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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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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he still heard himself say, “She and Trace are more like family than my real family is.”

      She thought for a second, then asked, “Do you see your parents often?”

      Dare shook his head and relaxed a little. He could talk about this, about his parents, without the sentiment. “Dad died in a small-plane crash years ago. Mom is remarried and living in Michigan. I visit with her a couple of times a year.”

      “You’re not close?”

      “Not really, not since Dad died.” He shrugged. “We get along fine, mostly because we don’t see each other real often.” He waited for her to dig into that, and he had no idea what he’d tell her.

      How could he make her understand that he’d always been a loner? His mother hadn’t been the same since the plane crash, not that she’d ever been real clingy before that. But maybe it had nothing to do with his mother. He loved her, but he had no need to be in constant contact with her. She seemed to feel the same.

      Molly bypassed his expected questions to ask, “Any siblings?”

      This felt like an interrogation, but all things being equal, he supposed he owed her some info. “No. A stepbrother from Mom’s second marriage. He’s a doctor. Nice enough guy.” And Dare had nothing in common with him.

      “Does your mother know what you do?”

      Hell, no. Only a handful of people were trusted enough to know the full truth. “She knows I hire out as a defense and security specialist. The nitty-gritty details aren’t up for public consumption.”

      “Even with your mother?”

      Leveling a look on her, Dare emphasized, “With no one.”

      “Oh.” Molly retreated emotionally. “Sorry.”

      Damn it. Dare felt her withdrawal, and it pissed him off. It wasn’t her fault that he’d already told her more than most knew. Only Chris and Trace were privy to the private particulars of his work, but for some reason, talking with Molly was far too easy.

      If he wasn’t careful, he’d find himself spilling his guts—and he knew that wouldn’t be smart, or prudent. “Forget about it.”

      “I didn’t mean to pry.”

      “Yeah, you did. But it’s okay. We might as well get this over with.”

      She winced.

      Because he was watching her so closely, Dare saw her uneasiness, and it bothered him. She’d been through enough without him badgering her. Gently, he asked, “Anything else you want to know, Molly?”

      Her bravery waned, but she finally asked, “Do you travel a lot with your work?”

      “These days, not as far and not as often. Trace says I’m semiretired. Only when a really important case comes along do I get involved.” Only when he felt he was truly needed, or if it became personal, as it had with Alani.

      Neither of them would ever say that it was a good thing that Alani had been taken. But at the same time, if she hadn’t been … what would have happened to Molly? If not for Alani, Dare wouldn’t have been there, and Molly would have had no one to get her out of that hellhole, and no one to protect her even if she had managed to escape.

      As if they shared that thought, their gazes locked and held. Dare felt the growing sexual tension between them.

      Molly’s lips parted; Dare’s control slipped.

      Knowing he was a goner, he took a step toward her—and his cell phone rang. Brought back to his senses, Dare stopped dead in his tracks.

      Sad, and maybe a little lost, Molly gave a halfhearted smile. “Do you need privacy for that call?”

      Oh, no, he wouldn’t let her slip away that easily. “No. Stay put.” He waited until she leaned back against the wall, then added, “I’ll only be a second.”

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      DARE HATED THE interruption, but since most calls went through the house phone, where Chris could vet them, any call on his cell was personal and therefore important.

      With one last lingering look at Molly, he walked over to retrieve his phone from atop the refrigerator. After a quick glance at the number to identify his caller, he flipped the phone open. “Yeah?”

      Without preamble, Trace said, “Would you be willing to do me a favor?”

      “Depends.” Dare looked at Molly. For Trace, he usually gave blind agreement, knowing that his friend only asked when necessary. But now he had someone else’s welfare to consider. For now at least, ensuring Molly’s safety was his number-one priority. “What’s up?”

      Frustration sounded in Trace’s tone. “Alani is insisting on meeting your … complication.”

      Dare’s mouth twitched at how Trace put that. Molly was a complication, all right, in more ways than he’d figured on. But maybe he should stop referring to her as such, considering how she’d gotten under his skin. “Why?”

      “Hell if I know. I hate to ask, Dare. God knows you’ve done enough. But I think it might be good for her to talk to another woman who’s been through the same thing.”

      Watching Molly wander over to the heavy bag to give it a tentative push, Dare said, “It wasn’t the same. I told you that.”

      “And I told Alani. But she’s pressing me for a meeting anyway.”

      Molly tried smacking the heavy bag, and, with an expression of pain, she cradled her hand and frowned.

      The personalities of the two women couldn’t be more disparate; one was a commonsense survivor, the other a very lovable princess. “Want to tell me why?”

      It wasn’t easy for Trace to admit that he needed help with his sister. “She’s having trouble adjusting, Dare. I’m worried about her.”

      “Hang on.” Dare lowered the phone, which gained Molly’s attention. When she looked toward him, he said, “Alani wants to meet with you.”

      Surprise flashed over her features. “Me? But why?”

      “You were both taken, both held against your will. Knowing Alani, she’s probably worried about you still, and she maybe just wants to connect with someone who’ll understand what she’s been through.” Already knowing what her answer would be, Dare waited.

      “Is she okay?”

      That was debatable, but Dare said only, “She’s safe and healthy, and still coping.”

      “Well, sure. I mean, of course she is.” Hands together, brows down in worry, Molly nodded. “I’d be happy to meet her if she thinks that will help. But when?”

      Dare went back to the phone. “No problem, Trace. When were you thinking?”

      “Let me talk to Alani, and I’ll get back to you. We’ll work it out.”

      “Give me a call when you know.”

      “Will do. And Dare, thank you.”

      They hung up, and Dare dropped the phone down onto his gloves. He watched Molly, saw her put her hand to her stomach as if to calm an unsteady belly. Did the idea of meeting with Alani distress her? Would it be an ugly reminder to her of how she had been separated and treated differently from the others?

      “I feel so bad for her.” She looked up at Dare. “She’s young, isn’t she?”

      Molly’s capacity for compassion amazed Dare. “She’s twenty-two.”

      Appearing distressed, Molly shook her head. “Thank God she has you, Dare. I’m not sure anyone else could have gotten her out of there.”

      Dare stepped over closer to the heavy bag. “Molly?”

      She


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