When You Dare (13 page)

“Glad you think so.” With a total of forty-five hundred feet of living space, the house was…expansive. But it was divided up in a functional way. To help Molly get acclimated, Dare said, “Think of it as circular. Everything revolves from this spot. Dining hall on the left, library on the right. Straight ahead, up the curving stairs, are a studio and three other bedrooms. You’ll have a room up there.”

She jerked around to stare at him with clear alarm. “Where do you sleep?”

Indicating beyond the stairs, on the main floor, Dare said, “Master bedroom and bath are on the right, end of the hall is the great room, then the kitchen, morning room, laundry and family room are to the left.”

As the dogs moved closer to her, their nails tapped on the marble floor, drawing her attention there. She looked down at them, then up at the recessed ceilings and giant, rustic chandelier. “It’s…gorgeous. And enormous.”

“Thanks.” Dare picked up his duffel and again touched the small of her back, urging her toward the stairs ahead of him. “I’ll show you to your room.” The dogs started forward in anticipation.

He got her halfway up the stairs before Molly resisted, glancing up at him. “Who else sleeps up there?”

“No one. I have the master suite, and Chris stays in the lake house.” Thinking she was worried about privacy, Dare assured her, “You’ll pretty much have the whole upstairs to yourself.”

Jaw loosening, she turned completely around on the middle of the stairs to face him. The dogs, too, looked at Dare with expectation. “You have another house?”

“A cabin, really, down closer to the lake.” He noticed the pink tinge to her cheeks, how her lips parted, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s small but functional. And Chris values having space he can call his own. Mostly because he’s a slob and I’m not.”

“Good God, a football team could live in this house and have plenty of space.”

Dare couldn’t help himself; he leaned forward and kissed her. With her a step above him, it was the perfect fit. “You’ll be safe here, Molly, no reason to be concerned. The house is wired for state-of-the-art security. Know that you’ll be protected.”

She touched her mouth—and continued to look…reluctant. “I wasn’t…wasn’t worried about that.”

“Yeah, you were. But it’s understandable. Hell, I’d be more concerned if you weren’t. Now, come on.” He took the lead, stepping around her and going up the rest of the stairs. The dogs followed him in a rush. “The back bedroom faces the lake. I think you’ll like it.”

“How could I not? It’s all incredible. Very masculine, but somehow posh, too.”

“It’s relaxed—suitable for dogs and two men.” Dare waited at the top of the stairs, watching her.

“I’m sure you guys are very comfortable here, but a woman could be, too.” She followed him up. “Who did your decorating?”

Pleased with her, Dare turned toward one of the bedrooms. “I did.”

“Oh, that’s right.” She twisted her mouth. “Chris said you were good at everything.”

“Chris is paid to be biased.” The dogs forged ahead of him, trying to anticipate his destination.

“But you two are friends, too. You said he’s not just an employee.”

“We’re good friends, have been for years.” Over twenty years, actually…but that was a story for another time.

Dare went into the second largest bedroom and set his duffel on a queen-size four-poster bed. It was made up with soft, warm, hand-sewn quilts and luxurious sheets.

The dogs circled the perimeter of the room, trying to watch both Dare and Molly as she looked lost and he unloaded the few clothes and toiletries currently in her possession. It wasn’t much, but right now, here with him, she didn’t need much.

Attempting to hide her anxiety from him, she patted the dogs and then went to peek into the bathroom.

She would be comfortable here, Dare told himself.

So why was he feeling guilty?

Hands on his hips, he tracked her every movement, trying to gauge her mood, to determine a way to reassure her without crossing boundaries. Hell, he’d already crossed so many lines it shouldn’t matter anymore…but it did.

“Go ahead and put your stuff in the drawers, set up however you want, make yourself at home. The television remotes are on the shelf. There are DVDs in the library if you want to hunt through those. You can bring a bunch up here if you want.”

“Thanks.”

Damn it, she sounded so lost. “The computer is hooked up to the internet, so feel free to surf, to entertain yourself. But don’t check any personal accounts. I don’t want you to sign in under your name for anything. It’s too easy to track.”

