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When You Dare
Lori Foster
THE TOUGHER THEY ARE, THE HARDER THEY FALL… Mercenary Dare Macintosh lives by one hard-and-fast rule: business should never be personal. If the price is right, he’ll take the mission. But then Molly Alexander asks him to help her track down the men who’d had her kidnapped and for the first time, Dare’s tempted to combine work with pleasure.Fiercely independent, Molly vows to trust no one until she’s uncovered the truth. Could the enemy be her powerful, estranged father? The ex-fiancé who still holds a grudge? Or the not-so-shy fan of her bestselling novels? As the danger heats up around them, the only anchor Molly has is Dare himself. But what she feels for him just might be the most frightening thing of all.




Praise for New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Lori Foster
“Foster writes smart, sexy, engaging characters.”
—New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan
“Known for her funny, sexy writing”
—Booklist
“Foster’s latest is pure entertainment and a joy to read.”
—RT Book Reviews on Back in Black
“Foster outwrites most of her peers.”
—Library Journal
“Intense, edgy and hot. Lori Foster delivers everything
you’re looking for in a romance.”
—New York Times bestselling author Jayne Ann
Krentz on Hard to Handle
“Lori Foster delivers the goods.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Tension, temptation, hot action, and hotter romance—
Lori Foster has it all! Hard to Handle is a knockout!”
—New York Times bestselling author
Elizabeth Lowell

When You
Dare

Lori Foster


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear Readers,
I’ve launched into a new series of über-Alpha hunks. The men are similar to private mercenaries, so they’re big, capable, a little dangerous and oh-so-sexy. When it comes to rescuing the innocent, they do what has to be done, however it has to be done. I like to call them my men who “walk the edge of honour.”
Stay tuned for the next two books in the series, Trace of Fever and Savour the Danger, coming soon.
To see more about the books, visit my website at www.LoriFoster.com. And feel free to chat with me on my Facebook fanpage: www.facebook.com/pages/LoriFoster/233405457965.
I’m very excited about this new series, and I hope you will be, too!


To Shana Schwer,
Thank you for lending me your fur babies, Sargie and Tai, to be featured as the Labs in the book. Your girls are truly beautiful, and I love their unique personalities.
I hope I did them justice!
Pet owners are truly wonderful people!
Lori

