When You Dare. Lori Foster
if he dragged home rescue victims on a regular basis, Dare shrugged. “My place, first. I have a few things I have to do at home. Then I’ll accompany you to your place.”
Taking his words like a blow, she went to the bed and gingerly sat at the edge. “Oh. Okay.”
“I’ll be with you.”
She tried a smile that fell flat.
“Molly. You have to go back to your place sooner or later, right?”
“Of course I do.” She put her shoulders back in telling reaction. “I need to talk with my editor and agent. I have … plants to water.” She chewed her lip. “I need my flash drives and my own clothes and …” She shook her head. “Going back will be good.”
Had she considered refusing? Dare frowned, then retrieved the first-aid kit from his bag. Given his line of work, he carried a more extensive supply of medicines and bandages than what was found in an average first-aid kit. He dragged a chair over and turned it to face her.
When he sat, he looked at her and saw again that she avoided his gaze. “That’s it? Wholehearted acceptance, but no questions?”
She inhaled, expanding that impressive chest so that she filled out the oversized shirt. Her gaze skittered up to meet his. “You don’t seem real forthcoming with information, and I don’t want to do anything to make you regret your decision to stick with me.”
An upfront answer. He should have known where her thoughts had taken her. “You think you’ve been a big imposition?”
She eyed the first-aid kit warily, but didn’t mention it. “If not for me, you’d already be home, right? Instead, you had to deal with me and my problems. I don’t like being dependent on anyone, and I really don’t like putting you out.”
“Since we’re flying out today, I was only delayed one night. And if you mean the clothes and food—”
“Well, that and …” Her tongue flicked over her bottom lip with nervousness. “Sleeping with you.”
There was that. “You had a nightmare. Don’t worry about it.”
She glanced up and away. “Logically I know I’m okay now, but at night, in the dark …”
“Yeah.” He’d saved women before, but he hadn’t slept with them. Hell, he’d had sex with plenty of women without sleeping with them.
“Usually,” he said, “once I have a woman out of harm’s way, she goes immediately to someone else—someone she trusts. Most often it’s the person who paid me to get her out in the first place.” And if the woman had nightmares, well, she had someone other than Dare to get her through it.
Molly nodded. “And with me, you not only haven’t been paid, you’re sort of stuck with me.”
“Not stuck, no.” He’d made the decision that she would remain with him. He never allowed others to coerce him, not in any way. “But understand, Molly—for now, I’m going to keep you safe. After I figure out the threat and decide how best to resolve it, then we’ll come to terms on our agreement.”
“Financially, you mean.”
What else? He nodded affirmation, but said, “That, and more.”
“Such as …?”
He opened the first-aid kit. “If I’m going to be in charge of your safety, you have to follow my directions to the letter. No balking, no arguments.”
She licked her lips again—and nodded.
“Good. We’ll start with me checking out some of these cuts and scrapes that you have. The last thing you need is an infection.” He looked at her. “Give me your arm.”
As if only then realizing that she might have cuts, Molly looked at each arm. “I can take care of it.”
“I can take care of it better.”
“Who says?”
“I say.” Hadn’t he already proven his capability with her hair?
Dare caught her arm and pulled her forward to reach the injury. Ignoring her protestation, he said, “This’ll sting a little.” He swiped the cut with the antiseptic and heard her hiss in a breath, but she didn’t move and she didn’t complain. The cut wasn’t deep and didn’t need stitches, but he dabbed it with an antibiotic ointment and covered it with a bandage.
The procedure was repeated on a small spot on her other arm, and when he looked down at her legs, her toes curled.
“Dare, really …” He bent to a scrape on her inner thigh, and she said in a rush, “Shouldn’t I at least know your last name?”
Her high, shrill voice amused him. It wasn’t from fear that she nearly screeched at him. No, it was … something else. But definitely not fear.
“Macintosh.”
“Well, surely, Dare Macintosh, you will admit I can reach my own legs!”
She could—but he wanted to do it. Why, he couldn’t honestly say, but a small lie would work. “I need to know it’s done right, so just hush and sit still.”
Molly had sleek, shapely legs and small feet. Her skin, where it wasn’t hurt, was smooth and soft. He cupped the back of her knee and lifted her leg to treat what looked like rug burns. Since there’d been no carpeting in the trailer, he assumed the injuries were caused during her abduction. He wanted to know more about that, and would, soon.
He found two more deep scratches on her legs, and a cut on the side of her foot. As he treated her foot, he decided she’d need more than loose sandals to keep it protected.
He sat back. “Anywhere else?”
She rolled in her lips, released them, and gave in, putting a hand to the back of her neck. “I’m not sure, but there might be something here. It stung a little when I was showering.” Lifting her hair, she turned to show him.
Dare flinched in rage. Clearly, someone had choked her, given the finger marks on her slender throat. Above the faded bruising, a deep scratch showed.
Under his breath, but not softly enough, Dare whispered, “Fuckers.”
She swallowed. “The bruises are left over from when I was first taken. I didn’t go along easily.”
And so someone had choked her?
“They’re almost gone now,” she said, as if trying to reassure him.
“Not gone enough.” He touched her shoulder, and felt her shiver as he turned her a little more so he could better see.
While holding up her hair, she dropped her head forward, and the pose was so innocently provocative, and yet so trusting, that he felt himself stir.
Damn it, it wasn’t lust. What she made him feel was something more powerful than that—and more disturbing. He shook it off to concentrate on her injuries.
“How’d you get this scratch?” It looked deep, healed over a little, but still painful.
Her narrow shoulders lifted. “One of them wore an ornate ring.”
And the bastard had been manhandling her enough to cut her with it? Yeah, Dare decided, he’d be protecting her—but he decided against sharing solid decisions with her yet. He needed a lot more info, and it’d be best if she thought his compliance hinged on her giving full truths.
In his experience, too many people had secrets that could alter the outcome of an event.
Dare treated the scratch, but didn’t bandage it. “Done.”
“So …” She turned on the bed again, facing him as he replaced the chair. “You’ve made plans to leave.”
“In