”

  All of them: Jordan, Sophie, Izzy, and even Emily in Hawaii called to express their concern that he shouldn’t be the one in charge of Danni’s detail. Since they were involved with his brothers, the women felt it gave them carte blanche to voice their opinions.

  By default, he had acquired more sisters than he ever wanted. Each exchange had the same “concerned” theme. Didn’t anyone remember that Miro had Danni’s driver’s license with her Seattle address? And also, the psychopath had Danni’s phone with her full contacts list, making all the women at risk by association. He kept it to himself that Miro liked to use his knife to get up nice and close to his victims. The conclusion was a no-brainer: Danni wouldn’t be returning to Seattle until he deemed it safe.

  Lars had just slid his phone into his jean pocket when it buzzed again. He dug the nuisance back out and glanced at the screen. Reeves again.

  Reeves sided with the women but didn’t openly criticize Lars, though he projected an undercurrent of unease and disapproval. Just because Lars didn’t get serious with women didn’t mean he wasn’t respectful. His mamma was one tough woman and demanded respect for all women from all her sons.

  “Yes, New York. No, I’m not changing my mind. No more discussion. Just do it.” Lars hung up. He couldn’t believe that even Reeves was against him.

  Without sleep, Lars was tempted to point out to Reeves that, as an employee, it wasn’t his place to question. What stopped Lars was Reeves’s genuine care for Danni. It was Reeves’s judgement that saved her from disaster by sending Lars to LA.

  Lars pivoted quickly, suddenly aware of another person.

  Luna Star waited outside Danni’s closed door.

  “I’m so glad that I was able to come to your house. Danni really needed the adjustment. The fall must have been horrendous.” Luna pressed her thin lips together. “I find it hard to believe she fell. She’s so fit and really comfortable in high heels.”

  It seemed that Danni had stuck to the script, pretending that she tripped on the curb after getting shoved from behind in the crowds of Santee Alley. And that she was staying at her cousin Lars’s house to hide from the tabloid press until she could return to tour with Alex. And preventing Danni’s location from being leaked to the press, Luna wasn’t allowed to bring her phone or tell anyone about the massage. Luckily, Luna hadn’t been around when Lars came backstage with Sophie. It was always good to stick as close as you could to the truth.

  “I’ve warned Danni how detrimental wearing those high heels are to her posture and back. But I guess when you’re a famous star’s girlfriend, you have to look the part.”

  Was Luna jealous of Danni? In her ’60s hippie outfit, Luna didn’t look like she cared about fashion. Her long black hair was woven into thick dreadlocks. She wore a tank top and some sort of baggy pants, with a tie-dye p
urse and what looked like hemp rope over her shoulder.

  “I’ve never been to Santee Alley, but Danni’s so tall it’s hard to believe that someone could knock her down.”

  “Is Danni feeling better?” Lars had wasted enough time making nice with Luna. He was ready to get moving out of this house.

  Luna’s eyes searched the room, taking in the details.

  “She fell asleep right after I finished. It’s common to need sleep after an insult to the body. She’ll be fine as long as she rests and doesn’t take any more falls.”

  Lars moved past Luna to check on Danni. His need to be reassured that she was secure was a little unnerving. He opened the door to find Danni in a deep sleep with her lips parted. Lars found it endearing that Danni snored, even though it kept him awake part of the night. When had he spent the entire night with a woman without sex? Never—too many awkward questions the next morning.

  When he wasn’t mooning over Danni, he’d spent the rest of the nights in the darkness conjuring the “what if” worst scenarios if the cartel found them. Lars had to stay sharp and ahead of Miro to keep her alive and out of the hands of the sadistic bastard. Not the time to be fixated on Danni and her endearing qualities.

  He didn’t second-guess his gut. The message was loud and clear that Miro was on the hunt. He and Danni would be gone before the cartel could track them to this house if they figured out about Luna’s trip.

  “Thank you for helping Danni.” Lars moved toward the door. It was time to wrap up Luna’s visit.

  “It’s the least I could do. Danni’s been a great friend. It gets lonely touring with an all-guy band. And Danni can make anyone laugh.”

  She pushed her long, stringy bangs away from her face. Lars zeroed in on the tats on both her wrists. Stars encircled each wrist. From this angle, he could see red striations of scarring on her pale skin that her tats didn’t cover. He didn’t see anything in Reeves’s report about any accidents or suicide attempts.

  Luna had moved to an organic coop farm in Vermont, leaving her painting career behind her. Instead, she farmed and became a massage therapist, landing the gig with the band four months ago when Alex took a fall in Burlington. Luna travelled with the band, providing massages for Alex and any of the band members. She’d first hooked up with Roland Young, but now she was with the drummer, Silas Nugent. There were no red flags linking Luna and Nugent to the cartel.

  “Alex is so distraught over Danni being injured. Alex hasn’t told anyone, but I’m sure that he’ll come to visit her after the concert tomorrow night. Hanging backstage isn’t what Danni needs right now. Leave it up to Alex to know exactly what she needed and to arrange for me to give her a massage. I wish Silas were so considerate.”

  If Lars had to listen to more of the crap about Alex and Danni, he’d explode and probably punch a hole in the wall. Seeing them together had twisted him in knots, clouding his judgement, a regular occurrence in regard to Danni. But if Danni was involved with Hardy and vice versus, why hadn’t she demanded to see him right after her accident? Why wouldn’t she want him to comfort her? And if he were Hardy, he wouldn’t have left Danni’s side. Nope, just as Reeves thought. Danni was only his bodyguard.