CHAPTER ONE
MIDNIGHT CAME AND went with only the quiet buzz of meager traffic along the beach. An occasional horn blew or tires squealed. Two people exited a bar nearby, laughing too loud before piling into an SUV and steering drunkenly onto the road.
In the shadows of a weed-ridden parking lot at the back of the rundown motel, no one noticed them. Avoiding the glow of the full yellow moon, they stood behind the south wall beneath a broken security lamp.
A lamp Dare Macintosh had broken.
Ocean breezes stirred the air and heightened his senses. While scanning the area and repeatedly peering at the black van he’d rented when first arriving in San Diego, Dare waited. His friend, Trace Rivers, embraced his younger sister with choking emotion.
It had been a long two days filled with frantic preparation, little sleep, less food and loads of pumping adrenaline: the conditions in which Dare operated best.
With the job done, and then some, he desperately wanted something to eat and a place to sleep. Even more than that, he wanted to check on the skinny, abused woman still out cold in the backseat of the van.
“Tell me,” Trace said, not to Alani, whom he kept crushed close, but to Dare.
After again glancing at the van, Dare nodded. He’d found Alani and returned her to Trace as he’d sworn to, but neither man knew yet what she had suffered.
“She was in Tijuana, as you said. Locked in a trailer with some other women in an isolated area.”
“Heavily guarded?”
“Yes.”
Trace drew a strained breath, and uttered what they both had known: “Human traffickers.”
Dare nodded. “Not much in the way of food or drinks. Dirty, airless with the windows screwed shut. They had the women …” He hesitated, knowing how Trace would take it, but he needed to know. “They were leashed, chained to grommets in the floor, with just enough chain to reach a toilet. No sink.”
“Fuckers.” Overcome with rage, Trace knotted his hand in his sister’s hair and squeezed her tighter, protectively.
She didn’t complain.
Trace never used coarse language in front of his sister, which meant he was on the ragged edge, barely aware of what he said or did. Dare looked away from them, understanding the lack of control.
He focused on the rented van. “I had to go through several lookouts and a few armed guards to get her out of there.”
“Quietly.” Trace made it a statement, not a question.
“There wasn’t much fuss.” Dare always worked in efficient silence; an alarm would have brought more armed guards, possibly too many for him to combat. As much as he wanted to kill them all, he hadn’t.
Only those most responsible.
By the time the empty trailer was discovered, Dare was already heading over the border into San Diego—where Trace waited. Over the years he’d built up alliances everywhere, and sometimes worked with the coyotes who made a living taking people back and forth over the border.
Thanks to those contacts, even with the extra cargo slumped in his backseat, no one had stopped him as he went through the border checkpoint. The van had been given only a cursory inspection, his weapons ignored, and the excuse of the women being tired—never mind that one was beaten and haggard, only half-dressed—had satisfied all questions.
Both men were damn good at what they did. But Trace couldn’t go after his sister himself as he’d wanted, because the men holding her knew what he looked like. Before he’d have even gotten close to Tijuana, Trace would have been spotted by lookouts.
So Dare had gone—and come back with more than he’d bargained for.
Making a small sound, Alani tucked her face in closer to her brother’s shoulder. The siblings shared blond hair and light brown eyes, but that’s where the physical similarities ended. Trace was thirty, of an age with Dare, eight years older than his sister. He stood six foot three and weighed over two hundred pounds—all of it muscle.
Next to him, Alani looked tiny and fragile and, presently, wounded. Even since Dare had removed her from the trailer, fresh bruises continued to show on her arms and around her narrow wrists. Because the bastards had planned to sell her, they hadn’t harmed her face.
Innocence was a huge commodity, and at twenty-two, having led a sheltered life, Alani gave off a definite vibe of innocence. Blond-haired, blue-eyed women brought the most profit, but he had a feeling that Alani’s golden-brown eyes, in contrast to her very fair hair, would have fascinated the sick pricks.
Dare prayed they hadn’t raped her, knowing a woman ill-used would bring less, but he left that uncomfortable discussion for Trace.
Hearing a noise like a soft moan, Dare zeroed in on the van with his senses on alert. He’d left the rear door open so he’d hear her if she moved, if she awoke…. But she did no more than readjust.
Three hours had passed since he’d carried her out of that trailer. Worry gnawed at him.
Why didn’t she awaken?
“Dare?” His eyes filled with pain, rage and relief, Trace whispered, “Thank you.”
Alani gave an audible swallow, and then she, too, said, “Yes, thank you. So much.”
Putting a hand on her shoulder, Dare replied without words. He’d known Alani for years, watched her grow up, and felt like a pseudo big brother in many ways. He’d attended her graduation, both from high school and college. He’d been there with Alani and Trace when they buried their parents.
They had become part of his hodgepodge family.
Two days ago human traffickers had snatched Alani outside her hotel while she vacationed near the beach. Tomorrow she would have been sold, and finding her after that might have become impossible.
Right now, what the siblings needed was time alone, and Dare needed to sort things out with his remaining passenger. “I should get going.”
Trace followed Dare’s attention toward the van, saw the slim, dirty foot that appeared out of the open rear-passenger door, and lifted one eyebrow in an expression of disbelief. “You have a passenger?”
“A small complication, that’s all.”
“You’re serious?”
Dare shrugged. “There were six women in that small trailer, Trace. Four of them were local and scattered as soon as I got them free.” He nodded his head toward the van. “That one was drugged, near starved, grimy.” And in many ways, even in the cramped confines of the rusty trailer, she’d been separated from the others, kept alone.
For certain, she wasn’t the typical woman kidnapped for the growing sex trade.
Trace grew curious in that quiet way of his. “An American … complication?”
“I think so.” From what he’d seen of her grubby face, she didn’t look foreign. “She hasn’t come to yet, so I haven’t been able to talk to her.”
Alani turned in her brother’s arms, and she, too, looked toward the van. “She fought them whenever she came to. She called them names and almost … egged them on.” Alani shivered in remembered fear. “It was so horrible. The men slapped her around for being mouthy, but she didn’t stop. She just cursed them more.”
Dare frowned. The little idiot might have been killed. “Foolhardy.”
“I think she was really … angry.” As if she couldn’t fathom such boldness, Alani took a breath. “Even when they held her down to force more drugs on her, she didn’t cry. She … raged.”
“Did she speak English?”
Nodding, Alani said, “She sounded American to me. I mean, no accent or anything.”
Considering all that, Dare said aloud, “She wasn’t there for the same purpose as the rest of you.”
“Probably not. Sometimes four or five of them would come in the trailer, but they’d stand around her and I couldn’t see what they did. As far as I could tell, they never really leered at her like …” She bit her lip, shivered again. “Like they did the rest of us. They never seemed to be sizing her up for anything. They just picked on her.”
Trace hugged her again. “It’s all right. You’re safe now.”
She nodded, shored up by the courage her brother had given her, and faced Dare. “She was there when we got there, already looking pretty bad. Once, before the men drugged her, she told me her name was Molly.”
“Molly what?”
Alani shook her head. “We weren’t supposed to talk, so I was afraid to ask her anything.”
Trace tucked her back in close and asked over her head, “What are you going to do with her now?”
“No idea.” Dare thought of her insubstantial weight when she’d been over his shoulder, of that tangled, light brown hair that had concealed much of her bruised face. “Hopefully someone will pay me for bringing her home.”
Without releasing her brother, Alani reached out and punched Dare for the callous comment. He grinned, caught her wrist and kissed her knuckles.
She’d been given a terrible fright, and two days had probably felt like a month, but Alani had spirit. She’d get through this, thank God.
But the other one … How long had they had her? And why? Impatient with thoughts of her, Dare said, “I gotta run.”
“Hold up a sec.” Trace caught his arm, then dug in his jeans pocket and pulled out a fat envelope.
Pissed, Dare took a step back. “What the hell is that?”
“Expenses. And don’t curse in front of Alani.”
Hell, just because he usually hired out didn’t mean he’d charge a friend—a brother. He’d have gone after Alani if he’d had to crawl the whole way. “I don’t need it.”
Solemn, Trace held the envelope out to him. “But I need you to take it.”
It hit Dare anew how difficult this was for Trace, not just that his sister had been hurt, but that he hadn’t been able to go after her himself.
Dare took the envelope. “Thanks.” He leaned in close. “And for future reference, I resolved the issue of you being recognized.” There was no one left who knew Trace.
Deep satisfaction glittered in Trace’s eyes. He gave a sharp nod. “I should have doubled the amount.”
“No.” Dare’s smile wasn’t friendly. “That was all my pleasure.”
With no further discussion of money, Trace and Alani said their goodbyes and left the lot in Trace’s silver Jag. They’d stay in an upscale hotel for the night and fly home tomorrow. Until then, Trace would keep his sister under very close guard.
Dare stood there, watching them until the purr of the engine faded and their taillights could no longer be seen. Moon shadows surrounded him. Night creatures gave a gentle call.
The peaceful ambiance didn’t deceive him.
Hands on his hips, he looked again toward the van.
Now what?
The hospital, with all those questions and a lack of answers?
A hotel room? That would be his preference, but not with a woman on the brink of death.
If she was on the brink of death. Drugs could be a real complication, giving false symptoms and concealing a true state of health. It was possible that if she’d just come to, she’d be okay.
But maybe not.
Dare needed her to drink, to eat. And it wouldn’t hurt to get the bugs out of her hair.
Before he even realized it, he strode that way, anxious to look in on her again.
One hand on the top of the open door, the other on the side of the car, Dare leaned in—and found her awake. Enormous, bruised eyes dominated her face.
Before he could register that she’d come around, he got a very dirty foot to the face. Hard.
He jerked back. “Son of a—”
The attack took him by surprise, and even with her meager strength, a heel to the nose hurt like hell. But he didn’t want to compound things by overreacting. She’d recovered with a vengeance and most probably a lot of confusion. Though blood trickled from his nose, Dare wasn’t disabled in any way.
With no help for it, he leaned into the backseat and, after a very brief struggle, pinned her down with her arms over her head, her legs caught under his.
Those large, slightly unfocused eyes glared at him. They were dark brown, like rich chocolate, and at the moment filled with a wealth of fear and rage.
She didn’t scream, thank God, just breathed hard and fast and strained against him.
“You’re safe now,” Dare told her while trying to control her in a way that wouldn’t allow her to hurt herself. “You’re in San Diego, not Mexico.”
She blinked fast, giving away her nervousness.
Dare sought the right words to reassure her. “I was there to retrieve a friend, one of the girls trapped in the trailer with you. And there you were, too, so …” Lacking a sound business argument for his decision, Dare rolled one shoulder. “So I took you.”
She stilled a little, wary, uncertain. Hopeful.
“Your options now are the hospital, hotel or police. Take your pick.”
Seconds ticked by. A drop of blood from his nose landed on her chest to mingle with dark bruises, numerous scratches and dirt. She didn’t flinch, and short of releasing her, there wasn’t much Dare could do about his bleeding nose.
Lifting her head, she looked beyond him, but it was dark, too dark to see and recognize the dubious safety of an American parking lot.
Then, just as suddenly as she’d attacked, she went limp, her head falling back, her muscles weak. Either from her recent exertion or continued terror, Dare felt a fine trembling in her slim body.
Voice quaking, she whispered, “Hotel, please.”
Unexpected.
But appreciated. “Wise choice.” He waited for theatrics, for that scream that didn’t come. Cautious, Dare eyed her. “I can let you go without more violence?”
She gave one jerky nod.
Slowly, he sat up and levered himself out of the van. She didn’t move. She didn’t look capable of moving.
Stripping off his shirt, he used it to clean the blood from his busted nose.
What to do now? If he went to the front desk to register them, would she try to skip out on him? Dare could see that she wasn’t yet herself, didn’t have much left of strength or composure. If panic sent her running, she wouldn’t get far, and could end up right back in trouble again.
But he couldn’t very well traipse her into the motel with him.
For one thing … she reeked.
Not that he held that against her. Thanks to the conditions he’d found her in, personal cleanliness would have been impossible. But to add to that, the space they’d provided her hadn’t been much better than a dump. He’d seen rat holes near the moldy mattress they’d supplied her, as well as a variety of bugs crawling around.
For another, she wore only a long T-shirt that didn’t quite reach her very dirty, scuffed knees, with another oversized man’s button-up shirt over it. The clothes dwarfed her small body, looking absurd. Mud and more caked her bare feet. Her brown hair looked like it had been through a blender.
While he tried to sort out his next move, she slowly sat upright, holding tightly to the back of the seat for balance. She swallowed convulsively. “Do you have anything to drink?”
Without a word, he opened the front passenger door and fetched a bottle of water from the floor. Knowing she was weak, he opened the cap and handed it to her.
He started to caution her about guzzling, but she didn’t. She sipped, made a sound of pleasure, sipped again. “Oh, God, that’s good. My throat is so dry, I think I could drink a river.”
“No problem.”
Sitting back against the seat, she closed her eyes, but only for a moment. “What day is it?”
Fascinating. Little by little, she pulled it together, and instead of hysterics, she wanted to make sense of the situation. Dare admired that—because it’s what he would have done. “March ninth. Monday.”
As if that made her head pound, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “They’ve … they’ve had me for nine days?” Lower, more to herself, she said, “I lost track, but … it felt so much longer.”
Dare gave a low whistle in surprise. Nine days—and she was still alive? Unheard of. Captured women were not kept around that long, because hanging on to them upped the risk of being caught. “You were in that same trailer the whole time?”
“The whole time.” Struggling with emotion, she sipped again, rolled her lips in and turned toward him. “I’m sorry about your nose. I wasn’t sure …”
“Don’t worry about it.” In his line of work, he’d had worse injuries. Already it had stopped bleeding, and probably wouldn’t even bruise.
For some reason, his reassurance made her look ready to cry. But she rallied. “I’m still a little woozy. I haven’t eaten for days.” She touched her hair and flinched. “God knows I need a shower. And a real bed would be like heaven.” She took a few more sips, swallowing painfully.
Dare watched her, impressed that she showed great intelligence in not gulping the water, which would probably have made her barf.
She scrubbed at a bruised eye with a small fist, then sighed. “I can’t very well be seen like this. Humiliation left me long ago, but it would raise too many questions.” She looked at him for a solution.
“I can check us in.” With each passing second, he grew confident that she wouldn’t skip out. She was more clear-headed, more reasonable than he could have hoped for, given what Alani had told him.
Again she sipped, and Dare knew it was to buy herself some time, to think for a quiet moment.
Holding the bottle tight, she drew a breath. “I have money, Mr….?”
“Just call me Dare.” He didn’t share his name, or his identity, lightly. He still didn’t know enough about her to trust her.
After a nod, she stuck out a dirty hand with chipped fingernails. “Molly Alexander.”
Ridiculous. But Dare took her very small hand in his. “Molly.”
Even though she’d initiated the handshake, his hold must have alarmed her; she drew back after barely touching him. “I have money to reimburse you, Dare. I promise. But obviously … not on me. For reasons I’d sooner go into later, I don’t want to involve the police in any of this.”
Interesting. What secrets could this skinny bit of a woman be hiding? “Ditto on hospitals?”
“Definitely.” She shrunk away at just the thought. “No hospitals.”
If she went to the hospital, they’d need a name, and then they’d want to call the police. Why didn’t she want them involved?
“You’ve been drugged.” Dare wondered what they’d given her, and if there would be any side effects. “You know, Molly, you could be sick, hurt—”
“No, not hurt.”
Her definition of hurt differed greatly from his. With a raised brow he eyed several bruises and scrapes on her delicate skin. “Someone hit you. More than once.”
Her eyes clouded again, and her voice went gruff. “Yes, and it was the worst experience of my entire life. But I’ll be fine.”
“Are you convincing me, or yourself?”
“I will be. I promise.”
Lots of promises, Dare thought. He glanced down at his bloodied, ruined shirt, and tossed it toward an overflowing garbage container in the parking lot. Intending to find a new shirt, he reached around her for his overnight bag.
Gasping, she covered her face and scuttled back into the corner of the seat. But she almost immediately caught herself and sat up again as if in challenge.
Unwilling to press her, Dare paused. “We’re on the same side, remember?”
Pained, she closed her eyes and nodded.
Gutsy little thing, he decided. He pulled on the fresh shirt and then waited, arms crossed. If she didn’t want to pass out in the van, she’d have to hurry it up and make a decision. Already she looked on the verge of keeling over.
After swaying from what looked like a wave of dizziness, she cleared her throat. “If you could arrange for a room tonight, I’d be really, really grateful.”
“I could do that.” Her continued formality confounded him. Most women would be babbling and crying for their mommy or daddy, or maybe a husband. Did Molly have a husband, a significant other?
Avoiding his gaze, she rolled her lips in again, took a few deep breaths and then whispered, “One room please, but perhaps with two beds.” Tears welled, and she blinked them away before saying in a voice broken by fear, “God’s truth, I don’t want to be alone right now.”
NOW THAT SHE WAS safely inside a small but clean motel room, Molly tried to organize her thoughts. In order to keep from collapsing, she had to prioritize her most immediate needs, which were food, clothes, sleep, shower …
One glance down at herself, and she shuddered. Shower first, definitely. Now that she was free, she wasn’t about to spend even one more night sleeping in her own filth. And as hungry as she was, she refused to eat with such dirty hands.
Mustering her flagging courage, she turned to Dare. He was so damn big, and very gruff. Seeing him without his shirt when they were still in the parking lot should have alarmed her; even in the moonlight, she’d detected several scars over his chest, rib cage and shoulders that looked like healed knife and bullet wounds. Even now that he was dressed again, doing no more than settling into the room, he looked powerful, with noticeable strength.
But after being threatened endlessly for nine days by the most corrupt animals imaginable, Molly knew foul intent when she saw it.
Dare wasn’t foul. She had the feeling he used his incredible strength to protect, not to inflict pain. Though he hadn’t been sent for her, had no promises of payment for his efforts, he’d rescued her rather than leave her behind.
And now, whether he realized it yet or not, he was stuck with her.
She would pay him—once she got his agreement to keep her safe. “Excuse me, please, but if I could impose further …”
“Look.” The big man turned away from the twin bed where he’d set a battered leather overnight bag. “Enough with the proper bullshit. You’ve been through hell, yes?”
Blue eyes, fringed by the thickest lashes, took her measure. The pulling of his black brows drove home just how disgusting her physical state was right now.
Molly nodded. “Absolutely.” Hell times ten. Never in her wildest imagination—and as many could attest, her imagination could be pretty wild at times—had she envisioned the awful scenario she’d survived.
But she had survived it. And now she had to figure out how to proceed while still protecting herself.
“I don’t need you to be formal.” He set the bottle of water on the nightstand by her. “I don’t need you to put on a good front, either. You’re a small woman, probably not weighing more than a buck ten.”
Molly glanced down at herself. She’d always weighed one twenty-five, but now … she just didn’t know. She had lost weight. But that much?
“You’re hurt,” Dare continued, “and hungry, tired, dehydrated and pretty damn dirty.”
Absurdly close to tears again, Molly scowled. “Your point?”
“If you want to fall apart, feel free. I sure as hell won’t judge you, and it’ll stay between us.”
How kind that Dare would offer to keep her confidences for her. “No, thank you.” She hadn’t survived that hell just to crumple up now. “I’ll be fine.”
He folded muscled arms over an equally muscled chest. Beard shadow roughened his jaw. His knuckles looked as if they’d recently struck something—or someone.
She sincerely hoped it was one of the pigs who’d treated her so badly.
“Suit yourself,” he said. “But I need you to drink that bottle of water, and then another after that. Slowly.”
Right. Water would be good—if only her stomach weren’t so jumpy.
“And the phony, unaffected act has got to go.”
Fresh anger wrung through her already aching muscles. “Look, buster, I’m not going to lose it now, got that?” She chugged a few sips of water and returned the bottle to the small table between the beds. Then she clutched it for support. Her knees wobbled; her voice went husky. “I’ve held it together this long, and not for you, not for anyone, am I going to let those miserable bastards break me down.”
One brow lifted in surprise as Dare studied her for long, silent moments, and then he shook his head with annoyance. “Sit down before you fall down.”
She didn’t take orders well, but this time she gladly sat. It required all her willpower not to sprawl back on the bed and just fade into oblivion. But if she did that, she’d wake just as dirty, and it turned her stomach to even think it.
Dare stopped in front of her. He examined the bottle of water and must have been satisfied—so far. “What do you want to do first?”
“Shower.” She needed to be clean again. “Oh, God, I want a shower.”
“I’ll get it started for you.” He hesitated. “Can you manage on your own?”
Her heart almost stopped. “Yes, of course.”
Still he didn’t move away. He crouched down in front of her, and his powerful thighs strained the material of faded denim. Those blue eyes were eerily intense as he studied her face. “You’re safe with me, Molly.”
“I … I know.” She sensed that much. She just didn’t have the wherewithal to start asking questions yet. Priorities, priorities.
“If you need help—”
“I’d stay dirty first.” She was quite certain about that. No way would she invite a man to bathe her. She shuddered at the thought.
His mouth flattened. “Suit yourself.” He straightened and started toward the tiny bathroom. “While you’re in there, I’m going to run across the street to grab you something to wear. I’m guessing a size six?”
Something to wear. Like her own personal angel, he would buy her clean clothes to put on after her shower.
God bless the man.
Those blasted tears threatened again, clogging Molly’s throat, making her nose feel stuffy. “Yes,” she croaked out around a giant lump of emotion. “Anything simple would be … wonderful. Something for my feet, too, please. Size seven. I’m not picky.”
She heard the water start, and through the open door she saw Dare set out towels, open the packaged soap, the shampoo and conditioner.
So remarkably considerate.
Her empty stomach cramped and recoiled, but she couldn’t think of food just yet. She tried a little more water, knowing he was right, that she had to get some fluids back into her system.
Moving with a silent grace uncommon to a man so large, he came back into the room. “I’ll get you a toothbrush, too. Anything else?”
There were so many things she needed that she couldn’t fathom a list just yet. Her dry and cracked lips hurt when she licked them. “Something bland to eat?”
“Already thought of that.” He paused by the door. “You sure you’ll be okay until I get back?”
After what she’d survived, no way would she risk herself in any way. “I’ll be very careful. If I get dizzy, I’ll shut off the water and just sit in the tub.”
Reluctant still, he stood there, and finally agreed with a nod. “Don’t put the chain on the door.”
As he spoke, he walked over to the desk to retrieve his belongings, including a big black gun and a very lethal-looking knife that folded together. The gun went into a holster at his back, fastened to the waistband of his jeans. He slipped the knife into a pocket, then covered the gun with the hem of his shirt. He treated the weapons as casually as he did his wallet and cell phone, fascinating Molly.
It would make her nervous just to touch either one.
He stopped in front of her again. “If you pass out, I want to be able to get in without breaking anything and causing a scene.”
“Okay.”
“I won’t be gone long,” he cautioned. “So don’t linger in there.”
If he didn’t leave soon, she’d be asleep before she could hit the shower. “No, I won’t.”
Using the edge of a fist, he brought her chin up so that she had to look at him. “You’re weaker than you realize.”
On the contrary, she was stronger than she’d ever imagined. But his concern was nice, so she only reiterated, “I’ll be fine.”
Frustration palpable, he ran a hand through short brown hair, nodded once and walked out.
He’d wanted to say more to her, Molly knew. He didn’t understand her lack of questions, her acceptance of him as her rescuer. But he didn’t push her, and she appreciated his restraint. Right now, all she could manage was the direst of necessities. And thinking that …
It took a lot of effort to drag herself up to her feet again, but she did it. The ragged, torn and stained shirts came over her head and with sublime satisfaction she stuffed them into the garbage can by the desk. Never again would those disgusting scraps of material touch her body.
She’d been denied underwear of any kind, so removing the shirts left her naked. One glance down at herself and Molly saw evidence of her ordeal in places she hadn’t considered. She remembered the rough treatment, being jerked, shoved, hit … Her breath caught.
No, she was away from there now, and she wouldn’t dwell on it.
Anxious for the long-denied comfort of warm water, she stepped into the shower’s spray.
Oh, heaven.
Though her every muscle trembled and the most pervasive weakness dragged at her, never had she appreciated a shower more. Lathering the soap into a washcloth, Molly scrubbed all over, determined to wash away the disgust she still felt.
She had to hurry to finish before the last of her strength waned. Already she felt faint, sick to her stomach, her knees quaking.
Lack of sleep provided a perpetual headache that burned behind her eyes and left her hollow.
With her skin now clean, she opened her mouth, filled it with fresh water, swished and spit, then used the cloth to clean her teeth as best she could.
She had to lean against the tiled wall to rest for a minute. Her head pounded with so many impossible problems for the future. But for now, for this moment, she was safe.
Safe. There had been times when she’d thought … when she’d been sure that they would kill her. They’d taken great pleasure in taunting her, slapping her, keeping her uncertain and on edge. Sleep had come in only fitful spurts, because sleep left her vulnerable to their intent—whatever their intent had been.
Her hands knotted into fists. Fear curdled with a rage so bright it sustained her. She struggled to fill her lungs with air, to beat down the raw panic that had accompanied her since being abducted.
So much to think about … but for now, she had only to worry about finishing her shower. Then eating.
And then sleeping without the fear of never waking again.
She drew one more breath before picking up the shampoo with a shaking hand. So many tangles knotted her hair that she decided she’d cut it—after it was clean—rather than brush them out. She lathered, rinsed, then lathered again. She refused to look down at the tub to see what had washed out of her hair.
Emptying the entire tiny bottle of conditioner onto her head, she worked it through, rinsed, and then … she had nothing left. No strength. No reserve. She couldn’t even dry herself. She barely got a towel around her hair and another around her body.
Stumbling back into the main room, Molly hit the bed hard, snuggled in and literally passed out.

