Mission: Impossible to Protect (The Impossible Mission Romantic Suspense Series Book 6), стр. 20
“Doesn’t feel simple to me.”
Danni’s intense glare targeted at Eric lightened Lars’s mood. Danni giving Eric attitude was a positive sign.
“And what about her ankle?” Lars needed every detail to shape his plans.
“Basic sprain. No indication that she needs any further care other than a standard R-I-C-E approach: rest, ice, compression, and elevation. As you can see, I’ve placed a neoprene compression brace on her ankle. No weight bearing until the swelling and pain subside, which shouldn’t be more than twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”
“You know I’m right here. And am very capable of explaining everything to Lars.”
“I’m sorry, but you’re going to need someone to take care of you.” Eric’s voice gained a stern edge. “You need to remain immobile. And with your dominant hand in a splint, you’re going to need assistance for everything. I want to make sure that he understands your injuries to be able to take care of you.”
“My friend is on her way. She’ll be helping me until I get home.”
Lars didn’t plan to inform Danni about the change he had made to her plans until Eric left. He wanted to avoid dealing with Eric, who, like every male, would want to protect Danni.
Lars had to steel himself not to be swayed by Danni’s loss of her spunky energy and the bruising and swelling on her forehead that had intensified dramatically. He must not be swayed by the way she chewed anxiously on her lower lip or the swelling of her fingers under her cast, or he’d be agreeing to let her friends surround her with all the attention and care she deserved. Bringing the Dean sisters or anyone else into the equation wasn’t the right move for many reasons besides Aiden’s and Finn’s wrath. Miro, the psychopath killer, wasn’t getting close to Danni or her friends.
Lars would try to make up for her friends, but she’d have to wait to be pampered until Miro was in custody or hiding in Mexico.
“I’ll make sure she’s well taken care of. She isn’t going anywhere soon.”
Danni’s watery eyes flashed to life.
“Continue with the hydrocodone for the next two days or so. But let’s get you started on an anti-inflammatory, which should cover your pain in the days ahead now that you’re splinted and icing.”
“Thanks. I think we’ve got it covered.” Lars was ready a half hour ago for Eric to make his exit. Lars had come into the room planning to read her the riot act, but now he wasn’t sure how to proceed. She needed to sleep, but he had to be upfront about canceling Sophie’s trip. He didn’t want her to wake up and be disappointed.
“Danni, I know this sucks, but I promise you’ll be out on the dance floor before you know it.” Eric took a step toward the bed. “And when you’re back in LA, don’t forget to give me a call and we can go to Boulevard Three.”
Lars’s head nearly exploded—this asshole was hitting on a distressed woman when she was most vulnerable. Lars would have punched him, but he didn’t want to upset Danni any further. Eric had just completed his one and only visit to the Dean’s safe house.
“You’re going to love my wife, Tammy; she’s an incredible dancer. I’ll watch the two of you from the sidelines. I’m sure you have all the moves. I’m really sorry about your fall, but you’re strong and healthy, and you’ll heal quickly.”
Lars swallowed hard, trying to relax, but that wasn’t gonna happen while his body was flooded with take-no-prisoners hormones. Fortunately, his military discipline kicked in to prevent him from acting like a number one asshat. His protective instincts toward Danni had turned into a ridiculous Neanderthal parody. Thank God Sten wasn’t here to witness the farce. His twin would never let him live it down if Lars took out the MD.
“If you have any questions, you have my pager and my cell, Lars.”
The dude started toward the door, then turned and grinned. “By the way, thanks for the restraint in not hammering me. I happen to be a very happily married man.”
Lars hated his Scandinavian fair skin, which read like a road map to his emotions. Heat deluged his face and the tops of his ears. Nothing covert about blushing.
He gave Dr. Eric another frown and urged him out the door. Maybe Lars wouldn’t strike him off the list.
Chapter Eleven
Lars rearranged Danni’s leg on the pillow, all the time avoiding eye contact to hide his embarrassment. He made a big production of fluffing the pillows, waiting for his skin to cool. No other woman had him twisted into acting totally batshit crazy. He had never cared enough to feel protective, jealous, or possessive of a woman—damned if he would start now. His off-the-wall reaction was because of the guilt over his failure to protect her. She had almost been run down on his watch. He couldn’t shut out the image of the SUV slamming into her.
“Is the medicine starting to kick in?”
“The examination ramped up the pain, but I’m starting to feel some relief now. Maybe I just needed Eric to stop messing with my ankle and wrist.” Danni sighed and closed her eyes. Her head rested on the headboard, her gorgeous, tangled hair flowing around her shoulders.
Lars needed to talk to her before she fell asleep. He moved to her right, careful to avoid her injured ankle. Aware of his size, he gingerly sat on the bed by her hip, trying not to jostle the pillows. Aware of how much he wanted to take her into his arms.
Her eyes fluttered open. He wasn’t sure if the bruising from her forehead was causing the smudges of black under each eye or if it was just her smeared mascara. The beautiful woman was a mess from the angry red, almost purple contusion on her forehead combined with her black eyes. He knew enough about women not to say a word. The mirror would tell her soon enough.
“Must