Men Of Honour. Lori Foster
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“At least I’m dressed, but you’re all but naked.”
Chris’s brows shot up. “I’m wearing shorts.”
“That barely cover you.”
He shifted his stance, put off by what sounded like censure. “Is that a complaint?”
Her smile didn’t quite answer one way or the other. “It is so beautiful here.” She turned a full circle. “And so incredibly quiet.”
“Secure, too,” Dare told her. Then, tired of the verbal games, he asked Chris, “You reset the alarm codes?”
“Soon as you cleared the gate. And I went grocery shopping for you, too. Fresh food is in the kitchen. After I put your car away, I could cook you something—”
“I’ll take care of it.” He turned to Molly. “Chris makes a lousy cook.”
“Says the master chef.”
Molly looked impressed. “You’re a master chef?”
“Pure sarcasm.” Chris ushered her along and then held the door open for her. “But he is good. At freakin’ everything. So get used to it.”
Molly stepped inside and went awestruck again. “Holy cow.”
Chris paid no attention to her. “Wasn’t sure if you needed it or not, but I freshened up the back bedroom upstairs.”
“Thanks. I’ll get her settled.”
“Want me to put your things away?”
Normally, yes, but this time Dare’s priority was Molly, not checking messages. “I’ll do it.”
“Okay, then. I’ll be right back.” He took the keys from Dare and strolled out to the SUV.
DARE WATCHED MOLLY AS she looked around the central foyer.
“It’s a mansion.”
“Not really.” He was a man of comfort, and, as such, though the house had a lot of amenities, it wasn’t fancy enough to be called a mansion.
“I’ll get lost in here.”
Dare shook his head. “I wouldn’t expect someone with your background to be in awe of a house.”
She gave him a telling look. “I’ve known plenty of wealthy people, and they’re not at all like you. What I mean is, you don’t act like you’re rich. You’re too nice and normal for that.”
“Glad you think so.” With a total of forty-five hundred feet of living space, the house was … expansive. But it was divided up in a functional way. To help Molly get acclimated, Dare said, “Think of it as circular. Everything revolves from this spot. Dining hall on the left, library on the right. Straight ahead, up the curving stairs, are a studio and three other bedrooms. You’ll have a room up there.”
She jerked around to stare at him with clear alarm. “Where do you sleep?”
Indicating beyond the stairs, on the main floor, Dare said, “Master bedroom and bath are on the right, end of the hall is the great room, then the kitchen, morning room, laundry and family room are to the left.”
As the dogs moved closer to her, their nails tapped on the marble floor, drawing her attention there. She looked down at them, then up at the recessed ceilings and giant, rustic chandelier. “It’s … gorgeous. And enormous.”
“Thanks.” Dare picked up his duffel and again touched the small of her back, urging her toward the stairs ahead of him. “I’ll show you to your room.” The dogs started forward in anticipation.
He got her halfway up the stairs before Molly resisted, glancing up at him. “Who else sleeps up there?”
“No one. I have the master suite, and Chris stays in the lake house.” Thinking she was worried about privacy, Dare assured her, “You’ll pretty much have the whole upstairs to yourself.”
Jaw loosening, she turned completely around on the middle of the stairs to face him. The dogs, too, looked at Dare with expectation. “You have another house?”
“A cabin, really, down closer to the lake.” He noticed the pink tinge to her cheeks, how her lips parted, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s small but functional. And Chris values having space he can call his own. Mostly because he’s a slob and I’m not.”
“Good God, a football team could live in this house and have plenty of space.”
Dare couldn’t help himself; he leaned forward and kissed her. With her a step above him, it was the perfect fit. “You’ll be safe here, Molly, no reason to be concerned. The house is wired for state-of-the-art security. Know that you’ll be protected.”
She touched her mouth—and continued to look … reluctant. “I wasn’t … wasn’t worried about that.”
“Yeah, you were. But it’s understandable. Hell, I’d be more concerned if you weren’t. Now, come on.” He took the lead, stepping around her and going up the rest of the stairs. The dogs followed him in a rush. “The back bedroom faces the lake. I think you’ll like it.”
“How could I not? It’s all incredible. Very masculine, but somehow posh, too.”
“It’s relaxed—suitable for dogs and two men.” Dare waited at the top of the stairs, watching her.
“I’m sure you guys are very comfortable here, but a woman could be, too.” She followed him up. “Who did your decorating?”
Pleased with her, Dare turned toward one of the bedrooms. “I did.”
“Oh, that’s right.” She twisted her mouth. “Chris said you were good at everything.”
“Chris is paid to be biased.” The dogs forged ahead of him, trying to anticipate his destination.
“But you two are friends, too. You said he’s not just an employee.”
“We’re good friends, have been for years.” Over twenty years, actually … but that was a story for another time.
Dare went into the second largest bedroom and set his duffel on a queen-size four-poster bed. It was made up with soft, warm, hand-sewn quilts and luxurious sheets.
The dogs circled the perimeter of the room, trying to watch both Dare and Molly as she looked lost and he unloaded the few clothes and toiletries currently in her possession. It wasn’t much, but right now, here with him, she didn’t need much.
Attempting to hide her anxiety from him, she patted the dogs and then went to peek into the bathroom.
She would be comfortable here, Dare told himself.
So why was he feeling guilty?
Hands on his hips, he tracked her every movement, trying to gauge her mood, to determine a way to reassure her without crossing boundaries. Hell, he’d already crossed so many lines it shouldn’t matter anymore … but it did.
“Go ahead and put your stuff in the drawers, set up however you want, make yourself at home. The television remotes are on the shelf. There are DVDs in the library if you want to hunt through those. You can bring a bunch up here if you want.”
“Thanks.”
Damn it, she sounded so lost. “The computer is hooked up to the internet, so feel free to surf, to entertain yourself. But don’t check any personal accounts. I don’t want you to sign in under your name for anything. It’s too easy to track.”
“Okay.” She showed little interest in the TV or the computer.
More frustrated by the second, Dare narrowed his eyes. “If you need anything else, just ask.”
She went over to look out the French doors that opened onto a small deck overlooking the yard below—which led down to the lake.