When You Dare (23 page)

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

“I’ll say.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Molly went blank. “He told you?”

Chris nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That bugged him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nodded as she continued to look around.

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

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

Her gaze came back to him.

Then went over him. Slowly.

She drew in a shaky breath.

Ah. She still wanted him. Good thing, too, since he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to wait.

Maybe he should have taken her last night. That thought had driven him to a hard jog, and then a pounding workout. Not that the exertion had worked to relieve his need. Not enough.

He burned with wanting her. It was insane, unaccountable, but Ms. Molly Alexander pushed all his buttons. Even now, covered in sweat, he could take her. He saw it in her eyes and in the way she held herself. It was a unique type of hell, having to resist her.

But never in his life had he abused anyone’s trust, and he wasn’t going to start now. They would both live with the need until the time was right. Waiting just meant that when he did finally have her, there’d be no holding back.

She had to be ready, because he intended to keep her naked and in the bed for hours.

Affected by her intimate look, Dare dropped his head to stare at his feet in consternation. Molly couldn’t hide her feelings worth a damn, which meant her physical attraction to him was more than obvious—and it pushed him.

He’d just spent a long time trying to work off the sexual tension, but knowing how much she wanted him brought it all right back.

Watching her, Dare swigged the water, set the bottle aside and took a few steps closer. “I’m sweaty.”

She looked from his bare feet to his hips to his chest, bit her lips and said, “You look powerful, like an ancient warrior.”

That sentiment surprised a short laugh out of him. “If you say so.” Trying to put her at ease, he added, “I like to wear as little as possible when I’m working out. Gives me more freedom of movement.”

“I see.” She glanced down at his gym shorts, and then away. “How often do you do this?”

“This?”

“Work out for so long.”

Hadn’t been long enough to alleviate his knotted muscles, but he saw no point in telling her that. Instead, he rolled a shoulder. “Whenever I can.” He thought to add, “It’s important for me to stay in shape.”

Her gaze latched on to his again. “Because of what you do?”

“Yeah.” And because of what he might have to do. In his line of work, chasing down a target was as likely as a direct physical confrontation. And in more than one instance, he’d had to combat multiple adversaries.

He always won.

Molly crossed her arms under her breasts. “I, um, I saw you hitting that punching bag.”

“A heavy bag.” Dare flexed his hands inside the fingerless gloves. His muscles burned, and so did his libido. “I use it to practice strikes and kicks.” He knew how to debilitate, or even kill, with a single blow.

“You’re really good, aren’t you?”

He was, but she hadn’t come down here to compliment him, and they both knew it. “I have to be good at my job, Molly. And that includes being able to defend myself, and others.”

“Like you defended me?”

He’d killed for her. Remembering that, thinking of how she’d looked when he found her, added a strain to his tone. “I do what I have to do.”

“Have you killed many people?”

Narrowing his eyes, Dare stared at her, trying to figure out where she was going with this. But for once, she hid her thoughts from him.

Would she be disgusted with the truth? Could she handle the reality of what he did? “Let’s just say that I’ve killed on more than one occasion and let it go at that.” Waiting for her reaction, he walked over to the bench and sat down to unlace his gloves.

“It’s easy for you?”

“Not easy, no. Just accepted.” Hoping she’d understand, Dare said, “It’s important for me to have that capability, and to know that I won’t hesitate to go there—when it’s necessary.”