When You Dare

by Lori Foster

  So much strength showed in his physique, without him being muscle-bound. Tall, strong, gorgeous… How was she supposed to resist that?

  He went to a drawer and pulled out sweats.

  Molly stopped staring and jumped out of the bed. That made the dogs attentive, too. “Dare, what are you doing?”

  “I’m usually up by six anyway.” He sat to pull on white socks and running shoes. “It’s a good time to jog with the dogs.”

  When they heard that, both dogs stood, ears perked, in preparation to following him.

  Glancing out the window, Molly saw the darkness. The whistling of wind sounded cold. And he’d still be sleeping if she hadn’t awakened him. “You’re going jogging now?”

  “Yeah.” He stood and pulled on a hooded sweatshirt. “I’ll wait for my coffee until I get back, but help yourself if you want it now. Otherwise, Chris will be over soon, and he’ll get it ready.”

  The dogs looked from Molly to Dare—and excitedly went to Dare.

  She trotted after all three of them as they started out of the room. “How long will you be gone?”

  “An hour or so. Maybe longer.” He turned, and she almost ran into him. Dare caught her shoulders. “After that, I’ll be downstairs working out for a little while.”

  Who crawled out of bed before dawn, ran and then worked out—without coffee? “You’re kidding.”

  He bent and kissed her hard and fast. Sargie barked, reminding them both that she had need of a grassy spot outside.

  “Take your time writing today. I don’t have any plans until the afternoon.” And with that, he turned and started down the hall.

  Molly stared after him. Plans? What plans did he have? And what did that have to do with her?

  Unless…he planned to take her home.

  The idea was both tantalizing and frightening. She probably had a dozen important calls to return; she could only imagine what her editor and her agent thought about her disappearing in the middle of negotiations. But going home meant she was that much closer to ending her association with Dare.

  Was he anxious to get rid of her? And if so, did it have anything to do with her botched seduction effort last night?

  She dredged up every word she’d said, and even though she tried to reassure herself, one fact come slamming back into her brain: Dare had been generous, but not interested enough to take what she had so freely offered.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  LONG AFTER THE FRONT door had closed behind Dare, Molly stood there in the dim hall trying to understand him. Finally she decided that caffeine would help, so after snagging jeans and the all-purpose hoodie, she went into the kitchen and got the coffee started.

  As it brewed, she went back to the room to clean her teeth and wash her face. Her hair was a mess, and she tried smoothing it with Dare’s comb, but she had no way of styling it. Blah. She looked terrible, and there was no way around it.

  She found a rubber band in the library desk drawer where she’d seen the office supplies, and she pulled her hair back into a high ponytail. That at least kept it out of her face and gave the semblance of order.

  It wasn’t until after her third cup of coffee that it really hit her: she looked like hell.

  Yes, of course she’d known it; she wasn’t obtuse about her own appearance. But in light of more important issues, she hadn’t really thought about it. She had so much on her mind, and so many adjustments, including the bombardment of feelings toward Dare….

  Oh, God, she’d come on to him all hot and heavy while looking her absolute worst. If he had been a more average guy, it might not have been so bad. But Dare was gorgeous, the most physically fit man she’d ever seen, and she looked like…well, a haggard victim.

  Groaning, Molly sat back in the desk chair where she’d been trying to work. The scene that she’d been polishing blurred in front of her. Not only was her hair frazzled and unkempt, but she had zip for makeup, and the physical mistreatment she’d suffered still showed in the hollowness of her eyes and the marks on her skin.

  She looked as wretched as a woman could look, so why had she thought that Dare would want her? Her come-on had probably been embarrassing and uncomfortable for him. Sure, he’d had an erection, but after all, he was a guy, so that didn’t really mean anything. Physical arousal did not equal personal interest—which Dare had proven last night.

  He’d been kind, telling her that he wanted her and that he only wanted to wait until she was truly ready.

  How much more ready could she have been? She’d all but begged him to have sex with her.