CHAPTER TWO
DARE CAME IN QUIETLY, saw her curled on the bed and frowned. The towel barely covered her, and with her knees pulled up, he would get one hell of a peep show if he moved to the foot of the bed.
Not that he would. In many cases he lacked scruples; it was a hazard of the job. But with women, with this woman, he wasn’t about to take advantage. Despite her bravado and commonsense reaction to her nightmare, he’d never seen anyone more emotionally fragile.
Besides, the less involvement he had with her, unscrupulous or otherwise, the better. He needed to figure out what had happened to her, and the quickest way to safely remove her from his care.
He’d known she was spent, on the edge, but the fact that she hadn’t even pulled the covers over herself proved her level of exhaustion.
More than anything, she probably needed to eat. But should he wake her for that when she also needed sleep?
He wasn’t a fucking babysitter, but since he’d personally gotten her out of Mexico, he couldn’t very well just dump her somewhere. By rescuing her, he had accepted an implied responsibility.
Trying not to rattle the bags and juggling the food with his other purchases, Dare closed the door and locked it. A glance at the bedside clock showed the time at 1:30 a.m. He’d only been gone a half hour, tops.
Luckily the Walmart across the street stayed open twenty-four hours. He’d found not only clothes for her, but food, too. Dressing and feeding her would go a long way toward resolving her most pressing issues.
With barely a sound, he stowed the drinks in the tiny fridge and put her share of the food into the microwave to keep.
Removing his wallet, change and cell phone from his jeans, he placed them neatly on the desk. Next he took out his knife and the Glock 9mm he carried, and set them beside his other belongings. He stretched out his knotted muscles. Too many hours crawling over rough ground, ducking for cover and demolishing men without enough sleep or food had left him tense and weary.
After pulling a chair out from the round table, he opened the covering on his pancakes and coffee.
He’d taken only one bite when she stirred, sniffed the air and drowsily opened her eyes. Dare turned toward her.
She gave him a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look.
He studied her, a small bundle huddled tight on the bed, face still ravaged and eyes wounded. Never had he seen a woman look so vulnerable.
He swallowed his bite and, sounding as casual as he could under the circumstances, asked, “Hungry?”
She stared back, then struggled up to one elbow. Her expression changed, the wariness hidden beneath that intrepid bravado. “Starved. Literally.”
With all the dirt removed, her big eyes dominated her small features. More marks showed on her fair skin, one on her cheekbone and under her left eye, one on her throat, and a darker, angrier bruise on her right shoulder.
Dare thought of men hitting her, manhandling her, and bone-deep disgust ignited. He despised bullies of any kind, but a man who would hurt a woman was at the top of his list of assholes that needed a lesson.
She breathed deeply, her eyes closing and her nostrils flaring. “That smells so good.”
Out of his seat already, Dare fetched her food. “Do you want to sit here, or eat in the bed?”
She hesitated, looking down for a moment as if uncertain of her welcome, not wanting to inconvenience him. “Table please, but … I should dress first.”
“All right.” He set the food on the table and opened the bag of clothes, pulling out a few T-shirts, panties and a pair of pull-on cotton shorts. “You can get more stuff tomorrow if you feel up to it. Something warmer, maybe, and nicer for the plane ride. But for now, I figured this would fit.”
She didn’t look at the clothes. The arm she leaned on barely supported her, and her breath went choppy with effort.
Voice weak, strained, she said, “I’m sorry, but … I haven’t eaten in too long and I’m feeling kind of … faint.”
Dare straightened, going on alert. Would she pass out on him?
“If … if you could help me into the bathroom, I’ll dress in there.”
Shit. He did not want her passing out alone, maybe hitting her head. “Yeah, no problem.”
Dare moved to the bed and slipped an arm behind her, then drew her to her feet. She swayed into him, one hand clutching at his shirt and holding on for dear life.
She made no attempt to step away. He didn’t ask her to. “What would you like to do?”
“I can’t …” She choked, cleared her throat, and her voice was so low he barely heard her when she said, “This is embarrassing, but the shower …” She swallowed. “I think I’m depleted.”
Easing her back onto the bed, Dare knew he’d have to be firm to get her agreement. “Okay, Molly, listen up.” He kept his tone as impersonal as possible. “This isn’t a big deal. I can dress you. I can even feed you.”
She rolled in her lips with embarrassment, a habit he’d already noticed.
“It’s nothing I haven’t done before,” he lied.
That brought her dark eyes up to his.
Damn, but her eyes could melt a man’s soul. “I’m in the personal protection business. You’re not the first woman I’ve rescued. You’re not even in the worst shape.” Another lie. Most women he retrieved were found in the first forty-eight hours before too much damage had been done—or they weren’t found at all. “Okay?”
Still with her gaze locked on his, she nodded.
“Good girl.” He grabbed the clothes from the bag. He wasn’t really discomfited by the task, but he’d just as soon get past it.
Taking clothes off a woman, yeah, he had plenty of practice with that.
Dressing the near-dead … not so much.
“Panties first, okay?” He still had no idea what had been done to her, how she might have been tormented or used. If it was sexual in nature, then this would be doubly hard on her. “We’ll take this nice and slow, and if at any point you feel panicky, just tell me.”
“I won’t panic.”
He looked up at her. “Yeah, well, I’d just as soon not get kicked in the face again.”
For a split second, he thought he saw a slight smile on her bruised mouth. Then she looked away. “No, I won’t do that again.”
As Dare knelt down to work her small feet into the legs of the very plain cotton underwear, he noticed more scrapes and bruises. After she ate, he’d dig out the first-aid kit and patch her up.
When he had the panties up to her knees, he took her elbow and pulled her to her feet. “Hold on to my shoulders.”
She was so much shorter than him, maybe five-seven to his six-three, that, while he stood upright, holding his shoulders pretty much stretched her out.
He bent to the task and she leaned against him. She was surprisingly … soft for someone so thin. And she smelled good now, clean like shampoo and soap and warm, gentle woman.
In a shrill, nervous voice, she asked, “So, who did you rescue? Other than me?”
“A friend. Almost like a sister.” Her thighs were trim, firm. He did his best to look away as he dragged the underwear up under the damp towel. His knuckles dragged against her soft bottom, a bottom that wasn’t as skinny as he’d thought.
Not that her curves mattered. With her shivering against him, he felt more like a damned doctor than a man who’d been without sex for months. “Now the shirt.”
He took the damp towel off her head and tossed it aside. Her hair fell in tangled wet hanks to her bare shoulders. Her neck was long and graceful, her chin stubborn.
And she looked ready to drop with both weakness and degradation. She was not a woman used to needing help, he could tell, especially not with something so personal.
“Feel better being clean?” If he kept her talking, maybe this would be easier for her—and for him.
“You have no idea.” Dare pulled the shirt down over her head, and as soon as she popped free, she added, “Do you have any scissors?”
He had to practically lift her arms to get them through the armholes. Because a bra had been well beyond him, he’d bought the shirt big and loose. It fit over the bundled towel she had wrapped around herself. “Why?”
“I was going to cut it.”
“It?” He reached beneath the shirt and pulled away the bulky towel. Surprise stilled him for only a moment. Dirt, distress and injury had hidden it, but Molly Alexander had one hell of a rack.
And he felt like a grade-A prick for noticing.
“My hair.” Not quite defeated, but close, she sat back on the bed again. Face pale and mouth tight with strain, she kept her shoulders back, her bare knees and ankles squeezed together. “There’s no way I’ll get the tangles out. And truthfully … I just don’t care enough to try.”
She was not his problem, Dare reminded himself, and her hair sure as hell didn’t matter to him. But damn it, for whatever reason, he didn’t want her to give up now, not on anything.
“Let’s worry about it tomorrow, okay?” Taking her arm again, he got her upright and helped her step into the shorts. Decently dressed, clean, and marginally rested, she made quite a picture.
Sort of cute, but still very bedraggled and wearied, not to mention abused.
Dare led her to the table. “You sure you don’t want to do this in bed?”
A hoarse laugh huffed out. “I’ve been tied to a disgusting, filthy mattress for nine days, unable to sit up or walk or … anything. Trust me, I’d rather be at the table.”
The image sickened him. “Gotcha.”
He set juice in front of her. “Try to drink it all, okay? It’ll help.” Then he opened the microwave and pulled out her still-warm cup of soup.
“I know the pancakes probably smell good, and there’s enough for you if you want to give them a go, but I figured it might be too much—”
“It would be.” She drank a little of the juice, waited, then drank some more. “It’s been so long since I’ve eaten, I have to take it slow or I know I’ll be sick. And I’d rather be beaten than barf again.”
“Again?”
Her expression flattened with memories. As if the shock and humiliation still burned her, she didn’t look at him as she explained.
“At first they brought me corn tortillas and some kind of strong alcohol. I was afraid of what they’d do if I got drunk, so I wouldn’t drink it. But then they gave me the nastiest-looking water, like something out of a mud puddle. I didn’t trust that, either, and they tried to insist, but I just … couldn’t.” Her shoulders hunched a little as she drew into herself. Her voice lowered. “That’s when they started … drugging me.”
Dare set aside his fork. Hearing even a smidge of what she’d gone through made it near impossible to stay distanced; he wanted to go back and kill people all over again.
“After that, I couldn’t seem to resist when they told me to drink it, but I got … sick.” Her hands fisted, and her entire small body tightened. “It’s not like there was any place for that. I mean, not a bathroom or even a bucket. I … I soiled part of the small area they’d given me, and tossed up the pills they’d forced down my throat.”
Jesus. To imagine being a woman alone, afraid and sick, stuck in such an untenable position—he hid it from her, but it enraged him.
“They stood over me, furious, barking at me in a language I didn’t understand, but I got their meaning loud and clear, and I cleaned it up the best I could with the rags they threw at me. After that, they barely fed me. Usually only once a day, but at least the water they brought was cleaner, I guess to avoid a repeat of things.”
Motherfuckers.
“But then yesterday and today they brought me nothing at all. I don’t know why.”
She left out a lot of details, but Dare didn’t push her. He couldn’t begin to imagine how wretched it’d be to get ill while closed in that hot, airless little trailer. The feeling of helplessness was something he’d never experienced, but he knew it’d be different for a man.
Any woman held captive would be constantly under the fear of more than just physical abuse or neglect. She’d be terrified of rape.
Setting the soup and a spoon in front of her, Dare broached that topic. “They manhandled you a lot.”
She said nothing, just tasted her soup, groaned, and tasted it again.
“Molly … if you were hurt …” Idiot. She was so hurt that it pained him to think of it. Dare started over. “That is, if you were hurt in ways that aren’t easy for me to see, then a trip to the hospital would be a good idea.”
With each bite of soup, she looked more lethargic, as if the nourishment eased a terrible ache and allowed tiredness to take over again.
“Molly?”
“I can’t.” She took another swallow, but her eyes were getting heavy as color seeped back into her cheeks.
“Can’t what?”
Another swallow. The seconds ticked by. “I can’t … can’t talk about this now, can’t give you details, and I can’t go to the hospital.” She lifted her gaze to his. “Please, if we could talk about it in the morning, I’d be grateful.”
Damn it, he didn’t want to be responsible for her health. He stood to pace, trying to decide.
“Dare?”
He turned back to her, left eye twitching, jaw tight.
“I wasn’t raped. I swear.”
Something in him eased. He tried to read the truth in her eyes, but saw only bleak resistance there. He rubbed his bristly jaw. “You would tell me if you were sexually abused?”
“If I had been … I don’t know. I don’t know how I’d feel.” Despite her ordeal, her chin lifted. “But I wasn’t.”
Dare continued to study her. He could read most people, but this woman had so much emotion in her face, and so many secrets in her eyes, he just wasn’t sure.
“That … that isn’t what they wanted with me.”
Remembering how she’d been separated from the other women, kept unclean, neglected instead of primed … he believed her.
That’s what she wanted to talk about tomorrow, he realized. He nodded. “All right.”
She started to stand, albeit shakily, and Dare said, “Wait. Let me turn down the bed.”
He prepared it for her, much like he would for a child, then came back to her. “Do you need the bathroom first?”
Pale, trembling, she shook her head. “No.”
Knowing that decision was likely determined by her inability to make it there on her own, Dare took the choice away from her. “Of course you do.” After all, he’d been pushing fluids on her, and she’d obliged him.
Lifting her up, he carried her into the small tiled room. She weighed next to nothing and felt insubstantial, delicate, in his arms.
He set her down next to the john. “Okay?”
She grabbed the sink and held on. “Yes.”
Hardly, but he’d done as much as he could without causing her further embarrassment. “If you need me, I’ll be right outside the door. Just let me know when you’re finished.” He left her to it.
Leaning against the wall beside the door, thinking of what he’d learned, and what he hadn’t, Dare waited for her. Seconds later he heard her flush and then run water in the sink.
The door opened.
Eyes more closed than open, shuffling along like a zombie, Molly moved past him to the bed. Dare rushed to hold her arm, to steady her and steer her to the sheets.
“Sorry,” she mumbled as she literally tumbled to the mattress. “So tired.”
Worry gnawed on him again. Should he damn her objections and take her to the hospital anyway? Already she looked to be asleep. He knew firsthand how exhaustion, especially when amplified by hunger and dehydration, could weary a body and soul.
