When You Dare

by Lori Foster

  Now she felt doubly bad. She moved away from him and shoved her hair from her face. “I’m sorry I did.”

  “You needed your rest.” Holding her chin, he bent and kissed her, lightly, easily. “You think you can get ready now? We don’t want to miss your dad.”

  She’d like to miss him. The last person she wanted to see was her father. He could be abrasive at the best of times, and this… Well, he wasn’t going to add to the festivities.

  But the reality was that the confrontation had to happen.

  “Sure.” Realizing that she was naked while Dare was dressed, Molly blushed. “Could I have some privacy?”

  He stared at her for a long time before his mouth curled into a grin. “All right.” He got up from the bed. “I’d like you to pack a bag, too. Take whatever you think you’ll need.”

  Not sure what to say to that, Molly looked around her room for inspiration and found none. “How long will I be gone?”

  He gave her another lingering look. “Pack enough for a few weeks, and we’ll see what happens.” And with that, he left the room.

  Molly took a few moments to catch her breath, but a peek at the clock told her she had to hustle if she wanted to pull it together in the right way. After washing, brushing her teeth and dressing in casual jeans, a red sweater and boots, she styled her hair and applied some makeup. Seeing herself in the mirror, she felt better, more like herself.

  Then she remembered everything she’d done with Dare, and a flush of heat brightened her skin. She put her hands to her cheeks and fought back the giddiness. No, she wasn’t like herself at all, at least not with Dare.

  Not sexually.

  With him, she always felt better than ever before—at everything.

  Hurrying so that Dare wouldn’t be waiting on her, she got out her briefcase first and stowed what she could of her manuscript, her flash drive, everything she thought she might need to continue working on her book. Remembering that both Chris and Dare had said they wanted to read her work, she found a few of the paperback copies in her closet and packed them, too. While in the closet, she found a replacement purse on the floor. Although she didn’t have her wallet, she’d feel more complete with a purse on her arm. She loaded it with a few essentials like a comb, lip gloss, a small mirror, mints…anything she thought she might need. Later, after they went to the bank, she’d put money in there, too.

  She did not like being dependent on Dare for everything. It was enough that he kept her safe without him paying her way, too.

  Next, she dragged her suitcase out from under the bed and packed the toiletries she used most often. She spotted the birth-control pills, and decided to get back on them ASAP. Any woman who was sexually active couldn’t be too careful. And she fully intended to stay sexually active with Dare.

  After taking one, she packed the rest in her purse. Assuming she wouldn’t need any dressier clothes, she folded in several pairs of jeans, sweaters and sweatshirts, underwear, bras, socks, another pair of shoes, her sneakers and two sets of pajamas.

  It was as she was placing those in that Dare looked in on her. He frowned at the ice-blue, very cute PJs on top of her case. “You won’t need those.”

  “They’re pajamas,” she told him, just in case he didn’t realize.

  He settled an incendiary gaze on her, studied her a moment with interest and moved closer. Distracted, he continued to look at her as he said, “We’ll be sleeping together.”

  She had assumed as much, but was glad to have it verified all the same. “Chris—”

  “Goes to his own place at night.” He tipped his head, examining her features with a touch of confusion. “I’m the only one who will see you, and you don’t have anything to hide from me.” His gaze dipped to her breasts. “I like looking at you.”

  Pleasure expanded inside her. “It’s still cold outside, especially in the evenings.”

  Now standing right in front of her, Dare touched his fingers to her cheek. “I’ll keep you plenty warm enough.”

  Oh, boy, did she believe him on that. Around Dare, she spent most of her time overheated. “Still, there might come a point when you want your privacy—”

  “No.”

  Just that, nothing more. But he sounded pretty sure about it. Molly tucked in her chin. “All the same, you might have to go off on business again—”

  “I won’t be leaving you.”

  Exasperated, she forged on without missing a beat. “Or I might want my privacy, so I think I’ll bring them along. Just in case.”

  For the longest time he watched her, until a slight smile transformed his stern expression. “There’s something so damn sexy about a take-charge woman.”

