by Lori Foster
“How long have you been up?” She tasted the eggs, tore open a salt and pepper packet, seasoned them, then tasted again. With a roll of her eyes, she said, “Oh, Nirvana.”
Dare enjoyed her expression of greedy bliss. “I woke a few hours ago.” Still at your side, with you squeezed up against me. He’d awakened with women many times, but never a woman like her, never a woman in her situation.
She’d been dead to the world, and still she clung to him so tightly that he had to pry her loose before sliding out of the bed and away from her. After leaving her, he noted the fading of her warmth against his skin, and how her scent still clung to him.
Disturbing.
“What time is it?” She bit into the bacon and chewed with delight.
“Noon.”
“Wow. Late for you, I bet.” Her gaze flashed up with a hint of humor. “You being such an orderly, organized guy.” She emphasized that with a peek around the room. He’d already made his bed, because he hated the clutter of rumpled blankets and really didn’t want housekeeping around his stuff.
Dare shrugged. Usually he rose before dawn, but he’d needed the rest, too. Leaning forward, he tried for a note of seriousness. “So, Molly, what do we have on the agenda for the day?”
She paused with another bite of bacon almost to her mouth. Her hand dropped back to the table. “Well, I’ve been thinking about that.”
“While you were in the bathroom for, oh…thirty seconds?” The rest of the time she’d either slept or talked. She hadn’t really had time to ponder things.
Her chin lifted. “Actually, since I woke up in your backseat and realized you weren’t with the bad guys, I’ve been considering what to do next.”
Amazing. He believed her, though. He hadn’t known her long, but he’d already figured out that she was that type of no-nonsense, get-it-together, make-a-plan woman. “Come to any conclusions?” He was dying to know.
“That depends.” She fidgeted a moment, then tilted her head at him. “Are you expensive, Dare?”
Now what was she up to? He crossed his arms and sat back. “Very.”
“So, that means you’re really good?”
His eyes narrowed, and he said again, “Very.”
Mulling that over, she nodded acceptance. “I’m not certain what type of work you do, but I know you carry a knife and a pretty big gun, and that you’re darned good at getting in and out of dire situations.”
All true enough.
“I trust what I know of you, and you did rescue me with no incentive other than that it was the right thing to do, so… I was hoping maybe I could hire you?” Very unsure of herself, she ended with a clear question, hoping for his cooperation.
Dare studied her, a little astounded, but also curious. But again, it proved nearly impossible to know what was in that quick mind of hers. So far just about everything she’d said or done had been unexpected.
“To do what, exactly?” If she thought he was a murderer for hire, he’d just have to set her straight. Yes, he’d killed, but only when necessary to protect an innocent. Never in cold blood. Never for money.
He was as law-abiding as the next guy—when he could abide the law.
Leaning forward in her seat, Molly put her elbows on the table and stared him in the eyes. “Someone wanted me hurt, I’m sure of that. Maybe he even wanted me killed. I need to know who he is, or I’ll never be able to relax. Until that person is revealed, I’ll need protection.” Her gaze dipped over his body, her lips rolled in, and she hurried her attention back to his face.
She let out a ragged breath. “God’s truth, Dare, I think you’re a man who could protect anything or anyone if you set your mind to it.”
Damn right—but he wasn’t yet ready to commit himself. There was a lot he didn’t know about Molly Alexander. He started with the most obvious. “You said he. You think a man set you up?”
Her mouth twisted. “Actually, that was just a figure of speech. I didn’t mean to leap to any conclusions. It could be anyone.”
No kidding. “Do you have enemies, Molly?”
She laughed with a near-hysterical edge, but she quickly regrouped and picked up some toast. “All things considered, apparently I do.”
He couldn’t argue that point. The more he’d thought about it, the more her theory made sense. Someone must have wanted her taken, because she wasn’t the young helpless innocent usually grabbed.
But he wanted to hear her reasoning. “What makes you so sure you weren’t just a random grab gone awry?”
“Besides the obvious unsuitability for the standard—being gorgeous, stacked, younger women?” A new edge showed in her demeanor, a renewed fear and anger. “I wasn’t treated the same. Not even close. They leered at the others, saw them as commodities, but they mostly just wanted to taunt me, as if they were allowed liberties with me that were forbidden against the others.”
“The bruises on your face,” Dare remarked aloud, and he had to tamp down his anger. “A bruised woman doesn’t sell for as much.”
She shrugged. “They never once struck the other women in the face. In fact, they might have manhandled them a little, but they didn’t hit them at all.”
“You egged them on.” Dare couldn’t get over that.
“Did Alani tell you that? Well, it’s true, I guess—and it sort of makes me sound nuts, huh?”
“I don’t know. Depends on why you did it, I guess.”
Her hands curled into fists. “They wanted to break me, and I refused. I was afraid that once I did, once I fell apart, they’d go ahead and kill me. Like maybe that’s what they were waiting for.”
She’d crumbled the toast, realized it, and brushed her hands before folding them in her lap. “Believe me, I was terrified, but rather than show them that, I showed them the scorn I felt.”
Again, she amazed him. She’d sized up the situation and rationalized a way to buy herself some time. “Go on.”