Seeing her there, looking peaceful for a change, he made up his mind. A few more hours shouldn’t hurt. If she wasn’t steadier after sleeping, he’d insist she get checked out by a physician.
Before he thought better of it, Dare smoothed back her hair. It was so thick that it hadn’t dried much, but a wet head was the least of her worries.
He pulled the sheet and blanket up to her chin, and heard her sigh. “Rest up, Molly Alexander. In the morning we’ll sort things out.”
No answer.
For more than a minute, Dare stared down at her, wondering what he was going to do with her. She’d held it together with an admirable iron will and unwavering determination. Despite her horrific ordeal, she’d been reasonable, practical and intelligent.
But it was what she hadn’t been that told him even more.
She hadn’t been anxious to report to the police, hadn’t even looked at his gun or the big knife he carried, and she hadn’t wanted to call anyone.
That was a first for Dare. It was his experience that men and women alike, when recovered from a dangerous situation, had someone they wanted to speak to ASAP, someone they wanted to reassure, or have reassure them.
Not Molly.
What a mystery she was.
As efficiently as he could, Dare spread out her hair on the pillow so it’d dry quicker. Valuing order in all aspects of his life, he took time to tidy the room and get rid of the empty food containers.
He put the gun and knife under his pillow. They made a familiar lump that gave him a specific peace of mind needed in his line of work.
After stripping down to his boxers, he neatly folded his clothes and put them away in his duffel bag, kept on the other side of the bed. With one more glance out at the still-quiet parking lot, he drew the heavy shades, putting the room in darkness, and crawled under the blankets. The aged air conditioner hummed and whistled as it sent cool air to swirl around the room; he’d been too many hours without rest.
Within minutes, he fell into a light sleep.
Hours later, a short, guttural sound of panic drew him from a vague dream. He had his gun in his hand and was on his feet before the sound had faded.
HEART PUNCHING, stomach cramping, Molly jerked upright in the bed. Her hands balled into fists and her throat burned from the scream that almost escaped. Almost. Someone loomed next to her, someone big.
“Molly?”
She knew that voice. Still tinged with panic, she took quick inventory of her surroundings. The unfamiliar bed didn’t crawl with bugs, and the usual stench of unwashed bodies, fear and sickness didn’t pervade the air.
Reality crashed back in, and with it shame, mortification and sadness. She gasped, blindly reaching out. “Dare?” Her hand hit something, maybe a hard thigh.
“Yeah, just me.” He set something heavy on the nightstand, and then his big body dipped the mattress and his hand touched her shoulder. “Bad dream?”
More like bad memories, but she didn’t want to go into that right now. Her breath shuddered in. “Yes. I’m so sorry I woke you.”
“You’re okay now?”
“I …” What could she say? That she’d never be okay again? Unacceptable, because that would mean they’d won, whoever they were. “Yes. Now I am.” Fear continued to rip through her in agonizing waves. “I’m sorry.”
“Enough with the apologies, okay?”
His gruff voice somehow reassured her. She nodded in the darkness, struggling to get her bearings. “I thought …”
“That you were back there again?” Cautiously, a little awkwardly, he drew her against him. “Don’t worry about it. It’s going to take you a while to shake it off.”
Then he put another bottle of water in her hand.
A near-hysterical laugh bubbled up, and she barely repressed it. Shake it off? Is that what he would do?
Probably. He was so much stronger, so much more capable than she.
She dutifully drank some water, then handed the bottle back to him. He set it aside, but then pulled her close.
Her cheek met the bare skin of his upper chest and fit neatly against the notch of his shoulder. So much heat emanated from him. He smelled good, too, clean and pure. And he felt even better, like strength, safety.
Her rescuer had nothing in common with the filthy, depraved animals who had imprisoned her, who had likely been hired to … do what with her?
Molly could hear his even, calm heartbeat, and it helped to slow her racing heart. Other than his initial, probably automatic gesture of comfort, Dare didn’t touch her. One of his hands rested lightly on her shoulder, un-moving but offering the knowledge that she was no longer alone or in danger.
“Dare?”
“Hmm?”
He seemed perfectly comfortable in their present position, as if he did this sort of thing all the time.
Molly wished she felt the same. Never in her life had she asked for comfort from another person. For her, this was all very awkward, but basic need, the need to survive, drove her now. “Would you mind if I just stayed like this for a few minutes?”
“No problem.” As if in affirmation, he coasted his hand up and down her back, then up again, to tangle in her hair. “At least your hair is mostly dry now.”
Another strangling, semi-ironic laugh almost slipped out. “Yeah, I’ve got that going for me.”
He was silent a moment, then said, “I didn’t think to ask earlier, but do you need any aspirin or anything?”
Molly shook her head. “I’m not sure what the pills were that they forced me to swallow, but I’d rather not take anything else for a while.”
“They were probably some kind of hallucinogen. Or maybe tranqs.”
Reminded of how the pills had made her feel, she stiffened, pushed back from him a little to look up at his barely visible face. “I detest being out of control.”
He went curiously still. “Now?”
“No, when they were doping me.” She remembered the lack of control over her sluggish limbs, how her mind dredged up such ridiculous, vague and misty dreams. Everything was surreal, implausible, insubstantial. “I don’t drink, and I never, ever took drugs. I’ve never even smoked pot. And then to have them force me … It was awful. Why would anyone ever drug themselves on purpose?”
He relaxed again. “No idea.”
She believed him. Dare was a man who enjoyed being in charge. He wouldn’t blunt that ability for the sake of kicks or a quick high.
More to herself than to him, Molly whispered, “I like being me, not a loopy version of me.”
He said nothing to that.
Needing to talk, to drive away the remnants of that dream, she again looked up at him. “The other women … You said you saved one, but there were others there, too. What happened to them?”
“Four of them were apparently local, because as soon as I freed them and told them it was clear, they took off.”
“I hope they’re all right.”
He shrugged. “They seemed to know right where they wanted to go.”
“Those men …” Damn it, she had difficulty finishing thoughts, much less sentences. “They were so cruel, taunting the women, pawing them.”
His muscles seemed to bulge. “The blond woman. They pawed her?”
Icy anger sounded in his tone. “Sometimes, but I got the impression she was too valuable to abuse. They said she’d bring a lot of money.” Now Molly soothed him, clutching his big shoulder. “She’s the one you saved? The one you said is like family?”
“Yes.”
She put her cheek against his chest again. “Where is she now?”
His hug was automatic, for them both. “With her brother. Safe.”
Safe. Such a strange concept, but Molly now knew that no one was ever really safe. “I’m glad. She’s so young.” His warmth seeped into her, making her drowsy again. “I tried talking to her, but she was too afraid.”
Looking down at her, he asked, “And you weren’t?”
“I’ve never in my life known that kind of fear.” The dark and quiet of the small room, the casualness of his touch, made it easier to talk. “Dare, can I tell you something?”
He shifted, almost like he was settling in for something monumental. “Yes.”
How to explain it? A prisoner was a prisoner—but she’d been imprisoned differently. “I wasn’t like the others.”
Rather than question her meaning, he just said, “I know.”
Did he? “Those girls were in their late teens or very early twenties, and they were all stunning. They were kept on one side of the trailer, with more opportunity to bathe. They were given clean clothes. Ridiculously revealing clothes, but still … And they had more food, more water. It was almost like the jerks wanted them to look good. Healthy, I mean.”
“Yeah, I know.”
But Molly frowned at her own words. “I’m not saying they had it any easier than I did. Captivity is captivity, and we were all miserable.”
“But?”
She swallowed. “But … I’m thirty years old.” She twisted to look up at him. “I know I’m plain. And even if I didn’t already know it, I’m not stupid.”
She heard something in his tone when he agreed. “No, you’re far from stupid.”
“They didn’t want me to sell, like they did the others.”
As if he’d already come to that conclusion himself, he said, “No, they didn’t. But then why did they take you? Do you know? Did they say anything?”
They had said plenty, most of it in Spanish. “I’ve gone over it again and again, and I think … I think someone must have paid them to.”
In the quiet security of that small motel room, she counted their breaths, waiting for Dare to react. By small degrees, his muscles again bunched and flexed.
But his hold remained gentle.
When he spoke, he sounded matter-of-fact, as if he believed her without further explanation. “Who?”
Molly squeezed her eyes shut, hating the reality of what her life had become. “That’s the conundrum, isn’t it? I have no idea who I can trust anymore.”
His hand smoothed over her hair, then cupped the back of her skull. “Do you think you can go back to sleep now?”
Not if she had to sleep alone. Hedging, she asked, “What time is it?”
“Doesn’t matter, does it? We’re not on a schedule yet.”
But she hated to further inconvenience him. He hadn’t been paid to come after her. He’d probably rescued her with the thought of dropping her on the other side of the border, someone else’s problem to deal with.
Unfortunately, she had no one else right now. “Do you have a flight to catch?”
Before he answered, he urged her back down in the bed. Her head sank into the soft pillow, and the clean sheets, though cheap and scratchy, smelled good. He stayed close as he all but tucked her in.
She should have been alarmed, having a man bending over her, especially a man of Dare’s size and obvious strength.
Instead, she felt more at ease than she had since being grabbed and stuffed into the back of an old van right in front of her own apartment building. She doubted the quaint community in southern Ohio would ever again feel boring to her.
Dare smoothed the covers over her shoulders. “When I’m on a mission like this, I can’t make plans too far in advance. If anything had gone wrong, if I hadn’t been able to get Alani out of there so easily, or if she’d already been moved, then I’d still be tracking her.”
“You wouldn’t have given up on finding her?”
“Never.”
The unwavering conviction in that one word reassured her. Alani was lucky to have someone like Dare caring for her. “How did you know where to look for her?”
He moved to her side, and when Molly thought he’d leave the bed—leave her—he instead propped his back against the headboard. After stretching out his long legs, he said, “I’ve been in this business a long time.”
“How long? You can’t be much older than me.”
“Thirty-two, so I’ve been at it for more than ten years.”
Fascinating. Molly folded a hand under her cheek and got comfortable. “You started young.”
With a shrug, he said, “It suits me.”
“Adrenaline junkie?” she guessed.
“And a control freak—which means I really understand how you detested being so powerless. I’d have hated it, too.”
But he wouldn’t have been so helpless against them. Somehow, Molly thought Dare would have found a way to not only escape, but to wipe the cretins out for good.
He took her silence for interest, which was okay because she found him intriguing. And listening to him kept her from stewing over her own awful predicament.
“I’m obsessive about details,” he told her. “That’s made me reliable enough to cultivate contacts everywhere, but Mexico is the easiest. For a fee, the coyotes can usually give me information I can’t uncover otherwise.”
“Coyotes? You mean the people who smuggle illegal aliens into the country?”
Dare nodded. “Yeah, but they’re also useful when you need help getting back out of Tijuana. It’s a sad fact that in many areas human trafficking isn’t that much of a secret, so plenty of people are usually in the loop about new acquisitions.”
She thought of the young Caucasian girl who’d been held in the trailer with her. “Your friend Alani had very unique coloring.”
He nodded. “That made it easier for others to remember her, but not that many got to see her. They were saving her for a big sale, I’m sure.”
Wretched, horrible men, to plan such a thing for a young girl. She hated them, all of them.
Now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, Molly could make out Dare’s profile. She remembered that thunk right before he’d joined her in the bed. “You have a gun with you.”
“On the nightstand,” he confirmed. “A Glock 9mm. Does it bother you?”
She shook her head.
When he said, “Good,” she realized that he could see her, too.
“May I see it?”
“You’ve already seen it.”
“I mean … hold it.”
He made a sound that could have passed for humor. “Hell, no.”
Well. Molly didn’t know if she should be offended or not. Then she thought of those awful men…. “Have you ever shot anyone?”
With no hesitation, Dare said, “Yes.”
Her heart pumped hard. She licked her lips, drew a breath. “Did you … shoot the men who were guarding the trailer?”
He looked at her again. After some consideration, he asked, “Why?”
Her voice sounded more raw than she intended, but Molly was helpless to state things any differently. “They’re brutal beasts who take pleasure in hurting women.”
“In hurting you,” he agreed with quiet sympathy.
Her nose stuffed up. Her throat tightened. “They …”
Oh, God, it was almost impossible to talk. Her voice kept breaking, going higher, weaker. But Dare didn’t prompt her, didn’t rush her. He just waited in supportive silence.
“They wanted to make me cry. They wanted to make me beg.” She sniffed, drew a breath. “Just for sport.”
Without a word, as if they knew each other well, he pulled her up against his chest and put his chin to the top of her head. After a few seconds, he said, “You know, Molly, if I could, I’d kill them for you again.”
She jerked, then whispered in awe, “Again?”
“Yeah.”
Dizziness assailed her. “So you did kill them?”
“Damn right.” He looked down at her. “They needed killing.”
“Yes, they did.” The men were gone; they couldn’t hurt her, or anyone else, ever again. As the tension eased out of her, her heavy eyelids sank down, almost closing.
Great relief came from the knowledge that they were gone forever.
Dawn began to creep through the heavy drapes, and for the first time in days, Molly greeted it with hope. “Dare?”
“Yeah?”
She hugged him tight. “Thank you.”