  The quick switch threw her; Dare had the strangest way of interpreting things.

  He continued to look her over, her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth.

  Discomfited by his probing stare, she finally said, “What?”

  “Sorry.” He shook his head. “Seeing you in makeup… It’s surprising.”

  Fidgeting, Molly asked, “In a good way, I hope?”

  “You look classy. Polished.” He bent for a quick kiss. “I got used to seeing you barefaced, but you always look good, never doubt it.”

  Did that mean he preferred her without makeup? “Thank you.”

  “One thing.” His gaze sharpened. “Did you spruce up for your father, or just because you wanted to?”

  Molly laughed with disdain. “Oh, trust me, Dad wouldn’t notice if I was bald and painted blue. But, yeah, Kathi can be critical. She’s really into appearances. Being snatched off the street and taken across the country for torment is no excuse for not looking your best.”

  Dare turned away with disgust. “Kathi sounds like a real twit.” Then he indicated her overflowing luggage. “You done with this?”

  Glad that he hadn’t mentioned how much she’d packed, Molly nodded. She didn’t want Dare to think she was moving in or taking advantage of his hospitality. But like most women, she liked to be prepared. “Yes, thank you.”

  “I’m not your stepmother.”

  She snorted. “An indisputable fact.”

  “I just meant that you don’t have to be all proper with me.” He closed the lid and lifted the heavy case off the bed without any effort at all. “You want to get your stuff together for the bank and the post office? I’d like to carry everything to my SUV in one trip.”

  Likely because he wanted to be at her side every second. Molly had been with him enough to understand how seriously he took his intent to keep her safe.

  “Sure.” She went into the kitchen to get a plastic grocery bag. She couldn’t help but notice that Dare had been busy. He’d found one of her big green plastic garbage bags and filled it with old food from the fridge and the empty pizza boxes and cola cans.

  Usually she recycled, but she couldn’t see making an issue of it now. That he’d done so much work in her kitchen amused her and at the same time made her feel like a slug. Hands on her hips, she told him, “You cleaned.”

  “I like to keep busy.” He helped her store her packages into the bag, and she gathered up the checks she needed to deposit. “You have your account numbers?”

  “I know them. But I do need to cancel my credit cards.”

  She could see him making a mental list when he said, “We have a lot to take care of today.”

  “If we go to the bank before the post office, I can get some money.” And maybe on the drive back to his place, they could stop for her to buy an actual wallet to keep the money in. But she’d broach that possibility later.

  At the mention of money, Dare started to say something, then wisely changed his mind. “If that’s what you want.”

  The long-suffering way he said that gave her pause. “I’m perfectly capable of paying my own way, you know. If I somehow made you think otherwise—”

  “No, it’s not that. I know you’re financially independent.” He nodded toward her bookcase—which he’d also straightened. “That’s quite
an impressive showing.”

  The bookcase held not only the books she liked to read, but many of her own in various formats. “I grabbed a few copies for you and Chris, with no obligation that you’ll have to read them.”

  “Thank you.” He used the side of his hand to tip up her face. “Anyone can see that you’re a successful woman. It’s just that I don’t want you to have to worry about financial stuff right now.”

  “I’ll feel better having my own money with me.”

  He rubbed a hand over his mouth, considered what she’d said and then gave in with a nod. “Yeah, I know I’d feel the same.” He cupped the back of her neck and kissed her. “Anything else?”

  The way he constantly kissed her and touched her was like a balm to her abused spirit. And it gave her hope that her affection was returned.

  “Molly?”

  She shook off the warmth of his attention. “Is it all right if I call my agent and editor, too?” She’d always been conscientious about her work, and wondering what they both thought plagued her. “I really need to get in touch with them. I’m sure they’re confused as to why I just disappeared.”

  “How about after we leave your dad’s?”

  “That’ll work. It’s too early right now anyway.” With all the arrangements made, Dare gathered up everything they had to take out. Molly turned off the lights, and they left the apartment.