“I sometimes overheard them talking. Mostly in Spanish, and my skills are rusty at best, but when one of the guys got really furious with me, another told him that he couldn’t kill me. Yet.”
Dare said nothing as he absorbed that and considered the possibilities. They’d been waiting for something. But what?
“They followed someone else’s instructions.”
“Maybe,” he agreed. Why else would they have kept her instead of selling her or killing her?
She met his gaze. “And then one of them said that…” She trailed off, distressed, angry.
Anticipating her answer, Dare leaned forward. “What?”
Her brows drew together, and she closed her eyes. “That I had surely learned a lesson.”
He dropped back in his chair. Unbelievable. Had someone hired her abductors to torture her with uncertainty, cruel treatment, fear and humiliation? If so, it would have to be someone with a lot of hatred and resentment.
Someone she knew.
But how could one small, average woman incur that much wrath?
“Anyone obvious?” When she didn’t reply, he said, “Come on, Molly, you know I’ll need some specifics before I can be of any real help to you.”
Sighing, she again gave up on the food. “Let’s just say it could be anyone from my father and his associates, to my ex-boyfriend, to a disgruntled reader.”
Her boyfriend? Then the rest of what she’d said registered. “Reader?”
Again she faced him, her shoulders back and her chin up. “I’m a writer.”
“Published?”
She blinked before saying, “Well…yeah.”
An unspoken duh sounded in her words. Dare shook his head. “I’ve never heard of you.”
Something flashed over her features, maybe defensiveness. Had she caught grief for writing?
“You must not read dark, sexy romantic suspense.” She tipped her head, not really proud, but maybe…smug. “My fourth book is being made into a movie. There’s even talk of Ryan Reynolds playing the lead.”
Inc
redulous, Dare whistled low under his breath. “Son of a bitch. You really can afford me, then?”
She picked up her fork with obvious renewed hunger. “For the breakfast—and with your agreement, a whole lot more.”
MOLLY KNEW SHE’D thrown him with the bombshell about her career. But she couldn’t hide her identity forever. What he said was true: if she wanted his help, and she did, then he’d have to know everything.
In good time.
The food was so delicious that she devoured it all—or at least what she hadn’t destroyed while fretting through her theories. Afterward, she felt fabulous. Well, maybe that was stretching things, but she felt more human than she had in too many days. That hollowness in her gut was now satisfied. She felt stronger, steadier.
Dare had remained silent until she popped the last bite of bacon into her mouth and settled back in her seat with a sigh. “Thank you.”
Flinty blue eyes, bright in the sunshine pouring through the window, scrutinized her. “You won’t be sick?”
She shook her head. “Nope. I feel fine.” And this time, it was true.
“Should I get more? Maybe some cake or pie?”
The courteous offer, in such a mild tone, was at odds with his expression. He looked harder than ever, more capable of deadly force.
She didn’t understand him, but she trusted him. “I’m full, but thank you.”
Surprising her with his lack of questions, he stood and headed for the door. “I already showered and shaved.”
“I slept through that?” Disturbing, but then, she’d been so exhausted…. “I’m usually a very light sleeper.”
“Extenuating circumstances,” he said. “You can have some privacy for…whatever. I’ll be back within the hour.”
He shut the door before she could ask him where he was going. She had the distinct feeling that she’d run him off. He was such an independent, skilled person that being around someone like her, someone so damned needy, would probably suffocate him.
Determined to withhold further complaints, Molly got up and went to the window to look out.
Usually, whenever she admitted to being a writer, the questions started. Where do you get your ideas? How long does it take to write a book? How much do you get paid? How did you get started? She heard them often, sometimes with disdain when people discovered that she wrote for entertainment, not to impress the literary world.
Used to be, people asked her why she hadn’t been on Oprah, or had her books been made into a movie, as if either was something in her control and easily accomplished. But with the recent movie deal, at least one of those questions had been replaced with another: Can I borrow some money?
Nearly everyone she knew wanted into her pocket. Friends she hadn’t known she had showed up with great regularity. And when they didn’t want money, they wanted an inside edge to meeting a celebrity, to hanging with the “in” crowd.
Molly snorted to herself. She hadn’t changed, but everyone now treated her differently.
Pushing open the window, she let in the fresh air. Their room faced the parking lot, and she saw Dare get into his rented van and drive toward Walmart again.
If she looked to the left, she could just see the turbulent ocean as it teased a sandy beach, sending surfers atop waves, and then crashing them down again. People in Windbreakers strolled with their leashed pets. Lovers walked hand in hand.
Molly sighed and decided she could use another shower while Dare was gone. Maybe with enough shampoo and conditioner, she could ease some of the gnarled snags in her hair.
Sometime later, while she still stood under the warm spray, she heard a knock on the bathroom door.
“Molly?”
He’d returned sooner than she’d expected—or she’d lingered longer than she meant to. “Be right out,” she called through the door.
“I got you some more clothes, so you don’t have to put the same ones on if you want to change.”
She chewed her lip. Yesterday he’d seen her in no more than a towel, but she hadn’t been capable of presenting herself any differently. Today, feeling stronger, she wanted to be less of an imposition on him.