“Okay.” She showed little interest in the TV or the computer.

More frustrated by the second, Dare narrowed his eyes. “If you need anything else, just ask.”

She went over to look out the French doors that opened onto a small deck overlooking the yard below—which led down to the lake. From the deck, she could just see Chris’s residence and the dock beyond there, the boathouse, the reflection of the moon off lightly lapping water.

Silence filled the room.

“Molly.”

She leaned against the doors and avoided looking at Dare. “I know it’s late…”

“Not that late.” She’d slept throughout the flight, so she probably wasn’t ready to retire yet. Was that what caused her worry? Did she think he’d bring her here and then abandon her? “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry for real food. Why don’t you take a few minutes to yourself and then meet me downstairs in the kitchen. I’ll get us something to eat.”

Tension fell out of her shoulders. “Okay.”

She didn’t deny being hungry. Again. But Dare was almost positive it was the reprieve from being alone that had relaxed her. Why didn’t she just tell him that?

Confounding woman.

“You have time to take a shower if you want.”

She inhaled and let out a long breath. “Okay. Thanks.”

Dare crossed his arms. “Damn it, Molly, if you have something on your mind—”

She spun around with a false smile. “No, I’m fine. Everything is…fine. Terrific. Go get your food. I’ll freshen up and be right down.”

He waited, wondering if he should press the issue. She’d been through so much that there had to be awful, residual effects. What did he really know of how a woman reacted to these things? So far, everything he’d expected from her had been off. No hysterics, no uncontrollable sobbing or raging anger.

“Really, Dare. I’m fine. Looking forward to a shower, actually.”

Dare didn’t believe a word of it, but standing there staring at her wasn’t going to help. “Towels are in the bathroom. Come on down when you’re finished.”

“I hope I don’t get lost.” She tried a smile that didn’t quite make it to her warm brown eyes. Moving to the door by way of encouraging him to leave, she said, “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

“Take your time.” He started out, but the dogs hesitated, whining, looking from Molly to Dare and back again. He rolled his eyes. “She’ll join us soon enough. Come on.” He patted his thigh, and finally the dogs came to him.

Together, they left, but Dare didn’t like it. Surely Molly wanted the privacy of her own bedroom, her own bathroom. It wasn’t like he was leaving her alone in a strange place. He’d be right downstairs.

But, damn it, he didn’t want to be.

If it hadn’t been so inappropriate, he would have dragged Molly down onto the bed and just held her. All night.

As if they felt his mood, Tai and Sargie kept giving him sympathetic glances.

“It’s a hell of a thing, isn’t it? Trust me, I don’t like being confused any more than you do.”

The dogs whined in return.

By the time he stowed his duffel in his room and joined Chris in the kitchen, his mood had soured even more. With it well past their bedtime, the dogs went straight for their favorite spot in the attached morning room. They each had a padded bed placed before the wall of windows. Only moonlight shone through, but they flopped down to wallow in it, and they were soon asleep.

Chris handed Dare a cup of coffee, which was always the first order of business. “Is Ms. Apple Dumpling turning in for the night?”

“Taking a shower—and this is no time for you to be an asshole, so lay off of her, will you?” He tasted the coffee and commended Chris with a nod. It had taken him nearly a month to teach Chris the right ratio of freshly ground coffee beans to water to brew time. Now he had it down pat, and it was one luxury Dare missed while out on the road.

“I saw the bruises.” Chris leaned back against the counter and folded his arms over his chest. “Someone really put it to her?”

“Several someones.”

He acknowledged that, then said, “I hope they aren’t still living.”

Dare rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. That he killed when necessary wasn’t a surprise for Chris, or an emotional burden for Dare. “I took care of them.” But now, in hindsight, he wished like hell that he would have kept one of the fuckers around to question.

Chris was curious, but as usual, he wasn’t prying. It was yet another reason why he made such an invaluable assistant. “I found Molly in the same holding cell with Alani, but she stood out like a sore thumb.” Dare faced his friend. “No way was she there to be sold off, because she was abused too much, way more than the others.”

Chris went still. “So why was she there?”