CHAPTER THREE
WHILE SIPPING COFFEE and watching her sleep, Dare went over possible scenarios for the day. First on the agenda, he had to decide what to do with Ms. Molly Alexander.
He couldn’t just dump her, because she shouldn’t be alone right now and didn’t seem to have anyone to go to. She refused the police, not that they could be of much help anyway. So, then … what to do with her?
It wasn’t like he could keep her.
He wanted to get back home to check on his girls, and thinking that, he lifted his cell phone and put in a call. Chris Chapey, his personal assistant, answered on the third ring.
“Hey, Dare. I want to hear some good news.”
Dare rolled his eyes. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t get Chris to answer the phone properly. Sure, Chris always checked the caller ID first, so he knew it was Dare, but still … “Alani is with Trace now.”
“Fucking-A. Perfect news.” But then, with more sensitivity: “She’s … okay, isn’t she?”
“Depends on your definition of okay, I guess. But I think she’ll recoup. It’s for certain that Trace won’t let her take another vacation without him—not for a hell of a long time.” Or until Alani had a man of her own to keep her safe.
“Can’t say as I blame him,” Chris said. “I assume that you got through things unscathed?”
He glanced toward Molly, asleep in the bed. A bed they’d shared—in the platonic sense. “More or less.”
“So, when are you going to be home?”
“Not sure yet. I have a—” Suddenly, as if she’d felt his gaze, Molly’s eyes opened. They were puffy from sleeping hard, and a little unfocused—until they locked on his. She again gave him that startled, caught look. “A complication.”
Showing no reaction to that, Molly rolled to her back a moment and yawned, then pushed back the covers and sat up. She gingerly stretched and winced. Beneath the now-wrinkled clothes, Dare noted once again that although she was thin, she still had an abundance of curves.
How the hell had he ever missed that? Not that he’d been checking her out, but it was a little hard to miss now that he had noticed.
Shoulders slumped, Molly sat on the edge of the bed for a minute, just breathing and maybe taking personal stock of aches and pains. He was willing to bet she had plenty of them.
Finally, with a deep sigh, she stood and padded barefoot for the bathroom. He noted some definite curves in the back, too, defined beneath the body-hugging shorts and loose T-shirt.
She looked less wobbly today, so the sleep and food must have done the trick.
When she shut the door, Dare realized that Chris was talking to him and he hadn’t heard a word.
“I need to go.”
Chris snorted. “No being cryptic, boss man. If you’re in trouble—”
“I’m not.”
“Then what’s the complication?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.” He hoped. “Everything will be fine.” Somehow he’d make that true. “I’ll call you later when I finalize my plans.”
Molly emerged from the bathroom, her face damp, her thick, tangled hair everywhere. But today, rather than looking like a wreck, her wild hair just looked … freshly tumbled.
She came over to sniff the coffee, lifted a cup in hopeful question, and Dare nodded.
She mouthed a heartfelt, Thank you.
In the bright sunlight, her brown eyes looked less wary, but the bruising under and around them had deepened.
Shit.
Dare gave his attention back to Chris. “Give the girls some hugs from me.”
“I’m keeping them happy, don’t worry.”
He never did. He trusted Chris with his life—and his girls. “Later.”
Dare closed the phone and eyed Molly. She avoided his gaze, which he found curious. “How do you feel? And don’t sugarcoat it.”
Her lips curved in the briefest smile. “Glad to be alive and free. But also achy, still a little tired. And starved.” She peered at the arrangement of food. “Not to impose, but is any of this up for grabs?”
“I’ve already finished, so help yourself.” He watched her sit and open up all three containers, finding scrambled eggs, bacon and toast.
Her eyes widened, then narrowed with hunger. “It’s an absolute feast.”
“Hardly that.” Her mood this morning threw him. He hadn’t expected her to be … chipper. Or maybe it was more complacent. Either way, he’d been prepared for the shock to take hold.
Instead, she behaved as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
“For me, this is the most delicious-looking food I’ve seen in far too long, so thank you. And don’t worry, I really do have money to repay you for everything. Just keep a tally of it all, if you don’t mind. My math skills have always been lacking and … I don’t have a notepad or pen.” She glanced up at him. “At least, not with me.”
Discolorations in blue, purple, green and black marred her skin from her eyes down to her toes, and she spoke as if the cost of a diner breakfast mattered.
“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.”
Incredulous, 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 plain 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.
Shoving away from the window and the beat-up red Ford truck he’d been watching, he stalked to her chair, pulled it from the table so he could get behind her, and said, “Let me have it.”
Twisting around to stare up at him, she asked, “What?”
“The comb.” He took it from her hand. “You’re just yanking through the tangles.”
Her eyes widened at him. “Because it’ll take all day otherwise.”
“You need to learn some patience.” Lifting a hank of hair, he started at the bottom and used his fingers to separate the biggest tangles, then eased the comb through, working his way up until that hank of hair was smooth. When he finished, he went on to the next section.
Frozen, too quiet, Molly never objected when the comb snagged and pulled. He needed to get her talking again. Before they left the room, he wanted to know as much about her as he could.
“You mentioned a boyfriend.”
“Ex.”
That implied a conflict—possibly big enough to account for an abduction and deliberate mistreatment? “Tell me what happened.”
She shrugged. “He wanted me to buy him rims for his car. I refused. We argued, and … things just fell apart.”
Unable to imagine that, Dare frowned. “Why would he want you to buy him rims?”
One shoulder lifted. “I’d gotten a big check from the movie deal, so I guess he figured I could afford it.” She tilted her head around to see him. “He wasn’t the only one who thought I should have been bestowing gifts. Actually, just about everyone thought I should share.”
“I don’t know about everyone, but your boyfriend sounds like an ass.”
“Ex.” Her laughter surprised him. “And I guess he is. But I didn’t know that until my career took off. Before that, he was generous and fun. It’s not like he’s a pauper himself. Adrian owns a bar, and it does pretty good.”
With the back of her hair now smooth, Dare moved to her side. “So, just out of the blue, he asked you to buy him things?”
“Sort of.”
He watched her profile as he worked through the tangles and saw her chin tighten in memory.
“We were heading home after lunch, and he pulled into this specialty shop, saying he wanted to look at some things. Car stuff bores me, but I went in and waited around while he and a salesman talked for what felt like forever. Then he came over to me and showed me the rims he wanted.” She shook her head. “I know nothing about rims, so I just oohed and aahed over them, you know?”
Dare nodded. “Patronized him.”
“Well … Yes, I guess.”
Dare didn’t fault her for that. “And?”
“He told me he couldn’t afford them. So I asked why we were there, then, and he got frustrated with me.”
Molly Alexander was an upfront, tell-it-like-it-is kind of woman. Subterfuge would be wasted on her. Imagining it almost made Dare smile. “You weren’t picking up on his cues.”
“Apparently not.” She moved suddenly, saying, “Really, Dare, I could finish this.”
He held the comb out of her reach. “You had your chance.” He liked to finish what he started. And besides, he was sort of enjoying it.
Resigned, Molly crossed her legs and arms and shrugged.
Prompting her, Dare said, “You argued over the rims? There at the shop?”
“More or less. When he flat out said that I could afford them, and he wanted them, I just laughed. I mean, what do I want with rims? It’s not so much that he asked me to buy him things, but how he did it. Just … demanding almost. And then he got furious, causing a big scene.”
Dare shook his head.
“It was ridiculous and embarrassing, and when I told him to knock it off, he stormed out.”
“Must have been an uncomfortable ride home.” Although he figured that in most situations, Molly could hold her own.
She snorted. “I wouldn’t know. I took a cab.”
“He left without you?”
“He was still railing when I left the store to follow him, so I refused to get in the car until he calmed down. Calming down wasn’t his priority, so, yeah, he left me standing there.” She let out a long breath. “And for me, that was that. Later, Adrian tried apologizing, but I’m not big on public humiliation.”
“Few people are.”
“There’d been little things before then, and it all added up. The scene in the car shop was enough for me to realize how his true colors had begun to show once I started making more money with my writing. I made a choice not to be used.”
At least she hadn’t been in love with him, Dare thought. A woman in love didn’t let a few money disagreements, regardless of how unpleasant they might be, end things. “All done.”
She ran a hand over her hair, then looked at the small pile of hair on the table, comprised of the knots they’d pulled free and had to remove from the comb.
“Looks like we killed a rat.”
He almost smiled—and his cell rang. While he answered the call from Chris, Molly tidied up again, then took the brush he’d bought and went into the bathroom. He heard the blow-dryer turn on with a loud whir. She closed the door to spare him the noise.
“What do you have for me, Chris?”
“Your ticket, plus one, leaving SDM in three hours on a private Beechjet with seating for seven. I know that’s quick, but you said ASAP, right? Can you make that okay?”
Chris knew to always lead with the details. “You checked out the pilots?”
“Yup. Squeaky-clean records for both of them.”
“Then, yeah, we’ll be there.”
“One of the pilots gave me his number, so take it down just in case. He said with what you’re paying him, he can be flexible.”
Dare shook his head. Chris took far too much enjoyment in spending his money. After he’d written down the pilot’s name and cell number and stowed the paper in his pocket, Dare decided to clue Chris in. “Just so you know, I’m bringing plus one home with me.”
Chris fell silent, but it didn’t last long. “No shit? A girl?”
“Woman.” Dare again looked out at the parking lot. The truck was gone, but he didn’t trust it. He sensed they were being watched, and he fucking well didn’t like it.
“And you’re bringing her here?”
Yeah, unheard of. He’d kept his home sacrosanct from his business, but…. “It’s complicated.” Molly was nowhere near ready to travel yet. The long trip back to Kentucky would be grueling for her. But right now, it was the only way he knew to keep her safe until he got things figured out. “She’s hiring me to protect her.”
“From what?”
Dare dropped the curtain and looked toward the bathroom door. He pictured her in there, worn out but determined to get her hair dried. She was an enigma with a huge problem.
He shook his head, more at himself than for any other reason. “Honestly, Chris, I wish to hell I knew.”

