Men of Honour: Ready, Set, Jett / When You Dare / Trace of Fever / Savor the Danger / A Perfect Storm / What Chris Wants / Bare It All. Lori Foster
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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