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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keep her safe. Don’t let her off the grounds, but maybe she’d like to check out the lake, explore the woods a little.” Dare stood and fished his keys from his pocket. “Make sure she drinks plenty of fluids, too. Whatever she likes. Order it if we don’t have it. And I want her to eat. She has to build up her—”
Exasperated, Chris pushed out of his chair to interrupt Dare’s laundry list of instructions. “I was kidding about babysitting, Dare. I can handle it. Just go. The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll be back, and the sooner I can give up guard duty.”
Dare slapped him on the shoulder. Once again he appreciated having Chris around. Too many times over the years, trusted friends had been few and far between. “I’ll keep you posted.”
Dare went to the dogs and told them both that he’d be back soon. They were smart, and they understood the difference between an extended trip that involved his duffel bag, and one that’d last only a few hours. They followed him to the door but showed no signs of anxiety.
“You girls keep Molly company, okay?” To Sargie he said, “And no shenanigans. I don’t want you to wear her out.” As Dare went out the door, he realized he was already missing her, and it pissed him off.
Hopefully, once he secured her safety, he could take her to his bed with no intention of sleeping. Once he had her, then he’d be able to get her out of his system. He’d have to.
There was no room for a romantic relationship in his line of work—and he was a long way from retiring.
CHAPTER NINE
DARE SAT IN HIS SUV, waiting. Impatient, but unwavering. He’d done many stakeouts, but this one was different. This time he wasn’t watching for the victim or planning to trail a suspect. This time, he wanted information only.
And he’d get what he wanted. Already he’d discovered things, and he didn’t like any of it. Now he needed more. He needed a clearer picture of the circumstances.
Molly’s father could supply that.
Trace had been invaluable in doing a quick rundown on Bishop Alexander. A more thorough analysis would follow; in fact, Trace was working on that right now. He would scour Bishop’s past, dig into his present and even take apart future plans to get as much intelligence as possible. Very shortly, Dare would know more about Bishop Alexander than he knew of himself.
Dare grinned, glad that he’d have an opportunity to return Trace’s money to him. Accepting financial compensation from his friend hadn’t felt right, especially when the job involved Alani. Years of hard work, wise investments and good sense had already amassed him a small fortune. He didn’t need Trace’s money. He didn’t really need anyone’s money. More often than not, he continued to accept assignments to keep his edge and to feed his need for excitement.
Money had little to do with it these days. Thanks to Trace’s incomparable investigative skills, Dare now had the excuse to pay him back in full.
Dare considered the information Trace had already supplied. By all accounts, Molly’s father felt omnipotent to all the “lesser” people around him, including his daughters and his wife. Other than some shady business dealings, he didn’t even try to conceal his transgressions. Because he hadn’t done a very good job of building a bond with a longstanding assistant, it had been easy to glean info.
Some people had no idea how to cover their tracks.
One kernel of data led to another, public records gave clues to private information—and now Dare had enough to accomplish his task today.
Beneath the shade of an ornamental tree that blocked some of the bright sunshine, Dare had watched Bishop drive up in a shiny black Mercedes. The older man had emerged in GQ golf duds, a cell phone to his ear and a shiny platinum ring glinting on his finger.
Bishop had paid little enough attention to the valet as the young man took his keys to park the car. Dare heard him laugh, saw him lift a hand to hail other men and then join a small group of distinguished-looking friends or colleagues.
Bishop Alexander did not act like a man with a missing daughter.
That had been hours ago. Sooner or later, he had to come back out. Dare checked his watch and considered what his next move would be. Should he confront Bishop here, in front of the others?
How dare the man play golf anyway? Wasn’t he worried about Molly? Or was it just that he had business responsibilities? Dare well knew the value of cultivating connections; could this be Bishop’s purpose today? Maybe he was putting on a good front to hide the personal troubles in his own family.
The emotional involvement of this assignment was different for Dare. Usually he hunted for the truth with detached resolve. He did a good job because that’s what he was paid to do.
Now, for Molly, he wanted to ferret out the truth because keeping her safe mattered to him personally.
Last night … God almighty, he’d wanted her. He still wanted her. Being away from her hadn’t changed that.
But last night she’d needed something altogether different from him. She hadn’t even noticed his boner, or the heat pouring off him. She’d held on to him like a lifeline, and … he’d liked it. He liked her.
It didn’t matter how hard the circumstances might be on him; until Molly got through this, until she regained some control over her life, he would continue to do what he could for her. If that meant holding her every damn night, then so be it.
He would damn well keep his hands to himself.
Until she was ready.
Dare was thinking of her eventual readiness when Bishop finally emerged from the club. Though he’d been out in the sun for hours, his well-groomed, silver-tipped hair looked like it had just been styled. Aviator sunglasses hid his eyes, but not his smile as he chatted up another, taller man. They laughed together, and Bishop clapped the other fellow on the shoulder as a farewell. The friend veered off in a different direction, leaving Bishop alone, waiting on the valet.
Fuck it.
Before the valet noticed him, Dare got out of his car and looked over the roof. “Bishop Alexander?”
Molly’s father looked up.
Predatory anticipation filled Dare. “Got a minute?”
Taking off his glasses, Bishop stared toward Dare. “Do I know you?”
Dare didn’t move from his relaxed position outside the driver’s side of his SUV. “We haven’t formally met, but your daughter has told me about you.”
Bishop went still, but only for a second. A calculated expression reshaped his features, and he slunk closer with caution. “Which daughter would that be?”
Of course the bastard felt safe. They were in front of an exclusive club where only members were allowed. Bishop wouldn’t realize that Dare went where he wanted, when he wanted. Getting past the gate had been child’s play for a man of his means.
For Bishop, his money and social influence were his strength. But Dare didn’t give a shit about any of that.
“The daughter who’s been missing.”
In an instant, Bishop’s jaw firmed, and he surged forward with the confidence of a man used to power and prestige. “What do you know of that?”
So he realized Molly had been missing. Interesting. “I found Molly, and I thought you might be interested in the … details.”
That did it. After waving off the approaching valet, Bishop moved to confront Dare. Voice lowered and infused with suspicion, he said, “I don’t know what this is about, but if you think to blackmail me, I can tell you that it won’t work. You won’t get a single cent from me.”
It took all of Dare’s resolve not to plant his fist in Bishop’s face. Feigning a boredom he didn’t feel, Dare said, “Does