“Fucked if I know. I think someone had her taken. But I have no idea why.” Dare frowned. “Yet.”

While idly setting out the fresh groceries he’d bought, Chris considered that. “I take it she isn’t exactly the norm for that sort of thing?”

“Hell, no.”

Chris didn’t drink much coffee, which might have been why it took so long for him to get the process of making it right. He took out the orange juice and poured himself a tall glass. “It almost had to be somebody close to her—isn’t that what you always say?”

Dare shrugged. “I’m keeping an open mind, and I plan to cover all the bases.”

“A few questions come to mind.”

“I figured as much.” Dare set the half-empty cup aside and went to investigate Chris’s food purchases. Skinless chicken and fresh vegetables would be quick and easy to cook. “Let’s have it.”

“She hired you?”

Dare shrugged again. Molly’s offer to pay him for services rendered didn’t sit well with him. “I might do this one pro bono. But I haven’t told her that yet, so keep it to yourself.”

That set Chris back, so it was a few seconds before he asked, “How long is she staying here?”

“Don’t know yet.” And he didn’t want to think about it too much. He preferred to play it by ear, and take it one day at a time. He got out what he’d need to sauté the chicken and steam the vegetables. “Depends on how things go.”

“What does that mean?”

He looked up from his chore. “I’m going to take her back to her place, be with her when she sees family and then judge my next step.”

“So if things go well and you can wrap it up quick, maybe you won’t be bringing her back with you?”

“I didn’t say—”

Molly cleared her throat and both men looked up. She’d combed her wet hair straight back and dressed in one of the big shirts—with a bra beneath—and the jeans. Her bare feet poked out from under the denim. Dare straightened.

Chris stepped around him and held out a chair at the long granite bar. “Coffee or juice?”

Glancing away from Dare’s penetrating stare, she said, “Juice would be great. Thank you.” She visually explored the island gourmet kitchen with stone countertops and lots of stainless steel. It opened into a family room and the morning room, where they ate breakfast. “Every room is more amazing than the next.”

Dare said nothing. The second she’d entered, he again felt her tension.

The dogs came to investigate, sniffed her feet and dropped down beside her. Hell, Dare thought, even they felt protective, so why would he expect himself to be any different?

Maybe because he knew it wasn’t just protectiveness that he felt.

“I’ll have food ready in twenty minutes.”

“Sounds great. What can I do to help?”

“You can tell me why your readers could be suspects. And then we’ll go from there.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

“R
EADERS?”
C
HRIS DID
a double take. What the hell did he mean by
readers?
Molly wrote? Like…
what?

“She’s an author,” Dare told him as he began preparing the food. “One of her books is being made into a movie with Ryan Reynolds as the lead.”

Chris’s jaw loosened. Why did Dare just keep dropping bombshells on him? He’d already found her interesting, in part because Dare had brought her here, which was an aberration of the major kind.

But this was something altogether different.

“You’re shittin’ me.”

“Nice language, asshole.”

Chris waved that off. It wasn’t like Dare was any better. Hell, neither of them was used to having a female around the place—not counting Tai and Sargie, who didn’t care what language they heard as long as they got treats and plenty of attention.

As a genuine movie buff, Chris felt suitably impressed. But then, he’d already been impressed with her before that. Somehow, Molly didn’t fit his vision of the creative sort. She wasn’t…glamorous enough. And she seemed far too grounded, instead of artistic.

But hell, she’d just been rescued from kidnappers who had battered her pretty badly. Maybe under better circumstances she had more savoir faire.

As he considered it, he realized that Molly didn’t fit any stereotype familiar to him. Most people in her situation would be either demanding of attention or withdrawn and fearful. Not Molly. Perhaps she was different with Dare, in private.

But in his presence, she wasn’t intrusive, needy or whiney. In fact, she tried hard not to inconvenience them in any way.

Chris shook his head. He knew Dare expected him to resent female intrusion, and before Molly, he would have. He protected his position, and he always had Dare’s back.

With Molly, there was no threat—not of the type he’d always guarded against.

If anything, he fell in line with Dare, sharing the need to keep her safe and help her feel secure.