When You Dare (6 page)

“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.”

M
OLLY 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.