by Lori Foster
“Don’t know yet.” And he didn’t want to think about it too much. He preferred to play it by ear, and take it one day at a time. He got out what he’d need to sauté the chicken and steam the vegetables. “Depends on how things go.”
“What does that mean?”
He looked up from his chore. “I’m going to take her back to her place, be with her when she sees family and then judge my next step.”
“So if things go well and you can wrap it up quick, maybe you won’t be bringing her back with you?”
“I didn’t say—”
Molly cleared her throat and both men looked up. She’d combed her wet hair straight back and dressed in one of the big shirts—with a bra beneath—and the jeans. Her bare feet poked out from under the denim. Dare straightened.
Chris stepped around him and held out a chair at the long granite bar. “Coffee or juice?”
Glancing away from Dare’s penetrating stare, she said, “Juice would be great. Thank you.” She visually explored the island gourmet kitchen with stone countertops and lots of stainless steel. It opened into a family room and the morning room, where they ate breakfast. “Every room is more amazing than the next.”
Dare said nothing. The second she’d entered, he again felt her tension.
The dogs came to investigate, sniffed her feet and dropped down beside her. Hell, Dare thought, even they felt protective, so why would he expect himself to be any different?
Maybe because he knew it wasn’t just protectiveness that he felt.
“I’ll have food ready in twenty minutes.”
“Sounds great. What can I do to help?”
“You can tell me why your readers could be suspects. And then we’ll go from there.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“READERS?” CHRIS DID a double take. What the hell did he mean by readers? Molly wrote? Like…what?
“She’s an author,” Dare told him as he began preparing the food. “One of her books is being made into a movie with Ryan Reynolds as the lead.”
Chris’s jaw loosened. Why did Dare just keep dropping bombshells on him? He’d already found her interesting, in part because Dare had brought her here, which was an aberration of the major kind.
But this was something altogether different.
“You’re shittin’ me.”
“Nice language, asshole.”
Chris waved that off. It wasn’t like Dare was any better. Hell, neither of them was used to having a female around the place—not counting Tai and Sargie, who didn’t care what language they heard as long as they got treats and plenty of attention.
As a genuine movie buff, Chris felt suitably impressed. But then, he’d already been impressed with her before that. Somehow, Molly didn’t fit his vision of the creative sort. She wasn’t…glamorous enough. And she seemed far too grounded, instead of artistic.
But hell, she’d just been rescued from kidnappers who had battered her pretty badly. Maybe under better circumstances she had more savoir faire.
As he considered it, he realized that Molly didn’t fit any stereotype familiar to him. Most people in her situation would be either demanding of attention or withdrawn and fearful. Not Molly. Perhaps she was different with Dare, in private.
But in his presence, she wasn’t intrusive, needy or whiney. In fact, she tried hard not to inconvenience them in any way.
Chris shook his head. He knew Dare expected him to resent female intrusion, and before Molly, he would have. He protected his position, and he always had Dare’s back.
With Molly, there was no threat—not of the type he’d always guarded against.
If anything, he fell in line with Dare, sharing the need to keep her safe and help her feel secure.
“Ryan is a possible lead,” Molly corrected. “We’re waiting for confirmation….” She looked oddly chagrined, then downcast. “Well, actually, it might have already been confirmed or denied, but I haven’t had access to a phone or computer or anything.”
“Soon,” Dare told her.
“God, this sucks. I have no idea what’s going on with my career. But I was so focused on…”
“Surviving?” Chris supplied.
“Well, yeah. I was surviving, and so caught up in…in just holding it together that I…” She trailed off with a groan.
“You’re a trouper,” Chris told her in a grand understatement.
“I hope my editor or agent hasn’t been trying to get hold of me. What would they think? We were right in the middle of negotiations on this thing before I… I…”
Chris set the juice before her and pulled up a chair. He took her hand, so small and female, and wished he could have helped Dare destroy the ones who had done this to her. “Getting snatched by thugs is so damned inconvenient, isn’t it?”
She choked on a laugh and nodded with exaggeration. “More so than I ever could have imagined.”
Dare shot him a look of warning, which almost made Chris roll his eyes. He had to be the least threatening guy Ms. Molly was likely to come into contact with.
Even if he wasn’t gay, he’d have no sexual interest in her. Dare had already staked a claim. End of story.
But was he supposed to ignore the fact that she was a famous writer? No, of course not. “How long did they have you, Molly?”
“Dare helped me to figure out that it was nine days.”
Good God. Nine days of unending fear, pain, despair… Nine days of hell.
Overwhelmed with emotions he’d seldom felt, Chris gently squeezed her hand. “Well, then, I take back my earlier thoughts. You actually look incredible, all things considered.”
She snorted at that and, pulling her hand away, smoothed her hair behind her ears in a female show of insecurity. “Yeah, if looking like death warmed over appeals to you.”
He helped her tuck away a wayward strand. “Actually, you only look wounded, which sometimes appeals to the big protective male.”
“Chris…”
He laughed at Dare. “What I really meant was that I thought there were two types of writers, the glamorous ones who donned feather boas and dripped diamonds, and the harried ones who lived in a fantasyland.”