  And instead he’d given her an orgasm, then taken her to bed and slept with her held tight against him all night.

  What guy did that?

  Every male she’d ever known had made sex the number-one priority. It hadn’t taken seduction or even encouragement—a look was more than enough to get things rolling along. She couldn’t imagine any other man she’d dated ever turning down an offer for sex, not if he was attracted to the woman—and sometimes even if he wasn’t.

  Even though she accepted that Adrian had never really loved her, he’d wanted her. Or maybe not her specifically, but he had wanted sex. For certain, he’d never turned her down; in fact, when she’d been uninterested from illness or stress, or when she’d just been too busy, he’d still tried to insist.

  She’d accepted that as a natural way for men.

  Did Dare hold back because he wanted to be rid of her, even though they didn’t yet know the one responsible for her abduction? Maybe, to his mind, sex would complicate things and in some way obligate him.

  Too many unanswered questions made Molly’s head ache.

  When she heard Chris in the kitchen, she saved her file and went downstairs, hoping for some insight into Dare’s personality.

  Chris stood at the sink, staring out the kitchen window. Dressed in worn jeans and a faded sweatshirt with running shoes, he looked comfortable and handsome. She imagined he got plenty of attention wherever he went.

  AS SHE CAME THROUGH the doorway, Chris glanced over his shoulder at her, and his expression warmed. “Hey.”

  “Good morning.”

  “Thanks for making the coffee.” He looked her over, but then turned to stare out the window again.

  What was that about? Molly looked down at herself but saw nothing amiss. “I almost drank it all, too, so maybe you shouldn’t thank me.”

  Holding up a mug, he showed her that he’d already gotten his, and he had another pot brewing for Dare. “Dare likes it stronger.” Leaning against the counter, he nodded toward the window and said, “Did you see this?”

  “What?”

  “The sun rising over the lake.” He beckoned her forward. “Come here. I think you’ll like this.” And then, more to himself than her, “Somehow coffee tastes better with such an amazing background.”

  Intrigued, Molly walked over to the window, too. She bumped shoulders with Chris as she peered out, and her creative soul soaked in the sight.

  “Wow. It’s beautiful.” From this distance, higher up the sloping landscape, she could see through the trees to the dock and boathouse, and beyond. Wisps of fog, mysterious and magical, floated up from the glassy surface of the calm lake. In select, glistening places, the sunshine cut through and reflected back on itself. “It’s almost breathtaking.”

  Chris looked down at her. “Inspiring, huh?”

  “I’ll say.”

  “Looks like it’s going to be a gorgeous day.” He headed to the bar with a bowl of cold cereal. “Soon as I’m done with my breakfast, I’ll be driving into town to pick up your new clothes.”

  Reluctantly, Molly turned away from the scenery. “They’re in?”

  “Got an email confirming delivery.” His gaze never wavered from her, and when he realized he was staring, he asked abruptly, “Cereal?”

  “Oh, sure.” Not understanding him, Molly went for a bowl and spoon.

  “Dare will cook something hardier when he’s done downstairs,
but don’t hold your breath. He’s beating the heavy bag pretty hard today.” Expression enigmatic, Chris said, “Can’t imagine what has him so worked up.”

  “Cereal is fine.” Molly frowned as she joined him at the bar. Trying to sound cavalier, she said, “You say Dare’s worked up?”

  Chris blinked at her. “You couldn’t tell?”

  “I barely saw him this morning. Within minutes of being awake, he was dressed and off jogging.”

  “Mmm.” Chris coughed. “Well, all I can say is that Dare often takes out his frustrations in the basement. It’s always best to leave him to it.”

  Was Dare annoyed with her and exerting energy because of it? Trying to sidle in on that possibility, Molly said, “I think we might be going back to my place today.”

  “Yeah, he told me.” Chris shoveled in a heaping spoonful of cereal.

  Molly went blank. “He told you?”

  Chris nodded.