CHAPTER FOUR
WHEN MOLLY EMERGED looking like a different woman, Dare did a double take. Her hair was … really nice; not the plain brown he’d assumed but a light brown with red and gold highlights that looked natural instead of salon-created.
Seeing it semi-fixed, soft and curling around her face, altered her appearance drastically, giving her a very feminine edge that was only enhanced by the vulnerability still visible from her bruises and tiredness.
Who knew a woman’s hair played such a major role in her looks?
It was, Dare supposed, one of the many secrets to female routines. Not that he had a lot of experience with that, since he’d never been involved with any one woman long enough to dwell on her personal-grooming habits.
With the limited means at hand, Molly’s hair was far from polished, hanging loose and shining to just below her shoulders. As Dare stared at her, she tucked one side behind her ear.
To cover his surprise, Dare said, “We’re flying out in three hours.”
Her eyes flared. “Okay. But … going where, exactly?”
As if he dragged home rescue victims on a regular basis, Dare shrugged. “My place, first. I have a few things I have to do at home. Then I’ll accompany you to your place.”
Taking his words like a blow, she went to the bed and gingerly sat at the edge. “Oh. Okay.”
“I’ll be with you.”
She tried a smile that fell flat.
“Molly. You have to go back to your place sooner or later, right?”
“Of course I do.” She put her shoulders back in telling reaction. “I need to talk with my editor and agent. I have … plants to water.” She chewed her lip. “I need my flash drives and my own clothes and …” She shook her head. “Going back will be good.”
Had she considered refusing? Dare frowned, then retrieved the first-aid kit from his bag. Given his line of work, he carried a more extensive supply of medicines and bandages than what was found in an average first-aid kit. He dragged a chair over and turned it to face her.
When he sat, he looked at her and saw again that she avoided his gaze. “That’s it? Wholehearted acceptance, but no questions?”
She inhaled, expanding that impressive chest so that she filled out the oversized shirt. Her gaze skittered up to meet his. “You don’t seem real forthcoming with information, and I don’t want to do anything to make you regret your decision to stick with me.”
An upfront answer. He should have known where her thoughts had taken her. “You think you’ve been a big imposition?”
She eyed the first-aid kit warily, but didn’t mention it. “If not for me, you’d already be home, right? Instead, you had to deal with me and my problems. I don’t like being dependent on anyone, and I really don’t like putting you out.”
“Since we’re flying out today, I was only delayed one night. And if you mean the clothes and food—”
“Well, that and …” Her tongue flicked over her bottom lip with nervousness. “Sleeping with you.”
There was that. “You had a nightmare. Don’t worry about it.”
She glanced up and away. “Logically I know I’m okay now, but at night, in the dark …”
“Yeah.” He’d saved women before, but he hadn’t slept with them. Hell, he’d had sex with plenty of women without sleeping with them.
“Usually,” he said, “once I have a woman out of harm’s way, she goes immediately to someone else—someone she trusts. Most often it’s the person who paid me to get her out in the first place.” And if the woman had nightmares, well, she had someone other than Dare to get her through it.
Molly nodded. “And with me, you not only haven’t been paid, you’re sort of stuck with me.”
“Not stuck, no.” He’d made the decision that she would remain with him. He never allowed others to coerce him, not in any way. “But understand, Molly—for now, I’m going to keep you safe. After I figure out the threat and decide how best to resolve it, then we’ll come to terms on our agreement.”
“Financially, you mean.”
What else? He nodded affirmation, but said, “That, and more.”
“Such as …?”
He opened the first-aid kit. “If I’m going to be in charge of your safety, you have to follow my directions to the letter. No balking, no arguments.”
She licked her lips again—and nodded.
“Good. We’ll start with me checking out some of these cuts and scrapes that you have. The last thing you need is an infection.” He looked at her. “Give me your arm.”
As if only then realizing that she might have cuts, Molly looked at each arm. “I can take care of it.”
“I can take care of it better.”
“Who says?”
“I say.” Hadn’t he already proven his capability with her hair?
Dare caught her arm and pulled her forward to reach the injury. Ignoring her protestation, he said, “This’ll sting a little.” He swiped the cut with the antiseptic and heard her hiss in a breath, but she didn’t move and she didn’t complain. The cut wasn’t deep and didn’t need stitches, but he dabbed it with an antibiotic ointment and covered it with a bandage.
The procedure was repeated on a small spot on her other arm, and when he looked down at her legs, her toes curled.
“Dare, really …” He bent to a scrape on her inner thigh, and she said in a rush, “Shouldn’t I at least know your last name?”
Her high, shrill voice amused him. It wasn’t from fear that she nearly screeched at him. No, it was … something else. But definitely not fear.
“Macintosh.”
“Well, surely, Dare Macintosh, you will admit I can reach my own legs!”
She could—but he wanted to do it. Why, he couldn’t honestly say, but a small lie would work. “I need to know it’s done right, so just hush and sit still.”
Molly had sleek, shapely legs and small feet. Her skin, where it wasn’t hurt, was smooth and soft. He cupped the back of her knee and lifted her leg to treat what looked like rug burns. Since there’d been no carpeting in the trailer, he assumed the injuries were caused during her abduction. He wanted to know more about that, and would, soon.
He found two more deep scratches on her legs, and a cut on the side of her foot. As he treated her foot, he decided she’d need more than loose sandals to keep it protected.
He sat back. “Anywhere else?”
She rolled in her lips, released them, and gave in, putting a hand to the back of her neck. “I’m not sure, but there might be something here. It stung a little when I was showering.” Lifting her hair, she turned to show him.
Dare flinched in rage. Clearly, someone had choked her, given the finger marks on her slender throat. Above the faded bruising, a deep scratch showed.
Under his breath, but not softly enough, Dare whispered, “Fuckers.”
She swallowed. “The bruises are left over from when I was first taken. I didn’t go along easily.”
And so someone had choked her?
“They’re almost gone now,” she said, as if trying to reassure him.
“Not gone enough.” He touched her shoulder, and felt her shiver as he turned her a little more so he could better see.
While holding up her hair, she dropped her head forward, and the pose was so innocently provocative, and yet so trusting, that he felt himself stir.
Damn it, it wasn’t lust. What she made him feel was something more powerful than that—and more disturbing. He shook it off to concentrate on her injuries.
“How’d you get this scratch?” It looked deep, healed over a little, but still painful.
Her narrow shoulders lifted. “One of them wore an ornate ring.”
And the bastard had been manhandling her enough to cut her with it? Yeah, Dare decided, he’d be protecting her—but he decided against sharing solid decisions with her yet. He needed a lot more info, and it’d be best if she thought his compliance hinged on her giving full truths.
In his experience, too many people had secrets that could alter the outcome of an event.
Dare treated the scratch, but didn’t bandage it. “Done.”
“So …” She turned on the bed again, facing him as he replaced the chair. “You’ve made plans to leave.”
“In a few hours. Soon as we can get packed up, we’re out of here.”
She nodded, but hesitated. “I, um … Not that it matters in the long run, I guess, but … I feel conspicuous boarding a plane like this.” She held out the hem of the big shirt he’d given her. “Do we have time for me to just buy some jeans and maybe … a bra?”
His mouth firmed. Looking at her, he could see the need for the bra, especially with her nipples puckered, pressing against the thin cotton of the shirt.
Yeah, he could make time for that. If she knew they’d be on a chartered plane, away from any crowds, she might not think that shopping was necessary, but it wouldn’t hurt for her to get some shoes and socks, too. “We can spare about twenty minutes or so.”
“I promise I can find what I need in that time.” Hustling now, moving faster than he’d seen her move before this, she gathered up the few things he’d gotten her.
Dare nodded toward his bag on the bed. “Stow it in there.”
“What will you do about your weapons?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Chris had already cleared it with the pilots of the chartered plane.
In no time, they were checked out and leaving the motel. Dare scanned the parking lot but didn’t see anyone watching them. Making yet another trip to Walmart, he drove across the street and parked away from other shoppers.
Though she could no doubt afford to shop in a pricey boutique, Molly didn’t turn up her nose at the racks. She looked tired, but it didn’t slow her down as she located a pair of jeans, three pairs of socks, low boots, a bra, more underwear and a zip-up hooded sweatshirt in under the twenty minutes allotted.
She was a power-shopper—like him.
Impressed, Dare paid for the purchases and started back out to the lot with her.
That’s when he spotted the red Ford truck. Handing the bag to Molly, he steered her to the side of the front doors and said, “Stay here until I come back for you. Don’t move. Period. Do you understand me?”
“What? Wait.” She grabbed for his arm in a flash of panic. “Where are you going?”
Dare scanned the area, deciding on the best advantage. Through his teeth, he said, “Tell me you understand.”
She released her death grip on him. “I understand.” Fear put a quaver in her voice. “I won’t move from this spot.”
“Good girl.” Keeping his gaze on the truck driver, who hadn’t yet noticed them, Dare darted out alongside a driver looking for a parking place. Staying low, uncaring of what others might surmise, he used the parking-lot traffic to conceal him until he could get to the other side of the truck.
Using an SUV for cover, he checked to see that Molly remained near the front doors. The driver of the red truck stepped out. He’d spotted Molly, was looking right at her, and then he started searching for Dare.
The driver, a dark guy with black hair and mirrored sunglasses, held a cell phone in his hand. For backup, or to report to someone?
Darting from car to car, Dare positioned himself behind the unsuspecting driver, and then he stepped out and straightened. Luckily they were far enough away from the front of the store that most of the bustling shoppers wouldn’t notice them.
His heart beat slow and steady. His breath remained even; not too fast, not too shallow. He was in his element now, and he would damn well get answers.
Clearing his throat to draw the man’s attention, Dare watched as the driver shifted his balance in surprise. Before he could turn, Dare kicked out his supporting knee, but he didn’t let him fall. He grabbed his arm in a chicken-wing hold.
The driver cried out in mingled rage, fear and panic.
“Who are you?” Deliberately, Dare torqued the arm a little more. “Answer quick before I snap it.”
In Spanish, he muttered, “No one. I was hired, that is all.”
“Hired to do what?” And when the guy started to speak, Dare said, “In English, asshole.”
“Call when you left the store, so the girl could be retrieved.”
Ah. He’d told him to speak in English, and now that the man did, Dare didn’t hear an accent. “Who wants her dead?”
“Dead?” He shook his head. “All I know is she escaped when she shouldn’t have.”
And so someone wanted her back? But why? Dare released the man’s arm and jerked him around to face him. “Take off the sunglasses.”
“Fuck you.”
Moving so fast that the guy couldn’t brace for it, Dare hit him hard in the gut. The blow stole his wind, collapsing him forward as he wheezed. Dare knocked the sunglasses off his face and, with a hand knotted in his shirtfront, lifted him to his toes.
American, not Mexican. Dare’s jaw clenched. When he’d carried Molly out of the trailer, he hadn’t left behind any witnesses to recognize him. Someone must have checked in after that, and realized she was gone. Tracking down an American woman rescued from Tijuana would be tough—unless someone had the same level of contacts as Dare. “Who are you supposed to call?”
“I don’t know.”
“Bullshit.” The man briefly tried to struggle, but maintaining his hold on the guy’s shirt, Dare drew the knife and pressed it just beneath the bastard’s ribs. “You’re really blowing my patience, amigo.”
Very still now, his eyes wide at how hard that knife pressed into him, the guy spilled his guts. “Whoever had her wants her back. That’s all I know, I swear.”
Shoving him back against the vehicle, Dare said, “Dial it.” Whoever the man was, Dare would talk to him himself. At the very least, he’d let him know the futility of continuing this pursuit.
The shaken driver punched in the numbers and started to hand the phone to Dare.
A ringing sounded over the parking lot.
Stunned, Dare’s gaze shot up and locked onto a pay phone near the front entrance to the store … right where he’d left Molly.
Fuck. He leveled the driver with an elbow to the jaw and was already running flat out when he saw someone grab Molly from behind, wrapping an arm around her throat and clamping his other hand over her mouth.
Dare’s vision went red.
Charging without making a sound, he closed the distance to Molly. The man holding her tried to drag her toward an idling Charger, but she thrashed and fought, and her captor had a hell of a time keeping control.
People around them watched in horror but offered no assistance.
Dare didn’t need any.
Before the fuckers could stuff her in that car, he’d get them. It didn’t matter that there were two of them. It wouldn’t have mattered if there were four.
He would not let them take her again.
At a shout from the driver of the car, her assailant looked up and saw Dare gunning for him. Eyes widening with comprehension of Dare’s rage, the man released Molly with a shove and jumped into the already moving black Charger. The car screeched out of the parking lot.
Stumbling into the brick facing of the store, her purchases scattered around her, Molly coughed and gasped for air. Tears rolled down her pale cheeks, more from being choked than weeping.
Bystanders gathered around her. One woman collected Molly’s dumped belongings for her and, when she didn’t accept them, set them near her feet.
His gaze glued to her, Dare elbowed his way through the crowd and reached out. “Molly.”
She launched against him.
Tightening his arms around her, he tucked her face in close and let her hide from their gaping audience. “I’ve got you, Molly. It’s okay now.”
But it wasn’t, and they both knew it.
Someone wanted her badly enough to risk grabbing her in the middle of a busy parking lot. The truck driver had been no more than a diversion for him—and he’d fallen for it.
Fury, aimed at himself, made Dare a little more gruff than necessary when he pushed her back to see her face.
“Are you hurt?”
Eyes a little wild, face still white, she shook her head, saying shakily, “No. I don’t think so.”
But her knees were bleeding, and her hair was again a mess. He’d seen many things in his lifetime, and he’d gained a reputation for his calm, calculated response. Seeing Molly this way left him churning with very unfamiliar feelings.
Cold and precise, he caught Molly’s elbow and grabbed up her bags. “Let’s go.”
He practically dragged her along, but he didn’t want to take any more chances. Someone behind them yelled, “I called the cops. They’re on the way.”
Dare ignored him. Cops would want Molly to stick around answering questions, and that went against what Dare wanted—which was to get her the fuck out of there, away from danger.
No way in hell would he miss their chartered flight.
He opened the door of the rented van, shoved her purchases to the floor, and all but put her in the passenger seat. He even buckled her in—and she didn’t protest.
She looked to be in shock, white-faced, shaken and so silent that it hurt him. Damn it, he wasn’t a man to act without thinking things through, but now, with her …
The insane pressure built until he couldn’t bear it anymore.
Dare cupped her face, leaned in and gave her a hard, fast kiss on the mouth.
That got her focused again. Heat flooded her face, and she inhaled sharply. As she touched shaking fingertips to her mouth, her wide-eyed gaze locked on his.
Still with his hand covering the coolness of her cheek, Dare said, “I’m not going to let them hurt you again, Molly. I swear it.”
Two deep breaths expanded her chest. She rolled her lips in, stared a moment more, and then nodded. “Okay. I …” She blinked. “Thank you, Dare.”
Her gratitude made him growl, but damn it, he didn’t have time to explain something to her that even he still didn’t understand. He slammed her door and jogged around to the driver’s side. If he didn’t hurry, they’d be there when the cops arrived and then he’d lose control of the situation. He needed to focus on protecting her, not dwell on how soft and sweet her mouth felt under his.
Within minutes they were well away from the Walmart and the possibility of police delays.
On the ride to the airstrip where they’d catch the charter plane, Dare questioned her. “Did the guy who grabbed you say anything?”
She held her hands in her lap, her face filled with confusion, maybe as much from his kiss as her near abduction. Dare could still taste her, and that brief touch of her mouth on his had stirred him and left him more determined than ever to keep her safe.
“They said to come along or I’d die.” She looked over at him. “But … they probably planned to kill me either way, don’t you think? That’s why I fought them.”
“You did good. You slowed them down.”
“I knew you were close by, and I knew that you’d get to me in time.”
Her faith struck him even more than that kiss had.
With still-wavering composure, she said, “Thank you, Dare. That’s twice now—”
His temper all but snapped. “Damn it, Molly.”
She jumped, and, feeling like a bully, he moderated his tone.
“I wasn’t careful enough,” Dare told her. “I didn’t think that through. The minute I saw that idiot in the parking lot, I should have counted on a trap. I should have—”
“Stop it.” The quietness of her trembling voice added gravity to the command. “You don’t have psychic powers, so you couldn’t have known.”
“No, but I have experience and training.”
She reached over and touched his shoulder. “God’s truth, Dare, I feel safer with you than I possibly could with anyone else, so please don’t get discouraged.”
For Christ’s sake. She was all but in shock—again—and through his ill humor, he’d given her the wrong impression. He drew one breath, then another. “I am not discouraged, Molly. Just the opposite, from here on out I’m going to be a hell of a lot more careful. Got it?”
“Oh. Okay. Thank you. I appreciate that.”
Seeing that she was back to being super-proper again, Dare sighed. “Tell me about your family.”
“Why?”
“You said it yourself, Molly. It could be anyone doing this to you. You need an outside perspective on things. It’s always easiest to start with those closest to you.”
Humoring him, she said, “And that’d be my family.”
“Right. So tell me everything you can and let me sort out what’s important and what isn’t.”
With a shrug, she pondered things. “Well, like I told you, I ended things with my boyfriend. Actually, he was a fiancé before we separated, but we hadn’t yet picked a date to marry or anything.”
Fiancé? That nettled him, sent a cold fist tightening in his gut. Why, he didn’t want to ponder—except that he couldn’t believe Molly had loved Adrian.
Maybe she’d realized that, too, which was why she’d used a good excuse to break things off with him. “Did your family like him?”
“There’s only my Dad and Kathi, and my sister, Natalie. My dad’s parents are deceased. He was an only child. There are aunts and uncles and all that on my mother’s side, but they don’t live near us, and I think I’ve met most of them only a couple of times in my entire life.”
Trying to figure out the family dynamics, Dare asked, “So Kathi isn’t your mother?”
“Stepmother.” Without missing a beat, she said, “My mom threw herself off a bridge—twice—years ago.”
Dare did a double take. Molly announced her mother’s suicide so casually, it threw him. “I’m sorry.”
Antsy, still shaking, Molly stared out the side window. “Dad made Mom miserable. I was twelve the first time she tried to kill herself. She jumped off a bridge, but there was a rescue team doing drills in the river. She didn’t know they were there until they fished her out.”
“Damn. That had to be rough.”
She made a noncommittal sound. “Mom spent some time in the hospital, all the while with my dad harping over her selfishness and her weakness. For a few years after they released her, I thought she’d be okay.”
“But she wasn’t?”
“No.” Molly shook her head, and her voice lowered. “When I was fifteen, Dad cheated on her, and I guess it was too much.” She looked at Dare. “When she threw herself off the bridge the next time, she made sure it was a bridge over a highway, not water.”
Sorry he’d brought up such painful memories, Dare muttered, “Jesus.”
“Yeah.” Her hands knotted together, and she stared off at nothing. “Dad never showed much remorse, but he didn’t see the other woman again, either. I don’t think either of them, my mom or the woman he cheated with, ever meant that much to him.”
“Your dad sounds like a real prince.”
“He’s a selfish, pampered, class-A snob, believe me. He finds fault with everyone or everything.”
“Including his daughters?”
“Especially his daughters.” She glanced at Dare, her nose wrinkling. “I sometimes wonder how Kathi puts up with him.”
Hoping to get her back on track, Dare asked, “Did Kathi like Adrian?”
“She thought he was nice and wished us well. But Kathi is like that. Despite being rich even before she married my dad, who is pretty darned well-to-do, she tends to be very accepting of most people.”
Interesting. “So you get along with Kathi?”
Molly shrugged. “We don’t have a lot in common, really. She’s into social clubs and designer clothes, and she likes decorating, art and museums.”
“You said your dad is rich, so you must be used to those things, too.”
“No, Dad wanted Natalie and me to make it on our own, to earn our keep, as he put it. We skipped the private schools and travel abroad, and we always had summer jobs. I’m glad he took that attitude, because I wouldn’t want to be like him. And I’m not. But now, even though I’ve made it on my own, he finds me something of an embarrassment.”
With a red haze still crowding in around his vision, Dare knew that he didn’t like her father at all, and he wanted to put him at the top of his list of suspects. But he needed to be cold and methodical, not emotional and irrational.
Needing more info, he took a breath, locked his teeth, and asked, “How so?”
“It’s funny, really. Well, maybe ironic is a better word. See, all of Dad’s friends’ daughters are active in the community, heading up charitable events and stuff—as they were groomed to do. Some of them even work with Kathi. She’s a regular philanthropist. But thanks to how Dad raised us, that world is alien to me. So while the daughters of Dad’s peers are being revered in the press for their activism, all I do is mail off a check.”
“It’s more than most people do.” At least he’d distracted her, Dare decided. Her trembling had subsided, and she wasn’t so pale.
“Maybe.” She gave him a look and then shrugged. “In hindsight, I think Dad feels slighted that his offspring are so dismissed.”
“He sounds like an ass.”
She smiled and said again, “Maybe,” then added, “Most society women live in influential neighborhoods with posh accommodations, but my apartment is pretty simple.”
“Simple is good.”
“For me, it’s less about impressive entertaining and more about being functional so that I can find files and research notes when I need to. I’ve always been more into comfort than fashion, and when it comes to art, I like movie posters.” She gave a mock shudder. “Dad can’t stand it that I don’t own a single piece of real art.”
Dare imagined her apartment, and somehow it fit with what he already knew of her.
“Kathi has offered to go shopping with me.” Her lip curled. “To help me, you know, so that I can better represent my father. She’s all about making Dad look good however she can. But usually I stay too busy with deadlines to care about representing anything but my work.”
“Kathi sounds a little hoity-toity, but you just sound real.”
“Don’t get the wrong idea. For the most part, we get along fine. Kathi does enjoy the finer things in life, but unlike my dad, she makes an effort to get along, and better still, she doesn’t turn up her nose at genre fiction.”
“What you write.”
“Kathi actually reads all my work.” She managed a half grin, and in a conspiratorial whisper added, “It drives my dad nuts.”
“He doesn’t read you?”
“God, no.” The mere thought had her looking ill.
Huh. “I would think all of your family would read you.” He was damn curious himself, and he planned to pick up one of her books at the first opportunity.
“My sister does sometimes, but mostly because … well, she’s my sister. You know? It’s not really her thing. She’s more into political dramas or true crime. And Dad …” Molly gave a mock shudder. “He wouldn’t be caught dead with a genre book in his personal library. Especially not one with explicit sex in it, and most especially not one of my books.”
That diverted Dare from his annoyance with her father. “Your books have explicit sex in them?”
She immediately went defensive. “Life has sex in it, and I write about life, about people who face hardships and in the end triumph through it all. Any really good triumph deserves a lasting love, don’t you think?”
Before he could answer, she said, “Of course it does. And any lasting love has to have really hot, wonderful sex.”
Dare raised a brow. He had no argument against hot sex, with or without love. Again, he brought her back to the point. “How about your sister? You said she reads your books just because you’re related. But how do the two of you get along otherwise? Did she like Adrian?”
Molly went quiet for a moment. “My sister … Well, Natalie and I are pretty close. She’s only three years younger than me, and through high school and college we hung out together. She’s not just my sister but my best friend, too. As my best friend, she doesn’t think anyone is good enough for me, but she especially didn’t like Adrian. Actually, she pegged him from jump. He was a gold digger, a user and a bully.”
Dare liked her sister already. “So we can rule out Natalie?”
Molly smirked. “She’d go after anyone who even spoke an unkind word to me.”
“Including your father?” Dare was relieved to see the tension leaving her by small degrees. Her inner strength and composure astounded him. There were no tears, no dwelling on what might have happened. She understood the urgency of the situation, but she didn’t fall apart over it.
“Dad butts heads with both of us on a regular basis. It’s pretty much what our relationship is all about—strife, contempt and strained politeness. If it wasn’t for Kathi, I don’t know how often Natalie or I would even see him.”
“So Kathi is the glue?”
“Pretty much. She’s forever inviting us all over together, hoping against hope that somehow my dad will move beyond his rigid censure of us. I think she’s motivated by appearances, mostly. You know, it looks better if Dad’s daughters actually like him and enjoy his company.” Her smile went flat. “But at least she tries.”
Could her father be responsible for her abduction? “You said he’s well-to-do.”
“Bishop Alexander is an extremely successful businessman. He inherited his father’s corporation, which was thriving to begin with, but he’s grown it ten times over.”
“Meaning he has enough money to arrange and finance your kidnapping?”
The idea stalled her. “Money, means and a cold enough heart. But …” She looked at Dare. “I can’t imagine him doing that. We’ve had our ups and downs, but my dad just isn’t the type to dirty himself with something so sordid and illegal.”
Dare knew that the most unlikely people often did things that those closest to them could never fathom.
Molly stared down at her hands, struggling with the idea of what had happened. Finally she said, “The thing is, I can’t imagine anyone who is the type. Until this happened, I didn’t know that anyone disliked me that much.”
They were almost to the airstrip, a little ahead of schedule. Dare didn’t want her to get upset all over again. “One more question.”
“What?”
“If you and your sister are so close, she must know you’re gone, and she must be worried.” Molly stiffened a little, but Dare couldn’t back down. “So, Molly, tell me. Why didn’t you want to call her after you knew you were safe?”

