Mission: Impossible to Protect (The Impossible Mission Romantic Suspense Series Book 6), стр. 15
He burst toward her, knowing he’d be too late.
Panicked, he couldn’t pull air into his lungs. He watched the action like a slowed sports replay: Danni jumping to avoid the van, twisting her ankle as her weight was thrown forward. Throwing her hand out to break the fall, then her body contorting, and her head slamming into the cement.
Lars tore through the last hundred feet to Danni lying motionless, prone on the pavement. Cars veered to avoid hitting her.
Lars swept her up with his left arm, his gun, steady in his right hand, aimed at the pursuer. His focus was fixed on the man who now stood in the middle of the busy street. The asshole’s eyes scanned the crowd, calculating the odds of getting a clear shot in the congested area.
Danni moaned as he pulled her against his chest and backed away from the danger. Lars kept stepping further away from the man who now spoke rapidly into his cell—most likely calling in reinforcements. The man didn’t flinch as the honking cars swerved around him. The dude had cojones, as he was willing to risk his life to get to Danni. Or was that desperation?
Lars quickly assessed the exits. Joining the crowd was his best option since the streets left them wide open.
Danni shifted in his arms as Lars turned and raced into the crowd for cover. He pulled off her lopsided wig that hung over her left eye to make sure she wasn’t bleeding anywhere other than the abrasion across her forehead.
Assessing the extent of her injuries would have to wait until he got her away from the threat. First rule of first aid: remove the victim out of harm’s way. SUVs and an armed man in pursuit presented a big fricking threat. How could one woman find so much trouble?
Lars cursed that he wasn’t miced to call Reeves for backup and an ambulance. Several people approached to help but stopped when they saw his gun. Who knew he would need a battalion to guard Danni?
He repeatedly turned back to look for the return of the SUV and see whether the dude had decided to follow them. The man must have received instructions not to pursue since he now walked back toward the store. If Lars weren’t alone, he’d have gone after the fricking asshole.
Lars tucked the gun into the back of his jeans, pushing his way through the shoppers. He lifted Danni higher against his body, cradling her neck to prevent further jarring.
“Sweetheart, how you doing?” He soothed her golden hair away from her pale face. Tenderness and guilt filled his chest. How could he let this happen to her on his watch?
People stopped and stared at the spectacle of a beautiful, unconscious woman in his arms. Nothing like being totally conspicuous and memorable. He had to quickly choose one of the stores in the alley to hide in until Reeves could arrange for an exit.
A pet store he had spotted when following Danni was a little farther ahead if he remembered correctly. If. He never dealt in “ifs.” He was always mission ready. If he had been treating this as a real mission, he would have reconnoitered the entire area in advance, known all the stores, including all the exits. Instead, he had been engrossed in watching Danni sashay through the crowd.
“Lars?” Her voice was husky. She reached up and touched his face. Her slender fingers traced the scar on his chin from the butt of an ISIS rifle to the face.
Grateful to hear her voice and feel her gentle touch, he couldn’t stop the tremor in his voice or the rawness welling up in his throat. “It’s okay. We’re almost there.”
“Why are you carrying me?” Her big eyes blinked up at him, her thick lashes fluttering.
“You don’t remember?” Did she sustain a concussion? The large, angry abrasion on her forehead reflected her face-plant on the cement. The bleeding had slowed, but now the area was swelling. She would have a big bruise tomorrow, marring her perfect face.
“I remember everything. Where is the dirtball?”
God, this woman could’ve been a marine. He wanted to kiss her despite the threat.
“We’ve lost him for now, but we’ve got to get out of here.”
“You can put me down. I’m perfectly capable of walking. We’re drawing attention. Not the best idea for escaping notice.”
Lars laughed out loud. Maybe it was the adrenaline rush or this confounding woman who fit perfectly in his arms and had his world in a tailspin. Despite being chased by an armed man and almost run down, she was already directing the op—an op he hadn’t anticipated and wasn’t prepared for. He was known for his ability to adjust on the battlefield, but watching Danni threatened on all sides would take him a long time to forget.
“Once we get into the pet store, I’ll put you down, and you can decide if your twisted ankle is ready for weight.”
“My ankle isn’t hurting. It’s my wrist. I might have broken it.”
“Don’t move it.” He dodged another tour group with an open umbrella.
“Why would I want to do that?”
Her exasperation was endearing. “Only a few feet more.” The Jenkins’ Scandinavian ancestors’ genes came in handy; Lars could see over the bobbing heads. They hadn’t been followed. Lars pulled the door open to the ACME Pet Store.
“How did you know where to find me?”
“Once I’ve called Reeves, we can talk.”
A teenage girl with purple hair and ink on her arms rushed from behind the counter. “Live long and purr paws” was emblazoned across her purple cat T-shirt in honor of Star Trek.
On missions, you had to improvise and rely on whatever support you could