  Affronted, Molly sat back in her chair. So, Dare had shared his intentions with Chris, but not with her? “When?”

  “Last night, before he joined you down on the dock.” Catching on to her mood, he explained, “He told me so that I could pack for him and get the travel plans all set up.”

  She felt cantankerous enough to say, “You shoot up I-75—not much to plan, is there?”

  “Unless you’re Dare. Remember what I told you? He likes to arrange for every possibility. I’ve made note of gas stations, restaurants and…motels.”

  “Motels?” Molly paused with a spoonful of cereal almost to her mouth. That made no sense to her.

  Teasing, Chris said, “It’s a four-hour drive, five if you stop to eat. You really never know when you might need a…room.”

  Oh, for heaven’s sake. “Why would we…” And suddenly she caught on: Chris was referring to what he’d heard last night. From her.

  Aghast, Molly threw a piece of wet cereal at him, hitting him dead center in the chest. The cereal bounced off onto the table but left a spot of milk on his sweatshirt.

  Not even trying to hide his laughter, Chris snatched up the cereal and popped it into his mouth. “I’m all done here.” He rose from his seat. “If you see Dare, tell him I’ll be back within an hour.”

  With heat still throbbing in her face, Molly tried to play off her embarrassment. “Where are the dogs?”

  “Downstairs with Dare.” Chris walked toward her, paused to give her shoulder a squeeze and then whistled as he snatched up keys and left the kitchen.

  Dare had warned her about Chris, but he hadn’t mentioned how much the man liked to tease, and his lack of propriety.

  At a loss as to how to proceed, Molly took her time finishing her cereal. She didn’t even know herself anymore. Not only had Chris reminded her of last night, but she’d just behaved like a child by throwing her food at him.

  Propping her head on her fist, she wished she at least had the dogs for company. She’d gotten used to their constant shadowing. But it made sense that now that Dare was around they wanted to be with him. She could see how much he loved Tai and Sargie, and how much they loved him.

  It would help her to sort things out if she knew more about Dare. Things like how much time he actually spent away with his work. And more details about his work would be nice, too. He obviously did very well for himself, given his property and his ease in spending money. Did his career choice often involve killing monstrous bad guys? Or had her situation been somehow unique?

  Given the oddity of his work, when did he last have a steady girlfriend? Was a steady girlfriend even possible?

  Molly wanted to know about his family, other friends he might have, preferences and dislikes and…everything.

  She didn’t have Chris or the dogs to keep her company, but when the noise in the basement continued, she decided she’d do well to stay busy.

  After clearing away the breakfast mess, she dragged herself back upstairs to write. This time her attempts at that distraction didn’t last beyond a half hour. Her muse wouldn’t cooperate anymore.

  She tried going out the French doors for some fresh air, but instead she ended up staring at the dock and…remembering. Her skin tingled and warmed, and her body felt tight.

  Sometimes a steamy shower helped kick-start her muse. She spent almost half an hour under the hot spray, and even washed her hair again, adding extra conditioner. Afterward, her hair was fluffier and her skin glowed, but overall the effort was wasted.

  As Molly stared in the mirror, she couldn’t help but pay attention to the bruising that colored her skin. The once-purple marks were already fading to a sickly yellow and pale green.

  Her stomach twisted in that now-familiar way, wrenched by remembered fear and choking uncertainty. Those men had hurt her so much, not just physically, but her pride and her spirit. Never in her life had she been so scared, and so despondent. Never had she thought anything so awful could happen to her.

  Now she knew, and her life would never be the same.

  If it hadn’t been for Dare, she might be there still. Or she could have even been killed, and no one would have ever known what happened to her.

  But he had saved her. In a no-nonsense way, he’d reassured her, cared for her, protected her.

  And last night he had touched her, giving her new memories to focus on.

  The ugliness of captivity faded as she thought about Dare and how he’d made her feel. She almost felt it again, just remembering.

  Her pale, marred skin now had a becoming flush. Thanks to Dare and what he’d done, she looked better, but she couldn’t lie to herself.