  WITH EACH PASSING mile, Molly’s dread grew until finally they pulled into her father’s estate. Anxiety kept her chewing her lip, until Dare squeezed her thigh.

  “Relax, will you?”

  It amazed her that he paid almost no attention to her father’s obvious wealth. But then, she didn’t, either. For her, the massive estate represented only sadness.

  To her, Dare’s home was far more magnificent—and was about half the size of her father’s.

  She’d grown up knowing what material things meant to her dad and how skewed his priorities were. Bishop Alexander would do just about anything to maintain his wealth.

  Dare wasn’t like that at all. He was a man of substance, a man who had amassed wealth, but not at the expense of others. Just the opposite.

  “When Adrian first saw this,” she said, indicating the vast European-style home ahead of them down the long drive, “I swear he almost drooled.”

  Dare took off his mirrored sunglasses and leaned forward to look out the windshield as he slowed. But it wasn’t with awe.

  “The security is lacking. Anyone who can afford a home that size should have a gated and monitored entry.”

  Molly shrugged. “There are sensors around the grounds. But deer come through here, along with a lot of other wildlife, and they were forever setting off alarms. Dad gave up years ago and hired people to keep an eye on the place instead of technology.”

  “He keeps guards on staff?”

  “You could call them that. Natalie and I always called them sentries.” She grinned. “There’s always one around back, one around front, in rotating shifts.” She wrinkled her nose. “They act really cold, and they’re good at mean-mugging everyone. No smiling or chitchat. I don’t like them much.”

  “What about your stepmother? She likes them?”

  “Kathi is fine with anything Dad wants. Her biggest goal in life is to keep him happy.” As they neared the house, she saw the front guard step out and talk into a walkie-talkie–type device. “So ostentatious.”

  “How many rooms does the place have?”

  Seeing Dare in analytical mode always impressed her. He didn’t ask out of mere curiosity, but rather to get a sense of the layout. “Six bedrooms, seven and a half baths.”

  “What else?”

  “Hmm.” She thought about it for a second, trying to think what might be important to Dare. “Five sitting rooms. Five garage bays. A library and a gallery. Kitchen and breakfast room, of course, and a covered, outdoor salon.”

  “Master bedroom upstairs or down? Is the basement finished?”

  “There’s a master up and down, but unless they’ve changed it, Dad and Kathi’s bedroom is on the main floor. They have a wine cellar downstairs, and Dad has a work area, like with tools and stuff, that he seldom uses. Not much else.”

  The guard had come down the stairs to await Dare. He didn’t look happy.

  Come to that, Dare didn’t, either.

  “Do you know him?”

  “I’ve seen him before. I think his name is George Wallace, but I’m not certain,” Molly whispered. “It’s been a while since I visited.”

  Dare got out and, ignoring the armed man, came around to Molly’s door. He helped her out and then locked his car with the click of a remote.

  The man came to stand in front of them, deliberately blocking them. “Are you expected?”

  Molly started to step in front of Dare, but he stopped her. “George?”

  The guard’s expression went flinty. “Do I know you?”

  “Tell Bishop I’m here. And you might want to tell him that I’m coming in—” he stared into the man’s eyes “—one way or another. How much ruckus is caused is up to him.”

  Keeping his stony expression, George asked, “And you are?”

  Dare gave that eerie, mean smile of his. “He’ll know.”

  The sentry looked beyond Dare to Molly. “You’re one of the daughters?”

  Dare answered for her. “She’s none of your damned business.”

  Green eyes narrowing, the man back-stepped a few feet away and put in a call. A light breeze ruffled his dark hair; he wore a stark white dress shirt and tie, with his belt holster exposed. Though he spoke too softly for Molly to hear, she had a gut feeling that nothing got by Dare.

  After a minute, the man stowed his phone and approached again. “You can go up to the front door. Someone will let you in.”

  Unnerved by all the tension and more than ready to escape it, Molly started forward. Again Dare stopped her. He and the man did more staring, and although no words were exchanged, the guard must have understood, because after one laconic nod, he preceded Dare to the front door, rang the bell and then stepped to the side, where Dare could still see him.