“I’m far from glamorous, and I’m only harried when I’m in the middle of a book. And when that happens, I can forget I have hair, much less how to groom it.”
Before Chris could ask for more details, Dare said, “We’ll be going to your place soon. You can get updated on everything important then.”
“Soon as in…like, when?”
“Depends. Probably in a couple of days.” He put the thinly sliced chicken into a hot skillet with spices. “You said you live north of Cincinnati, right?”
Molly toyed with her glass of orange juice. “It’s a small community, but nice. My apartment building is pretty old and quaint, but it’s comfortable for me.”
“Good security?” Dare asked.
“Not really. I mean, compared to this fortress, it’s just a plain old building. We have floodlights in the parking lot, and the halls are well lit. But we don’t have any hired guards or anything.”
“Is the front door kept locked?”
“Well…no.”
Chris shared a look with Dare. Most people were never forced to face danger in daily living. But as Dare’s personal assistant, he knew only too well the peril that could invade a person’s life, especially a woman.
It made him ill to think of Molly alone and susceptible to danger.
“It’s not that bad,” she told both men, recognizing their expressions of concern. “The locks on each apartment are sturdy, and we all have dead bolts, too.”
Only a small part of Dare’s attention was on the food. “You said the building is old. Do the windows lock?”
“I guess most of them do.”
When Dare turned toward her in exasperation, she rushed to explain.
“I’m on the upper floor, so I never worried about it as much as the people on the ground floor might.”
“
It’s two stories? Do you have a fire escape?”
“Yes and yes.”
Chris always enjoyed seeing Dare in analytical mode. You could almost hear the gears turning as he figured things out in his mind.
“You need windows with secure locks.”
“Trust me, when I finally get my life back together, I’m going to be the most lock-happy woman you’ve ever met.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she shuddered. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to feel totally safe again.”
Dismissing that, probably because he was intent on ensuring her safety, Dare asked, “Busy area? Much traffic out front?”
“Not really, no. In fact, it’s really quiet. That’s…that’s how those men were able to grab me without anyone noticing. It’s a neighborhood of older people.” She breathed a little faster, a little more shallowly. “And it’s not that I’m oblivious to my surroundings, honest. I… I saw the old, rusty white van when I went out to the mailbox. But it just never occurred to me… I mean, why would I think that anyone wanted to grab me? It wasn’t the middle of the night, and I don’t live in the slums.”
Dare and Chris waited as she sorted the details out in her mind.
“I did wonder why it was just sitting there. Then, when I dropped my mail into the box, and I was ready to head back in, suddenly…” She faded off, staring at nothing in particular, sort of vacant and lost.
“Molly.”
Face pale, she lifted her gaze to Dare.
“They’re gone now, remember?”
Slowly, by small degrees, she gathered herself and nodded. “You killed them.”
“Yeah.”
Chris listened to the exchange in amazement. Dare had admitted that to her? He’d told her that he killed them? Un-fucking-believable.
Letting out a shuddering breath, she relaxed again. “Where I live, older cars aren’t uncommon, but usually they’re sedans or compacts, not vans.” She shook her head. “Other than early evening, when the old folks sit on their porches, there aren’t a lot of people outside to pay much attention to what’s going on.”
Molly was about the most fragile woman Chris had ever met, but she also put up one hell of a good front. And she had a very likable disposition that excluded any self-pity at all.
She was shaken, but she wasn’t damaged. Hoping his curiosity wouldn’t upset her, Chris asked, “How’d they get you all the way to Mexico?”
“I don’t really know. They…someone held me down, and another guy gave me a shot of something. I fought to stay alert, but there wasn’t anything I could do. I passed out. I came to a few times, but before I could get my bearings, they’d stick me with another needle, keeping me drugged. When I finally came around, we were driving again, but in a different car. Everything was different. It was so hot, and I felt sick. Then they dragged me into that awful little shack.” She swallowed hard. “It didn’t take me long to figure out that I was in Mexico. But I never found out why.”
Deliberately removing Molly from those memories, Dare went back to cooking and told Chris, “Get her address and find the easiest way to travel there.”
Chris heard the edge in Dare’s tone and knew he was affected by Molly’s unrelenting manner, too. “Right.”
“I’d prefer to drive if I can go up and back in one day, overnight at the most. If that’s not possible, then charter another flight.”
Anxious to help her in any way that he could, Chris went straight to the computer area. “Nothing commercial, right?”
“Not until I know what’s going on.”
“Another private flight? Is that much precaution really necessary?”
“Yes.” Dare left no room for argument. “It is.”
Molly fretted. “But we have to finish discussing our—” she glanced at Chris “—terms.” And then, in a lower voice, and with a frown, “Dare, I’m not sure I want to pay for two chartered flights.”
Chris choked on a laugh, saw her face and sucked it up. “Why don’t you give me the address while you and Dare hash that out?”
Begrudgingly, she shared her address but then turned on Dare. “We need to talk about this.”
