Mission: Impossible to Deny (The Impossible Mission Romantic Suspense Series Book 7) by Jacki Delecki (best free novels TXT) 📕

Nick nodded. “We’ve got a big day tomorrow. Everyone, get some rest.”

“Come on, Danni. We have a lot to ‘sort out’ tonight.” Lars wagged his eyebrows.

“You’re right. We do have to finish the guest list and decide on the caterer.”

Danni grinned at Lars’s dramatic moan in response to the mention of wedding details.

Darcy had hoped that they would leave before she did. She didn’t want them to see her go to Reeves’s room. Her room too. He’d learn that soon enough.

“Good night. And thank you for including me as part of your team.” Darcy looked at Nick and then the rest of the group. “I’m looking forward to nailing Wainwright tomorrow.”

She walked toward Reeves’s door, feeling every eye on her back. She entered without knocking.

As she stepped into the room, Reeves walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips, drying his hair with another one. And even though the large room was only lit by the bedside lamps, she saw the water glistening on his chiseled pecs, abs, and down his muscular thighs. The towel was too small to hide the inviting line of dark hair leading to an impressive bulge. For a tech geek, Reeves was a perfect specimen of maleness. And all hers to touch and kiss once they got their business settled.

“Did we get our room assignments wrong? This is my room.” His tone was arctic and condescending.

She had to remind herself that he was in pain and not just being a jerk.

“My room as well.” Taking a page out of Danni’s playbook, Darcy moved closer and placed one hand on her hip.

“Your room?” He didn’t stop rubbing his hair, displaying his sculpted biceps and the black hair under his arms.

Heat flooded through her. And her knees got shaky. His brooding, raw masculinity undid her.

She lowered her voice. “I never go back on my promises.”

His hand stopped mid-air as his eyes narrowed on her. “I don’t recall any promise.”

He was going to make her pay, the big clod.

 “You’re such a liar. You know exactly what I’m talking about. I made a promise after your kidnapping to spend the night in bed with you if you listened to your body and rested.”

“Forget it.” He tossed the towel he dried his hair with onto the floor. “I don’t need a pity fuck.”

She marched right in front of him, close enough to breathe in the clean scent of soap combined with the musky scent of male.

“But if you’re set on sleeping in this bed, go for it. I’ll go upstairs.”

Darcy, not known for patience with her idiot brothers, poked him hard in the chest. “Stop being such a big jerk. A ‘pity fuck?’ Really? If I had two available hands, I’d knock you on your ass.”

He grabbed her finger. “Is that so?”

His breathing was audible, and the color on his cheeks darkened. She could bend and lick the water drips on the thick mat of hair on his chest—follow it down the path that winded to the real pleasure.

The sexual tension intensified with every uptick in his breath. She was primed, and the scent of arousal filled the air as her breasts swelled and her breathing quickened. She could barely control herself to not tear off his towel and get down on her knees.

He released her finger and stepped back, taking away the heat radiating off his body and his scent that fired her pheromones.

“Why are you here, Darcy?”

“You know why I’m here, Reeves. I want you. And the way the towel is tented, you want me too.”

He moved to his suitcase lying on the floor, then bent over to allow a panoramic view of his male parts. And it was enough for her heart to skip a beat or two or even three.

“Means nothing except I’m a healthy male who responds to any woman showing up in my bedroom. But I’m not in the mood to take care of you tonight. I have an important day ahead of me tomorrow.”

“Okay, jackass, that’s it. I’ve had enough of you, ‘Mr. Pissed Off, Poor Reeves.’ Are you ready to marry me?”

He snapped around. “What the hell?”

She followed him, invading his space. “You heard the question. Are you ready to marry me?”

“Your concussion is affecting your thinking.”

She loved the way his chest flexed and the towel loosened with his tirade. A girl could hope for a show.

“Then why are you angry and hurt that I’m not ready to marry you either?”

“Honestly, Darcy. I’m getting dressed to take you to a clinic for a CT scan. You’re making no sense.”

“I’m making total sense. You’re acting as if I kick puppies and waterboard innocents because I might be awarded a dream job in the future. The future. A future we haven’t had time to discuss. Hell, we barely know each other. Two days ago, we hadn’t met in person. We haven’t even had sex, but you’re mad and rejecting me tonight because of a possibility that may never happen.”

He ran his hand through his tousled hair, giving her another spectacular view of his armpit. Who knew she could get wet from any part of a well-formed man’s anatomy? Not just any man. Reeves. Only Reeves. Every inch of Reeves was a turn-on.

“You’re right. And I am mad. Mad at myself. I don’t have your experience of living under the wire. I thought how I felt about you after my kidnapping was real and not an after-effect of all the emotions and adrenaline dump. But I’ve had time to think it through. And it was nothing but blind lust that got all mixed up after the threat. Nothing more.”

Darcy controlled the need to roll her eyes and prayed for patience. Reeves had had shock piled upon shock since she’d arrived in his life.

“I do have more experience, but I’ve never thrown myself at any other man who has been part of an operation. I’ve never declared myself,