Mission: Impossible to Protect (The Impossible Mission Romantic Suspense Series Book 6), стр. 28
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 lost 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.”
Betrayal hit her like a knee strike to the solar plexus. He was leaving her. She wasn’t prepared for him to leave. This was their last night together. He owed her nothing, so why did it hurt to think of them apart? He had gone well beyond