“You already hired me, and you already agreed to do things my way.” He turned the chicken as if he didn’t have a single concern. “It’s too late to change your mind now.”
She tucked in her chin. “Dare, I do not have unlimited funds. The way an author is paid… Well, it’s sometimes feast or famine. I’m not saying I’m poor, because I’m not. I’m very comfortable financially. But I need to check my accounts and see when my next big check is due.”
“Don’t worry about it right now.” And then to Chris, “What’s taking you so long?”
Never before had Chris seen Dare disconcerted by a woman. Usually his word was law, period. Intriguing stuff—not that he’d dare say so.
Chris turned his attention to the computer and typed in the address Molly had given him. “Hmm. It’s not far at all.” He skipped past Dare and glanced back at Molly. “Are you up for a four-hour drive?”
Looking mulish, voice low, she said, “Whatever Dare wants is fine by me.”
Such a loaded statement, full of possible sexual innuendo.
Knowing Dare was already poised to verbally shut him down, Chris quickly held up a hand. He wasn’t about to say anything that might make Molly uncomfortable.
He got back to business and finished checking a map. “It’s looking good. A fairly straight shot. Morning soon enough for me to finalize things?”
“What’s to finalize?” Molly asked. “You have the route right there.”
“Dare likes details. Lots and lots of details. He’ll want me to include where to stop to eat, and if eating isn’t necessary, then possible locations for a bathroom break. Any construction in the area. Any landmarks that he’ll pass that might be conducive to sabotage—”
Dare interrupted to say, “Morning is soon enough.”
“You taking your SUV or a rental?”
“Mine is fine.”
“Got it.” Chris couldn’t help but give in to a grin. It wasn’t that Dare showed much emotion; on the surface, he was the same cool cucumber. But Chris knew him better than that.
Probably better than anyone.
Sure, Dare and Trace were close. Alani, too. But as Dare’s personal assistant, Chris was involved in every aspect of Dare’s life. That gave him insights that the others wouldn’t be privy to.
And right now, he knew the biggest source of his boss’s temperament was a bad case of lust. Given the little lady had just gotten through an extended spell of abuse, with a very uncertain future ahead, Dare was too noble to act on that lust. Even though, Chris observed, Molly seemed to have her own wealth of feelings for Dare. It was there in the way she watched him, her body language when he was near.
But that could be gratitude as much as anything, which Dare had to realize, too. Dare had saved her, had slain her dragons, and he was now protecting her.
There was more than enough room for misconstrued emotions—on both ends.
Poor Dare, to find himself in such a complex romantic situation. It was going to be interesting to see how things rolled out.
Chris turned around on the desk stool. “Did you want me to clean up after you’re done in here?”
“I can do it,” Molly volunteered.
“Morning is soon enough for that, too.” Dare checked the veggies with a fork and decided they were steamed enough.
Since Chris didn’t care much for cleaning—immaculate conditions were Dare’s forte—he finished off his juice and put the glass in the dishwasher. “I left messages on your desk in the library, but did you maybe want them on your bedroom desk instead?”
“That’d be fine.”
“Some of them were from Trace. I think he’s hoping to somehow help with your…” He started to say complication, but when he glanced at Molly, he decided to censor the usual mockery and instead nodded toward her with his head. “With her.”
�
��I’ll touch base with Trace tomorrow, but he should really just concentrate on Alani right now.”
“True,” Chris said. “I’ll put an updated calendar in your room, too, although the next few weeks are pretty clear—”
“Dare?”
They both looked at Molly.
Chris noted her unease.
Dare must’ve, too, given how he gave her his full attention. “What is it?”
Hesitation had her fidgeting, but in the next breath she straightened her shoulders. “You said you don’t want me signing in to any of my online accounts.”
“No, I don’t.” He served up the meal on two plates. “We don’t yet know who wanted you taken, and I don’t know how smart or connected that person might be, but someone with a little computer experience could trail you here through your online activity.”
“I don’t think I know anyone with those types of skills.”
“You didn’t think you knew anyone who would have you shanghaied to Mexico, either, right?”
Expression tight, she said, “Which is why I’m happy to defer to your expertise.”
Chris stared at her with new respect. A lot of people quailed under Dare’s intense manner, but the way Molly said that was patronizing as hell.
No quailing for her.
“The thing is,” Molly continued, “I need something more respectable to wear, especially if we’re going to be four hours on the road. And it’s not a complaint, but it’s downright cold here in Kentucky, and in Ohio, too. I’ll need some warmer things.”
Dare looked over her casual clothes and agreed. “I suppose you do.”
“I think she looks comfortable,” Chris said. “Sort of sloppy-cute.”
“That’s because you have the fashion sense of a goat.”
Glad that he’d led Dare into that one, Chris said, “So you don’t think she’s cute?”
“Excuse me?” Molly looked at each of them with clear censure. “Do you think we could use your account to do some online shopping? I know my credit-card numbers and can charge it to myself but have it delivered here overnight. I don’t need much, because once we get to my apartment, I can grab my own things.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Chris said before Dare could. “I’ll take care of it for you.”