Mission: Impossible to Deny (The Impossible Mission Romantic Suspense Series Book 7), Jacki Delecki [polar express read aloud .TXT] 📗

“Right, asshole. I’m fine.”

And he was grateful that the Jenkins kept their comments to themselves when he stumbled before righting himself. But he didn’t miss the concerned look between Nick and Finn.

Damn it. He didn’t want Darcy to see him like this. He understood her over-responsible, guilty self would be upset. But he knew how to tease her out of the “weight of the world rests on my shoulders” attitude.

The promise of teasing Darcy lightened his step.

Darcy had never been this amped up. Her heart rate was in the red zone, nearing stroke level. She tried for slow, easy breaths, but she was too jacked from the adrenaline flooding her body. Not being able to rush in and defend Reeves was worse than the T-boning or the punch to the face. Hamstrung by her injuries, waiting outside as the Jenkinses and the FBI’s HRT teams assaulted the warehouse was a living hell.

She was stuck in a nightmarish time warp. The seconds were measured by her frantic helplessness and the “what if” scenarios rocketing through her. Her fear exponentially grew as she waited. If they were too late … would they find Reeves as they had Tex? All that joy and life gone. His laughing eyes, his teasing banter snuffed out. Replaced with an empty, blank stare.

She shifted her weight and fought to bring herself into the moment. To keep her discipline and training at the forefront and not let her thoughts sink into a black hole. The air wouldn’t move in her lungs. Finn must have tightened her Kevlar vest too tight.

Her nerves were strung taut as a piano wire ready to snap, and she was aware of the silence as the team moved through the warehouse. Radio silent. She was isolated except for two members of the HRT team next to her to protect the entrance if the Sureños arrived. And although no one said it, to cover her. She coped with her stress by getting physical, fighting the bad guys, and instead, she was trapped—unable to protect others—useless to the team.

No shots. Nothing from the warehouse. Her stomach roiled. Reeves was gone. The Sureños had arrived before the team. Raw anguish filled her chest. The Sureños would torture Reeves for escaping before they killed him. She leaned against the wall for support.

She had taken lives and caused lives to be taken in the Army and the CIA. They were bad players, and she liked to believe that her actions had saved lives. She had never harmed an innocent before. Remorse weighed on her soul. Reeves was a vibrant and caring man. The world would lose a shining light.

She would never stop looking for him. She would never give up. Resolve helped her screw her head on straight. Spinning in her thoughts, she almost missed Nick’s voice.

Reeves was alive. Safe. Close by. Tears burned behind her eyes, and relief made her knees shaky. She would not cry now in front of the entire testosterone-dominated HRT team and the Jenkins brothers.

She ran to the back of the warehouse, following the sound of the voices. Darcy dodged the forklift and the HRT team that was streaming down the aisles.

One of the men pointed to the right to guide her.

She was breathless, not from the exertion, but from all the emotions bubbling that she had been holding inside—overpowering feelings that she had walled up into an impenetrable box.

“Darcy.” A very pale Reeves walked toward her, listing to the left. His hair was a mess, dark circles framed his bloodshot eyes, and his dress shirt was rumpled. And he’d never looked more beautiful.

She slowed, suddenly unsure. How would she ever explain how her feelings for him had dramatically shifted in the hours that he had been missing? The woman who wasn’t afraid of anything had been terrified of losing him. What if he didn’t have the same extraordinary revelation?

Not pausing, he pulled her gently into his arms, wrapping her in his warmth. “I was so afraid that I’d never see you again. That my life was finished when we’d barely got started.”

Darcy snuggled close, breathing in his vitality, absorbing his body heat, feeling his steady heartbeat. “I want to get started right now.”

Nick’s deep voice boomed in the high-ceiling space. “You should probably wait until he’s had some water and has eaten.”

 “Or Reeves may never get started,” Lars joked over his shoulder as the brothers walked away.

“They’re such assholes.”

“They’re right.” She knew she was being selfish, but she needed to hold him after all the terror. She wanted to reassure herself that he was safe and alive. “You look pretty unsteady. Do you need medical care?”

“You’re not going to call another ambulance for me, are you?”

The glint in Reeves’s eyes and his teasing tone made everything in Darcy’s world begin to right itself.

“You’re incorrigible.” She gazed up, wanting to see every detail of his angular face, the beard stubble on his chin, the shape of his full lips. “My God, I want to kill those bastards.”

He gently pushed her hair away from her face, tenderly outlining with his fingertip the bruising on her cheek and then her swollen lips.

“Looks like we’ll both have to recover before I can kiss you the way I want to.” He bent and touched his warm lips to hers. “I never want you to have another moment of pain. I’ve never experienced icy fear as when the bastard bragged about hurting you. Not knowing how badly you were injured was worse than any torture they could have inflicted on me.”

Darcy absorbed his every word, trying to believe, to accept that this wonderful man shared the same feelings. How could the dark, sinister world she inhabited bring such joy into her life? She didn’t care how they came together. They were together. And she’d fight to keep them that way.

“Watching your convulsions was the same—primitive terror. One minute you were carefree and laughing, and then when I learned that you had been overdosed …” Her