CHAPTER FIVE
MOLLY STARED IN wonder as Dare led her to the small private plane. The wind on the airstrip blew her hair into her face, making her stumble over a step. Dare caught her elbow in a firmer grip and kept her upright.
He had a lot of questions, but she didn’t have that many answers.
Luckily he’d received a call that had lasted right until he was ready to drop off the rented van. She thought it might have been Chris again, and the call had left her mired in confusion.
Dare spoke to Chris with familiarity, affection and ease—proof that they shared a definite closeness. Maybe even … intimacy.
If Chris was a girlfriend, then why would Dare have kissed her? He didn’t strike her as a user, as a man who would cheat. He was far too protective to be deliberately hurtful to anyone he cared about.
It was possible she was making too much of the kiss. He’d wanted to snap her out of her shock, and … the kiss had certainly done the trick, and then some.
After turning in the van, Dare gave her enough time to go into the ladies’ room to change into her new clothes. While there, she’d cleaned the blood off her knees and elbows and tidied her hair. If she thought of how those men had tried to get her, it made her ill.
She never, ever wanted to be at someone else’s mercy again. Not like that. She couldn’t bear it.
But Dare had saved her, and now, Chris or no Chris, it sounded like he planned to protect her. She drew a calming breath and reminded herself to take it one step at a time. It was the only way she could hold it together.
As soon as she’d emerged in the clothes that mostly fit and were much more comfortable, Dare began hustling her to the plane.
Remembering her mother’s death left her aching with fresh hurt. Thinking of her father’s disapproval always filled her with burning resentment. And yes, Natalie would be frantic, a fact Molly hated.
But someone had put her through hell, and she had to concentrate on that, and only that. She didn’t know who to trust—except for Dare.
He’d kissed her. What did it mean?
When one pilot came out to greet Dare with a healthy dose of deference, Molly realized that Dare must be affluent. How else could he afford to pay for a spur-of-the-moment charter flight from one side of the country to the other?
Or … did he expect her to pay for it? Would this be added to her expenses?
She eyed the spiffy-looking plane anew. Unlike her father, she’d never flown privately before. The plane was small enough to make her extremely nervous.
Until they got aboard.
“Wow.”
Distracted, Dare glanced down at her. “What?”
“This is … decadent.”
He gave a cursory look around the plane, but just shrugged. “It’s comfortable enough. Grab a seat.”
There were only seven, but Molly wanted as much privacy from the two young, GQ-looking pilots as possible, so she headed toward the rear of the plane, near the lavatory. The backseats faced forward, so she could see Dare still up front talking to the men, discussing a short layover to refuel and the estimated time of arrival.
At her seat was an entertainment console with a monitor, satellite hookup and a DVD/CD/MP3 player. Still looking around, she made note of the burl wood cabinetry, the butter-soft tan leather seats, plush carpeting and a fully stocked bar.
Dare knew how to travel in style. She only hoped it wouldn’t break her bank account. She had no idea what something like this might cost.
He joined her a moment later. “Want a drink?” He indicated the fancy lighted bar she’d already noted.
“No, thank you.”
“You sure? Might steady you a little.”
“I’m plenty steady, thank you very much.” How many times did she have to tell him that she would not fall apart? She couldn’t afford to. If she wanted to survive this, she had to keep her nerves steady. Later she could give in to the panicked hysteria that still gnawed on her façade of calm.
Shrugging, Dare sat beside her and fastened his seat belt. “Buckle up.”
She scowled at the order but still connected the seat belt around her.
Lifting his armrest and turning in his seat, he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands hanging loosely. He studied her.
“What?” Just then the pilot started the engines, startling Molly. She grabbed for the armrests. “We’re taking off?”
“It’ll be easier to get home that way.”
She scowled again. “Sarcasm is unnecessary.”
He said nothing. Molly cleared her throat. “Where is home, and when will we get there?”
“Kentucky, and it’ll be late.”
As the plane rolled forward, she sucked in a breath and then swallowed hard.
Dare eyed her. “So, you’re one of those women who panics at flying?”
“No.” But she was, sort of. That the plane was so small didn’t help matters. Rigid from her head to her toes, she repeated, almost by rote, “I’m fine.”
“So you keep saying.”
He took her hands, and it reminded her of the differences in their sizes. Dare was huge, and she was not. His big rough hands totally engulfed hers, making her feel extra small and delicate.
She didn’t quite know what to make of that.
“Molly, look at me.”
When she did, she got snared in his bright-blue gaze. He had the most amazing eyes….
“Tell me why you haven’t contacted your sister to let her know you’re okay.”
The pilot announced something over a speaker system, and the plane moved, jarring her heart. She squeezed Dare’s hands and when she spoke, her voice was a little too high and squeaky. “Natalie might be a little younger than me, but she’s a teacher—meaning she’s used to governing with ultimate power.”
Dare didn’t smile at that small jest. “Yeah, so?”
“So if I had called her, she’d be grilling my dad and Adrian and anyone else she thinks could be responsible. There’s no way Natalie wouldn’t be on the warpath, trust me. If either of them is involved, they might be clued in. They could hide evidence or, in Adrian’s case, maybe even skip town.”
Dare looked a little stunned at her reasoning, but damn it, she couldn’t take chances.
“Whoever did this to me, I want him to be taken by surprise when he sees me free and unharmed. I want to blow his mind, and then maybe he’ll give himself away.”
Consternation lowered Dare’s brows. “Not a bad plan, really. But you do realize that whoever arranged this must already know that you’re free. That’s what those thugs at Walmart were about.”
“I know. But they don’t know when they’ll see me, or if the thugs will get me again before it becomes a concern. I can’t believe they’ll just give up, which means—”
“People are still after you.”
“Yes.” She shivered and then shivered some more when the plane began lifting. She squeezed Dare’s hands as tightly as she could. “Oh, God.”
Dare searched her face, looked resigned and … maybe a little expectant. Then he leaned forward and kissed her again.
Molly was so shocked, she leaned away from him—until he pulled his hands free from hers and cupped her face, bringing her back.
His hands holding hers had been startling; his hands gently framing her face were more so.
This kiss wasn’t hard and fast. It was warm and easy, slow, lingering and oh-so-distracting. When she didn’t retreat again, he turned his head to better fit their mouths together and deepened the kiss.
A rush of heat chased away her icy fear. Her rigid muscles went liquid. Wow.
Molly caught his wrists, but not to pry him away; she held on for dear life. Being thirty years old, she’d been kissed many times, but never had it felt like … this. When she made a small sound, a cross between a moan and a purr, Dare stroked his thumbs over her cheeks.
A second later, he touched his tongue to hers.
Heart pounding and skin burning, Molly forgot about the plane, about unscrupulous dogs who meant her harm. Right now, for this moment, there was only Dare and his warmth and intoxicating scent, his strength and the security of him, the way he tasted and felt and how he touched her.
He smoothed a hand over her face, over her hair and, to her regret, eased away.
Molly got her eyes open, only to find that the blue of his looked incendiary. He glanced down at her mouth, eased his thumb slowly over her bottom lip and, with a frown, settled back into his seat.
She, on the other hand, perched as far forward as her seat belt would allow, still straining toward Dare. With a gasp, she realized how that looked and flopped back. Again, she clamped her hands over the ends of the armrests.
Her heart continued to thunder, and her body burned in select places. She could feel Dare looking at her, and it made her both uncomfortable and more excited. Was he waiting for her to react?
Well, this was not something she could ignore. The first kiss, maybe. But that kiss? No way. “Dare?”
He watched her like a hawk watched a mouse, his gaze unflinching, ready and alert, almost as if he expected her to bolt. “Hmm?”
“That’s, uh, the second time you’ve kissed me.”
His gaze went back to her mouth, his voice deepened. “I can count.”
She chewed her lips, saw his eyes narrow and quickly relaxed her mouth again. Rather than ask a direct question about Chris, she said, “You were distracting me, because the flight—”
“No.”
No? But of course he was. Wasn’t he? She shook her head. There was so much she didn’t know about him, but she didn’t want to cross the line and become intrusive into his private life. “I don’t understand what it means.”
His gaze lifted back to hers. “Yes, you do.” He looked over her entire body, oh-so-slowly, before coming back to her face. “It bothers you?”
Bother her? She considered his interest, his attention, and … no. It didn’t bother her, at least not the way he meant. If anything, she felt wonderfully flattered—if he wasn’t already involved with someone else. “I just don’t understand.”
“Hell if I do either.” With a wince, he stretched out his long legs as if uncomfortable. “Not once, before you, have I ever come on to a woman I rescued. In every other case it would have been unethical.” When he turned his head toward her again, she saw his frustration and knew it was more with himself than with her. “In your case, no one hired me, so that restriction isn’t there.”
“No, it isn’t.” He wouldn’t be betraying anyone’s trust to deliver her home safely, because she was the one hiring him. And she knew without a doubt that if she said no, Dare would respect that.
“But what happened, the hell those bastards put you through …” His gaze searched hers. “What happened just today should be enough to shut me down.”
“Why?” Molly really didn’t think she wanted him shut down.
His expression turned grim. “You haven’t exactly been around sterling examples of manhood, Molly.”
She’d been held captive by total cretins—who had nothing in common with this remarkable man. Unable to help herself, she put a hand on his muscular forearm. “But don’t you see, Dare? That’s why you stand out even more. You’re very, very different from them.”
“I know that.” He worked his jaw. “Do you?”
“Yes.” She hadn’t known him long, but the threatening situation had given him room to prove himself beyond all measure.
“No residual effects, then?” When she just looked at him, not really comprehending, he shook his head. Measuring each word with care, he said, “Sometimes, after a trauma like yours, anything remotely similar can trigger the bad memories, the panic, even hysteria. In your case, a guy getting too close—”
“But you’re not just any guy.” Molly hoped her smile might reassure him. “You are the guy who got me out of that nightmare. I could never feel about you how I feel about them.”
Unconvinced, Dare turned his hand over and waited for her to lace her fingers with his. She did so hesitantly. This was the fastest any relationship had ever moved for her, and the unusual circumstances were such that she didn’t entirely trust her own judgment. Not that she questioned Dare or his motives.
But her own?
She didn’t want to smother him with her neediness, an emotion normally foreign to her but plenty prevalent right now, no matter how she tried to hide it.
He lifted her hand, stroked her knuckles with his thumb, and while it was the gentlest of gestures, he quickly turned very businesslike.
“We have a lot to get through, Molly. More than you probably realize. Getting the goons off your ass will be the easiest part. Finding out who arranged your abduction—that’s going to take some doing. And trust me on this, the truth isn’t going to be satisfying. It’s a necessity, but it won’t make you feel better, and it won’t soften the memory.”
“How do you know?” More than anything, she looked forward to nailing the ones responsible. She needed some closure on this living nightmare.
“For one thing, it’s almost always someone you know, and someone you’d never suspect.” He held her hand tighter. “Because it’s usually someone you have a relationship with.”
Her heart squeezed tight. “But I still have to know.”
“Of course you do. And for that reason, I have a million questions I have to ask, and I can guarantee it’s not going to be easy for you. Inquisitions seldom are. But it’s information I need—”
“It’s okay.” Molly licked her lips. “If … if this is going to be as hard as you say, then what do you suggest I do?”
His eyes narrowed. “For starters, be one hundred percent honest with me, always.”
“All right.” She’d never been a deceptive person anyway, and now, more than ever, she knew that honesty over every little detail really mattered.
He unbuckled her seat belt. “I specifically requested no stewardess on the plane to ensure that we were alone.”
“You did?” Before she could ask why, he lifted her over to sit in his lap.
He leaned the seat back and arranged her so that they were both comfortable. “You still need to catch up on your sleep. This might be a good time.”
With her face against his chest, his scent surrounding her, Molly allowed the lethargy to seep in. She was exhausted, and somehow Dare had known that once she got settled so close to him, giving in to the need for rest would be easier.
After a lusty yawn, she gathered her thoughts. “You said you have questions.”
“I do.”
His left hand rested loosely at her hip, and his right hand was behind her, keeping her close. Molly felt secure and safe. “So?”
“They’ll wait until we’re at my place—after we’ve both slept and eaten.”
That worked for her, but …”Well, I have some questions, then.”
He tucked in his chin to look down at her, saw that she was serious and relaxed back again. “Shoot.”
It was easier like this, without him looking right at her. “You’re … attracted to me?”
His short laugh rumbled from his chest beneath her ear. “Definitely.” He looked down at her once more. “You had doubts about that?”
“I don’t know.” She had doubts about Chris, but for the moment, at least, it was easy to push those concerns from her mind. “You’re different from other men I’ve known.”
“Not so different. I had to fight off a boner so I could hold you like this without maybe scaring you off.”
His plain speaking fascinated her, but she didn’t dwell on that. “I’m not scared of you, Dare.”
“No,” he said slowly, “you aren’t, are you? But neither of us yet knows how ready you really are. You’re holding it together, so let’s don’t test the waters too much, okay?”
Honestly, she was so wiped out, and still felt so … raw, she didn’t mind that suggestion at all. “The thing is, I don’t get it.”
“What’s not to get?”
“I’m hardly at my best right now. Physically, I mean. I look like—”
“You’ve been abused for nine days. Yeah, I know.” He gave her a little squeeze. “Bruises and fatigue can’t camouflage what’s there, Molly. You’re still an attractive woman. But looks aren’t the only draw.”
“What else?” He didn’t know her well enough to like her personality. Or did he?
“Bravery is something I admire a lot. Intelligence, ingenuity, control, logic. You’ve got it all in spades, lady, and I think it’s sexy as hell.”
Even before she’d been taken, her breakup with Adrian and her father’s censure had left her struggling for her self-confidence. So many accolades now put her on the verge of being weepy. She didn’t feel brave or ingenious. She felt used, duped, angry and, deep down, very scared.
Twisting around a little, she half sat up and looked at Dare. “Those men didn’t kiss me.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “You don’t have to worry about me overreacting to that.”
For only an instant, he flashed that crooked grin again. Then something much hotter replaced the humor. “You want another kiss, do you?”
“I really do.”
Dare looked at her bruised cheekbone, at another fading mark beneath her eye. “They hit you.” His voice roughened; his hands on her tightened in a sign of protectiveness. “And bit you.”
Molly drew in a thin breath. She couldn’t deny it, but right now the reality of that seemed further away. “You’re not trying to do either.”
For the longest time he watched her, trying to gauge her mood, she knew. Molly just waited, anticipation heightened, tension coiling.
He said very softly, with suggestion, “Well, maybe the bite, yeah?”
She blinked, her body clenching with interest as he leaned in, ever so slowly, toward her neck. She felt his hot breath first, then the feather-light press of his mouth, the sensual touch of his damp tongue and, lastly, the light grazing of his sharp teeth along her skin.
Her breath caught loud enough that he paused, but when she didn’t pull away, he resumed teasing her, making her toes curl, her stomach flutter. He opened his mouth and treated her to a tantalizing love bite that sent liquid sensation throughout her whole body.
Near her ear, he whispered, “Now, when you think of biting, think of me, okay?”
Caught up in building need, Molly wrapped her hands around the back of his neck and sought his mouth. She actually needed his kiss as much if not more than she needed sleep.
“Easy,” he whispered, and then his mouth was on hers, taking and giving, consuming her awareness of everything but him.
Even as his kiss overshadowed her worries, she wondered: How was this so different? Before now, she’d thought a kiss was a kiss was a kiss. Some were exciting, some were so-so, but kissing Dare caused a singular effect in her.
In a nanosecond, a kiss from him ratcheted up her need. She wasn’t an overly sexual woman at the best of times, and this, most definitely, was not the best of times. She should have been sleeping as he’d suggested, and instead …
He gave her his tongue, and everything in her tightened with desire.
Molly tried to scoot closer to him, into him. She let her hands wander over his broad, hard shoulders, down over bulging pecs and lower still to his flat abdomen. All over he was solid, hot and powerful.
She got one hand in under his T-shirt, made contact with his sleek skin, up his side to his muscular back … and then she felt it—the telltale rise of an erection beneath her hip.
He pulled his mouth away with a low curse.
“Dare?” She was breathing too hard and fast. “You—”
“I know. Trust me, it’s not something I’d miss.”
Incredibly, Molly rolled in her lips and tried to figure out the possibilities of the scenario. She glanced over her shoulder toward the cockpit that housed the two pilots. As long as they stayed there, she and Dare had moderate privacy….
Dare gave a gruff laugh. “Forget it. Not happening.”
That he’d so easily read her thoughts left her blushing.
He shook his head. “You’re something else, you know that?” He kissed her hard and quick before urging her head to his shoulder. “I want you to try and sleep. I need some time to think.”
Toes curled and body throbbing, Molly forced herself to relax against him. She hoped he wasn’t thinking of how to handle her. She didn’t want to be handled. She wasn’t sure what she wanted, really. Except maybe more—
Before she could finish that thought, Dare kissed her on the top of the head. “You’re more fragile than you realize, Molly Alexander.” He caught her chin, turning her face toward him. “Don’t push yourself. I want you—that’s not going to change. I can’t say I won’t kiss you, but how far and how fast we go is up to you.”
Dear God, did he mean she’d have to … ask?
His mouth tipped in a crooked smile. “You’re a big girl, Molly, and you have a lot of backbone. When you’re ready, you can tell me.”
“But …”
“For my sake, let’s give you some time to come to grips with everything. Okay?”
She didn’t know herself right now, so maybe he was right. Besides, she didn’t have the sexual savvy to insist. “Okay.”
She closed her eyes and, with Dare’s hand stroking over her back, gradually faded into a deep, untroubled sleep.
EVEN WHEN THE PILOT’S voice broke over the speaker system announcing the weather forecast for their landing, which was thankfully clear and dry, Molly slept.
Hours ago, they had landed to refuel, and she’d slept through it. Dare glanced at his watch. He would have eaten on the plane if he could have without waking her. Now it was well past dinnertime and they still had an hour to drive after they left the airport. A drive-through burger would have to do, because he wasn’t stopping, wasn’t taking any chances with her at all. He’d feel better about things once he had her secured on his grounds.
While she’d been utterly lax in his arms, he’d studied every inch of her, all the while sorting through what he knew of her, and what he didn’t. That she’d survived amazed him. How she’d survived was the kicker. She had plenty of backbone, and so much bravado that he couldn’t help but admire her.
Seemed he couldn’t help wanting her, either.
Though she obviously didn’t know it, Molly was a sexy mix of innocence, courage, independence and honesty. The combo hit him on a gut level. It had been a hell of a long time since a woman had really gotten to him. He’d made a point of not letting them.
But with Molly, she got under his skin without even trying.
Maybe that was it—that she wasn’t trying. She was just herself, an appealing, wounded woman determined to confront her own personal reality head-on.
Whatever the cause, he had to remember all that she’d suffered so that he didn’t rush her into anything.
Beyond that, he didn’t want to set himself up, either.
She stirred again, and since the plane would soon be landing, Dare woke her.
“Feel better?”
His voice must have reached her, because she went still but didn’t open her eyes. Breathing deep and slow, caught in the enchantment between wakefulness and slumber, she smiled and curled closer.
Warmed by her trust, Dare bent and kissed the bridge of her nose, and then scowled over the impulsive move. He had to back off. “Wake up, woman.” He jostled her a little. “I’d like to get to my house before midnight.”
“Midnight?” Blinking heavy-lidded eyes, she half sat up, took in her surroundings and self-consciously smoothed her hair. “It’ll be that late?”
Damn but she looked sweet all sleepy like this. “Depends on how long it takes them to land and let us off the plane. Then we have an hour’s drive.”
Her stomach rumbled, and she ducked her head. “I’ve been asleep awhile.”
Meaning she was hungry, too? “I want to make good time, but I plan to get some fast food to eat on the fly.”
“Sounds good …” Face going pink, she suddenly remembered that she was still in his lap. She eased over into her own seat. “Whatever you want to do is fine.”
With a dry tone, Dare teased, “Really?”
Nodding, she fastened her seat belt around her. “I’m sorry I conked out like that.” She cast him a sideways look. “You should have woken me or at least told me to get in my own seat.”
“I didn’t mind.” In fact, he’d enjoyed it. But now he needed to stretch his legs and tend to other needs. They only had a few minutes before the plane would begin its landing. “I’ll be right back.”
He went to the lavatory to relieve himself and freshen up. Cold water on his face did nothing to clarify his jumbled thoughts. Soon he’d have Molly ensconced in his home, where he’d never even brought a woman for dinner, much less invited her to stay.
Running a hand over his face, Dare imagined how it might be with Molly there, how she’d react to his girls and Chris…. “Fuck.” Stewing over it in the tiny airplane john wouldn’t help, and he wasn’t a man who believed in stewing anyway. He was a proactive person. If he didn’t like something, he changed it.
With Molly, he’d just have to wait and see.
He returned to find her looking in desperate need herself. “Go ahead. But make it quick, okay?” He waited in the aisle for her as she dashed out of her seat, and while she was gone, he poured her a juice over ice and located some mixed nuts for them both.
She was buckled back in her seat a minute later, grateful for the juice and snack, and less than half an hour after that, a shuttle dropped them off in the long-term parking area, and Dare, with a close eye on his surroundings, loaded her into his SUV.
What his girls would think of her, he couldn’t imagine. He knew damn good and well how Chris would feel, though: territorial and antagonistic. But then that’s how Chris usually felt about everything. Dare considered those some of his finer qualities.