  “Thanks again. I’m sure Hardy will arrange for another massage when Danni needs one. The car is waiting for you.” Lars walked toward the door, expecting Luna to follow him, which she did. He was glad to watch her climb in the back seat of the SUV and drive away. She was all sweetness and concern, and he couldn’t wait to get rid of her. He liked his women direct, not full of bullshit saccharine.

  He had just described Danni. He was man enough to admit that he liked Danni a lot. The problem was she didn’t like him much. And wait till she found out about New York.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Danni stretched her arms over her head. It was great to move without fear of her back going bonkers. Seated on the couch in the current safe house, ankle propped on the coffee table, finally comfortable, she had rejoined the living. She was no longer a prisoner in bed on narcotics that had knocked her out. The swelling in her ankle was no longer visible, and the back spasms had subsided. She was still in sweats and a man’s T-shirt for comfort and ease.

  By tomorrow evening, she would be back to her life in Seattle. Back to having control, back to her friends, back to her investigation, without a considerate Lars tempting her. Sophie, majorly lonely with Finn deployed, insisted that Danni stay with her. Sophie’s house was totally secure, and Danni wouldn’t feel like such a burden, requiring her friends to cover the costs of her protection. Not that it mattered to them, but it did to Danni.

  No more up close and personal with hunky Lars sleeping in a chair next to her bed and carrying her to the bathroom in the middle of the night. She no longer needed his help. Thanks to her cane, she was mobile.

  Speak of the sexy devil, Lars came from the office and stood in front of her. Interestingly, he had taken the last call in the office. Who had he been talking with, and why the secrecy?

  Her eyes trailed up the worn blue jeans that hugged his muscular thighs. His gun was tucked into his shoulder holster, calling attention to his broad, ripped chest. His hair was rumpled like he had been running his hand through the thick locks during his call.

  Lars was careless about his appearance, unlike Jax who felt that his clothes should reflect his success as a venture capitalist. Like her parents, Jax believed appearance signaled money and power.

  “Do you need anything? Can I get you something to drink?”

  Okay, so maybe she would miss her sex-on-a-stick caregiver a bit, but not more than a smidgen. Denial was a very highly respected form of coping.

  “Nope. I’m good. Thank you again for arranging for the massage. It made a really big difference.”

  Lars sat next to her on the couch, his heavy weight depressing the pillow that she was seated on. He lifted her hand and examined the fingers. When had she become accustomed to him casually touching her?

  “The swelling is better, and the purple is changing to yellow.”

  Awareness of his thigh touching hers sent electric sparks blasting through her. It was one thing to have Lars taking care of her when she wasn’t totally with it. Now—maybe not such a good idea.

  “Once I’m home, I can coordinate my eye makeup to match my black eyes and purplish-yellow fingers and ankle. You know, go for the full raccoon/Goth look.”

  The swelling from the impact to her forehead had moved south, giving her two black eyes.

  She grinned, but he didn’t smile back. She was closely examining him for the first time since the accident. The dark circles under his eyes were in stark contrast to his fair skin. And the crinkles around his eyes were deeper, almost like worry lines. She hadn’t noticed the toll her care had taken on Lars. She had been distracted by the headaches, back spasms, wrist and ankle pain, along with the flashbacks and the nightmares when she could sleep. He’d taken care of her despite his own injuries. He never once complained. A lump of emotions lodged in her throat. No one had ever taken care of her. Her parents were too busy with their careers to have time for their children except when it came to making sure that they were achieving their benchmarks toward success.

  “I’m sure you’ll be glad to be back in Seattle instead of playing nursemaid to me.” He was so close she got a whiff of his familiar sexy male scent.

  “About that.” His voice was quiet. “My plans are to go to NYC from here. I need to see my agent.”

  “Your agent?” Danni’s brain spun with a multitude of questions. “A sports agent?”

  Sophie had once told her that Lars could’ve played pro football after college, but he’d declined in order to follow his brothers into the marines.

  His sudden bark of laughter shook his ripped abs. She tried not to stare as a surge of heat flashed through her.

  “Nothing that impressive. I’m not sure why you would think a sports agent would be interested in me. I have a literary agent.”

  Never l
ost for words, she was speechless. She snapped her hanging mouth closed.

  “There it is. The proof. The real litmus test.”

  “But… I’ve never seen you read a book.”

  “You do have to read to attend the Naval Academy.”

  The motion of his sculpted chest in the tight-fitting black T-shirt, shaken by his hearty laugh, was a work of beauty. She raised her splint, pretending that she would brain him.

  “Not fair…”

  “Sorry, but you’re the first person I’ve told, and I get the disbelief and shock. Just imagine my brothers’ reactions.”

  “Your brothers don’t know?”

  “Sten knows. Only because after he had read my first book, he immediately recognized that I must be the author. Although I’ve never disclosed my identity, it’s the weird communication thing between twins. And Reeves figured it out last year.”

  “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

  “I don’t think my writing would be of interest to you. I write military history/thrillers.” He shrugged. “My pen name is RJ Phillips.”

  “You’re RJ Phillips? I read your first book. I didn’t think I’d like it, but after Finn and Sophie raved about it, I decided to give it a shot. I was worried that I’d be bored with technical jargon. I couldn’t put it down. You’re a really great writer.”

  She felt uncomfortable to share that she had been moved by his vivid description of the psychological toll of combat. The suffering that the soldiers endured when they returned to civilian life resonated with her feelings after her kidnapping. Lars Jenkins was a deeply compassionate man.

  Danni leaned back on the leather cushion to examine his face, looking for the mocking jokester to appear to right her spinning world. “Is this some sort of joke? You really are RJ Phillips, the New York Times bestselling author?”

  “Yes, I really am, and I have to go to NYC to see my agent. We’ll be discussing adapting my first book, and possibly a sequel from the other books, into a film.”