“Just a second.” She stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around herself and cracked open the door. “You didn’t need to do that.”
His gaze dipped from her face to her barely visible right shoulder, and back up again. Handing in the bag, he said, “There’s more out here, but this ought to get you started. I stuck the toothbrush and toothpaste in there that I bought yesterday, too.”
Biting her lips in a long-standing habit, Molly nodded. “Thanks.”
He put a hand on the door, keeping her from closing it. “You sure you’re okay?”
Why her heart thundered that way, she couldn’t say. She did trust him. But now that she wasn’t so debilitated, everything seemed…different. More intimate somehow. “Almost like my old self.”
His eyes narrowed the smallest bit. “You still look shaky to me.”
A little, but that had more to do with talking to a big, powerful man while wearing only a towel than with her past ordeal. “Not at all.”
“You’re pale.”
Odd, since she felt flushed. “My natural coloring?”
He considered her a moment more and must have decided to let it go. “I’ll be here if you need anything.” He released the door and stepped away.
Breathless with some unidentifiable emotion, Molly closed the door, locked it with an audible click that made her wince, and dropped back against it.
From the moment she’d laid eyes on Dare, she’d been aware of his size, his strong shoulders, bulging biceps and broad chest. For her, his strength equaled safety. He’d proved a capable lifeline when she needed one most.
Now that she could think clearly and those awful shakes had mostly subsided…she saw him as a man.
And what a man.
Why hadn’t she noticed before how…how gorgeous he was? She was alone in a small hotel room with over six feet of sexiness. Windblown brown hair, piercing blue eyes, quiet control… Her heart continued to thunder.
She’d slept with him last night, curled tight along his side for comfort and security….
Oh, God.
Heat flooded her face, and she pressed her hands there. On the phone, he’d mentioned “his girls.” Did that mean daughters? Or maybe romantic involvements? And who had he been talking to? If he was in a relationship, had she inadvertently trespassed?
“Molly?”
Startled, she jumped away from the door. “Yes?”
“Are you going to finish your shower or not?”
Her eyes widened. Could he see through the damn door? Or was he just so attuned to everything and everyone that he heard her utter stillness in the bathroom?
She cleared her throat. “Yes, getting to it right now.” Then she frowned and added, “Turn on the television or something.” She didn’t want him listening to her every movement.
When she heard the TV turn on—loudly—she rummaged through the bag he’d given her.
Toothbrush and toothpaste! Absurdly excited, she ignored the clothes and went scouting through the rest of the items, finding lotion, nail clippers and an emery board, a razor, and better shampoo and conditioner.
God love the man. How could someone so gruff, so…deadly, also be so sensitive?
Thrilled, she climbed back in the shower with much of her stash. Unmindful of wasting water, she cleaned her teeth until her mouth felt fresh again. The shampoo and conditioner had a pleasing scent and went a long way toward making her hair feel less like a rag mop. She even shaved her legs, careful of the scrapes and uglier bruises.
By the time she finished her shower and dried off, her newfound energy had waned. But she wasn’t about to put on the new clothes he’d bought until she slathered on the lotion and clipped her ragged nails.
The clothes were similar to what he’d already brought her, just in different colors. Except for the panties; they remained pla
in white cotton.
Dressed, refreshed but tuckered out, she opened the door and stepped out to find Dare ignoring the blaring television as he stood to the side of the window, peering out. He looked suspicious of something, or someone.
Her heart tripped. Another threat? No—no, it couldn’t be.
Molly was about to query him when he said, without looking at her, “All done?”
She didn’t want to sit on the bed, so she went to the small table and pulled out a chair. Once again, he’d cleared away their breakfast mess. Dare did have a thing for order and cleanliness.
“I almost feel human again.” What did he see outside that window?
“Good.” He dropped the curtain and stepped back, then glanced at her. “We’re leaving here.”
“We are?”
With a nod, he said, “Today. I’ll see if I can get us a flight home, and if not, we’ll move to another hotel.”
A flight home? His home or hers? And then what?
Nothing had been decided. The threat to her existed as strongly as ever. Shaken and again uncertain, she accepted that something must have happened for him to react like this.
Or maybe he’d felt that spark of interest from her…and he wanted no part of it. Remembering his concern for his girls, Molly started to tremble. Who were they? Dare didn’t notice her reaction as he put in a call to “Chris” and gave instructions that she barely registered.
Was Chris his girlfriend? Or…more? She supposed Chris could be a male friend, or maybe just an employee or colleague.
She should just ask him—but his personal life was no business of hers.
Dare closed the phone, set it on the desk, crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her.
Her mouth went dry…until he said, “I bought the scissors you wanted. But before you use them, I want you to at least try to get the tangles out.”
IT ANNOYED DARE, THE way she insisted that she felt fine. Anyone could see that the remnants of her nightmare still dragged at her. He knew from experience that an emotional drain could be as bad as, sometimes worse than, physical exhaustion.
Silent, withdrawn from him, she ruthlessly tugged the wide-toothed comb through her hair. As much as Dare tried to ignore it, he…couldn’t.