  She was still an average thirty-year-old woman, and nothing would change that.

  To hell with it, Molly decided. She’d never been vain, and she wasn’t going to start now. She liked herself, and she was satisfied with her looks. No, she wasn’t glamorous or flashy. She would never turn heads. But neither would anyone call her a troll, even with a few discolored bruises.

  With new resolve, she went back downstairs and stood right outside the basement door. Dare worked for her, she reminded herself. In the end, she would be paying him an indeterminate yet surely hefty fee. That meant she was due a few answers, whether she had a romantic involvement with him or not.

  As soon as she opened the door, she could hear a steady punching sound accompanied by loud, hard music. At least she had one curiosity satisfied; Dare liked hard rock, just as she did. Surely music wouldn’t be the only thing they had in common.

  Her heart pounded in time to the beat. Putting her shoulders back, Molly descended the steps.

  EVEN BEFORE SHE showed herself, Dare sensed Molly’s approach. So did the dogs. They jumped up, and the tail-wagging began.

  Few people had ever encroached into his private workout territory, but oddly, he didn’t mind that she was here. In fact, he’d been thinking about her, wondering how her writing was going, and if she’d eaten.

  Worrying for anyone, especially a woman for whom he’d accepted responsibility, was new to Dare. He’d always been able to separate the liability of the job with emotional attachment.

  But with Molly, every damn thing seemed different, and very personal.

  When he felt her burning gaze on his back, he paused and looked toward her. As a man who always noted the smallest details, he realized right off that she’d taken extra care with her appearance. To impress him?

  His eyes narrowed at that thought. If the woman understood how much restraint it took to resist her, she wouldn’t be so comfortable with him.

  As their gazes locked, Molly tried for a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Holding back, she stayed a good distance from him, as if unsure of her welcome.

  That bugged him.

  Picking up a towel and wiping sweat from his face, Dare turned toward her. “You look nice, Molly.”

  Color tinged her cheeks. “Thank you.” And then, in a rush, “There’s really not much I can do. I mean, not without makeup and styling products for my hair—”

&nb
sp; “You look damned good without it.” He liked it that she didn’t spend hours in the bathroom primping. Or maybe she did under normal circumstances. He couldn’t know.

  He had to remember that in many ways, Molly was still a stranger to him.

  What he did know about her counted for a lot, though.

  She’d dealt rationally with her ordeal, forfeiting the expected hysterics as much from bone-deep pride as a commonsense need to survive. In a crisis, Molly would be a help, not a hindrance. Under pressure, she kept her wits about her.

  Most of all, he knew that she was a fighter. And damn, but he admired that. Too much.

  “So.” Aware of how she stared at his naked, sweaty chest—and lower—Dare studied her stiff posture. He sounded gruff when he asked, “Did you need something?”

  “No.” She looked around the gym area. “Not really.”

  Other than filling the basement with fitness gear, he’d never bothered to do anything with it. He had plenty of living space upstairs, and he sure as hell didn’t need fancy surroundings to stay in shape and break a sweat.

  In organized fashion, mats covered the concrete floor, and equipment hung from hooks in the walls. A refrigerator stocked with cold water sat along the back wall, and adjacent to that was a treadmill, an elliptical machine, a bench and weights, and other assorted exercise apparatus. He had a generous, tiled corner shower and a cabinet filled with towels.

  Picking up the stereo remote, Dare turned down the music. Molly had come to him for some reason, but she was being shy about speaking her mind. “Everything’s okay?”

  She nodded as she continued to look around.

  Not that there was all that much to see. Other than when it was cleaned and sanitized, no one ventured down here but him.

  Leaving the towel to drape around his neck, Dare went for a water bottle. Since Molly stayed silent, he supposed it was up to him to figure out the reason behind her visit. “Get much writing done?”

  Her gaze came back to him.

  Then went over him. Slowly.

  She drew in a shaky breath.