  Under her breath, Molly asked, “You didn’t trust him?”

  “At my back? Hell, no.”

  A young Hispanic girl in a pale blue uniform answered the door and gestured them into the cavernous two-story foyer. As the girl moved away again, Dare made note of every door around them. Had he packed his gun? His knife? She peeked at the small of his back and saw that now-familiar bulge beneath his shirt.

  Strangely, knowing he was armed made her more at ease.

  He caught her gaze and easily interpreted her thoughts, because he told her, “With a weapon or without, no one is going to hurt you as long as you’re with me. You have my promise on that.”

  He spoke with so much confidence, Molly believed him. He would protect her from physical harm. Sadly, with her father, it was more the verbal abuse that she dreaded, and there’d be nothing Dare could do about that.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  HER FATHER WASN’T the one to greet them. Kathi came around the corner, heels clicking on the floor, her face full of smiles. Her chin-length, wavy brown hair danced around her face in a precise style that somehow managed to look casual. She wore dark designer jeans, pointy-toed ankle boots and a cozy cashmere sweater.

  “Molly! I must have missed your call. I’m afraid I wasn’t expecting you.”

  The mild rebuke didn’t faze Molly; she was used to it, whether she’d made an appointment to see her father or not. “There wasn’t time to call.”

  Kathi embraced her, kissed the air near her cheek and then held her back. “My, my, my.” She touched Molly’s hair. “It looks like you haven’t seen the inside of a salon in forever.”

  “It has been a while.”

  Kathi smiled and, as if she knew nothing of the kidnapping, said, “I know how you are. You start writing, and you forget everything else. Have you lost weight? That’s good, I suppo
se, but not if you’ve done it improperly.”

  Acutely aware of Dare beside her, Molly wanted to groan. “A few pounds, yes.” Being starved often had that effect.

  Did Kathi truly not know of her kidnapping? It wouldn’t be beyond her father not to share that news. But somehow, Molly thought she knew, and that made her inane chatter all the more annoying.

  “You have the darkest shadows under your eyes, too.” Appearing concerned, Kathi studied her face. “Aren’t you getting enough sleep?”

  “I sleep fine.” Now. Since crawling into Dare’s bed, she’d found it easy to relax and catch up on her sleep. “Those are bruises.”

  Kathi looked more closely, and she tsked. “Oh, dear. What have you done to yourself? You always were accident-prone. I’ve told you that yoga would give you added grace if only you’d—”

  Feeling the flush in her face, she cut off Kathi’s ridiculous banter and gestured toward Dare. “Kathi, this is Dare Macintosh. Dare, my stepmother, Kathi Berry-Alexander.”

  Having paid no attention to Dare until he was formally acknowledged by Molly, Kathi looked up at him. Fingers splayed over her throat, she whispered, “Oh, my.”

  Dare said nothing.

  Kathi held out a delicate, well-manicured hand. “Mr. Macintosh, how very nice to meet you. You’re a friend of Molly’s?”

  Dare didn’t miss a beat. He held Kathi’s hand for the briefest of greetings that barely passed for polite and said only, “Mrs. Alexander.”

  “Berry-Alexander.” Nonplussed by his lack of a response to her direct and social question, Kathi fiddled with the end of her hair. “Yes, well… I’m sorry that we’re ill prepared for guests. I was just finishing breakfast and was on my way out the door. We’re breaking ground on a new youth community building today.”

  And that explained the jeans, Molly thought. Not that anyone would mistake Kathi’s clothing as appropriate for dirt-digging.

  “We won’t hold you up.” As if Molly weren’t with him, Dare said, “I’m here to see Bishop.”

  Kathi’s strained smile wouldn’t have fooled anyone. “I’m so sorry.” She looked to Molly. “Of course he’d like to see you, you know that. It’s been forever since you visited.” She let out a breath and looked back to Dare. “But I’m afraid my husband is rushed, as well. He has an important business meeting this morning.”