CHAPTER SIX
IT WAS NEARING eleven o’clock when Dare pulled down the long drive to his home. Molly had been mostly quiet during the ride, except to thank him for the feast of a hamburger, fries and milk shake.
One thing about Molly: she was still putting the food away. If she always ate like this, she had to have one hell of a fast metabolism to stay so petite. At a little over five and a half feet tall, she had curves aplenty, but in all the right places. Her limbs were slim, and she had a tiny waist. When he’d held her, he knew she weighed next to nothing. She might have lost weight in her nine days of captivity, but it couldn’t have been too substantial or she wouldn’t have physically recovered so quickly.
So … was she always stacked? Did she maintain that figure even while hiding it from most? She wasn’t a flaunter—he knew that right off. With women, you could always tell which ones liked to be front and center, using their bodies to draw attention.
Molly didn’t lack confidence, but it had little to do with her figure and a lot to do with her intelligence.
As he neared their destination, she listened to his CD collection and brooded. She was a survivor, so likely she’d put her brain to the task of going over a variety of scenarios in an attempt to be prepared. A futile effort, but Dare wouldn’t tell her so.
She was so involved in her own thoughts that Dare knew she didn’t realize they were almost home.
By deliberate means, his place was set way back in the woods, hidden by tall evergreens and a variety of hardwoods, with a narrow road that climbed up to the main gate. The way the road twisted and turned in and around trees helped to hide it.
He’d planned it that way.
Headlights shone on the impressive and ornate iron fencing that enclosed the front of his property. The rest of the land, all fifteen acres, was protected with electric fencing. Only the lake offered free access, but that, too, was secured with lights and alarms.
Agog, Molly twisted in her seat to look out each win dow, taking in the view. “This is where you live? Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
She dropped back into her seat. “It’s like vacation property.”
“Pretty much.” Once he reached the security gate, Molly went silent. All movement stopped, and she stared as Dare rolled down a window and punched in a private code that opened the gates. He drove beyond them and they closed again.
She just stared.
In response to her mute amazement, Dare told her, “Be prepared.”
She blinked fast as if to refocus. “For what?”
“Chris will come out to meet us. My girls, too.”
After moistening dry lips with a quick lick, she said, “I heard you mention them. On the phone, I mean. Back at the motel room.”
Her stilted speech amused Dare. “I do love my girls.”
She cleared her throat. “Chris, too?”
“Definitely.” Knowing she didn’t entirely understand, and willing to tease her, Dare said, “Chris will try to intimidate you, so be prepared.”
She cleared her throat. “Chris is …?”
“Housekeeper, manager, assistant—pretty much everything.”
“Everything?” she asked, her voice high and faint.
Dare couldn’t help but grin. “Sure.” And then, “Just ask him. He’ll tell you how important he is.”
Her jaw loosened. “He will?” Then, before Dare could reply, “Chris is a guy?” And then with confusion, “You live with another man?”
“Yeah.”
“Does … he have a wife? Or maybe a girlfriend?”
“No.” Dare knew she was trying to figure out the dynamic. He waited two heartbeats, then said, “Chris is gay.”
“Gay?” Mystified, she stared at him. “But you’re not …?”
Dare gave her a look. “Are you actually asking me that? Because I thought I’d made my sexual preferences pretty clear already.”
“I thought you did, too. But then you kept mentioning Chris and your girls, and I wasn’t sure what to think.”
“I’m not involved with anyone.”
“Good.” Her eyes widened when she said that, and she quickly clarified, “I mean … okay.” Thoughts visibly churning, she took in the woods and the dirt road that changed to pavement, and then the landscaping as it opened up to his home. She fell back in her seat.
The sight of manicured lawns under bright lights that flickered on with their progress distracted her.
Molly gave up. “Okay, then, since you and Chris don’t have that kind of relationship, why would he want to intimidate me?”
“Suspicion, most likely.” And because that explanation didn’t suffice, Dare added, “I never bring women here. Hell, I don’t bring anyone here. You’re a first.”
Her interested gaze transferred to him. “You don’t?”
Dare shook his head.
“But … why?”
“Policy.” He glanced at her, saw her frowning and said, “Don’t worry about it, okay?”
Pulling around the circular drive, Dare stopped in front of the pedimented entry. Warm lights poured through the cut glass in the door, the transom and the sidelights, spilling onto the front porch and out onto the paved walkway. The double doors opened and his girls shot out in berserk joy. Each of them had a stuffed toy clamped in her teeth.
Chris came to stand at the top step. He folded his arms over his bare chest and waited.
Eyes widening even more, Molly asked in a whisper, “Is that him?”
Wondering what she’d expected, Dare glanced at Chris. His personal assistant stood there shirtless, sloppy shorts hanging low, feet bare. His shaggy black hair became even more disheveled by a brisk wind.
Shaking his head, Dare accepted that Chris looked nothing like a businessperson and very much like a lake bum. “I think we’ve kept him up past his bedtime.”
“Oh, dear.” Casting Dare a sideways glance, she said, “He was waiting up for you?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that part of his job description, or just because he was concerned?”
“Most likely, it was curiosity.” Dare grinned at her. “Chris and I are best friends. Like brothers, really.”
She let out her breath, but asked with accusation, “Did you know what I thought?”
“Maybe.” Tamping down his grin, Dare said, “It gave you something to think about besides your kidnapping.”
She frowned at him but said nothing more.
“And there are my beautiful girls, Sargeant and Tai’ree, better known as Sargie and Tai.”

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Lori Foster

Тип: электронная книга

Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература

Язык: на английском языке

Издательство: HarperCollins

Дата публикации: 16.04.2024

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О книге: THE TOUGHER THEY ARE, THE HARDER THEY FALL… Mercenary Dare Macintosh lives by one hard-and-fast rule: business should never be personal. If the price is right, he’ll take the mission. But then Molly Alexander asks him to help her track down the men who’d had her kidnapped and for the first time, Dare’s tempted to combine work with pleasure.Fiercely independent, Molly vows to trust no one until she’s uncovered the truth. Could the enemy be her powerful, estranged father? The ex-fiancé who still holds a grudge? Or the not-so-shy fan of her bestselling novels? As the danger heats up around them, the only anchor Molly has is Dare himself. But what she feels for him just might be the most frightening thing of all.

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