to an older couple who stared at him, but said in an aside to Molly, “I take it you don’t bring many guys around?”
Molly refused to look up at anyone. “Just Adrian, but not even him for a while.”
She went in through the unlocked front door that let them into a foyer of sorts. Beyond them were two doors on either side of the building, presumably for apartments. On the right wall were four mailboxes.
Molly went to the stairs at the left. “I’m upstairs.”
Dare kept her ahead of him, but only by a few steps. Something didn’t feel right to him. He’d always been a gut-instinct type, and right now, his instincts were kicking hard.
There were two more units at the top of the stairs, one to the left and one to the right.
When Molly headed to the door on the right, Dare stopped her. “Let me go in first.”
Catching on to his concern, Molly froze. “You think something is wrong?”
“I don’t know.” He kept his tone low as he opened a compartment in his duffel and withdrew his Glock.
Staring at the weapon, Molly pressed back to the wall. “What are you doing?”
Keeping his gaze on the door, Dare set the bags beside her. “Wait right here. Don’t move. If you see anyone, call out to me. Otherwise, be quiet.” He stepped away.
Her hand snagged his arm in a desperate hold. “Dare?”
Sparing her a quick glance, he asked, “What?”
“You’re scaring me.”
“Not now, Molly.” This wasn’t the time to soothe her, or to explain. At the door, he listened but didn’t hear anything. The knob turned and the unlocked door opened with an ominous squeak typical to old homes. Even with the room in shadows, Dare could see the evidence of a search.
“Shit.”
“What?” she asked in a harsh whisper. “What is it?”
Dare spared her a warning glance that silenced her again, and then he slipped into the apartment. Someone had trashed her place.
Dare took it all in with a fast glance: furniture overturned, drawers ransacked, papers scattered. Books everywhere. Damn, but the woman had a lot of books.
She was not going to be happy.
Trusting her to stay where he’d left her, Dare ventured farther inside. Whoever had searched her place had left the kitchen lights on, but the drapes closed. Without making a sound, Dare went through each room. He found most of them in total disarray, but empty of intruders. Stepping over toppled furniture, clothes, books and garbage, Dare went back for Molly.
He found her standing in the open doorway, her face pinched and her eyes burning with anger.
“Damn it.” While stowing the gun at the small of his back, Dare strode over to her. “I told you to stay put.”
Her slim shoulders were weighed down by their heavy bags, with one hanging from each hand. Molly didn’t seem to notice as she stared around at her destroyed living room. “Who would do this?”
“Neither of us knows, and that’s why you damn well should have waited like you were told.” He took the bags from her and set them inside, then caught her arm and pulled her in, too. He closed and locked the door, caught her shoulders and pinned her to the wall.
She stared up at him without fear, her dark eyes huge—and, damn it, wounded.
But he couldn’t let her slide on this. Her safety depended on her following his every order to the letter.
Dare gripped her shoulders. “Here’s how this is going to work.” She felt so small and delicate in his hold that he had to struggle not to hug her close. “From now on, you’re going to do exactly what I tell you to do, how I tell you to do it. Do you understand me?”
She looked beyond him to the living room. Dare gently shook her. “This is important, Molly.”
“I know.” She sounded numb. “I guess I should have expected this. But the idea of someone going through my personal things …”
For now, Dare gave up. Later, he’d again go over the importance of her following his instructions. “It’s mostly just dumped, not broken.” He righted the chair closest to them and replaced the cushion. “We can straighten it up.”
Her tongue slicked out over dry lips. “I didn’t know you’d brought the gun.”
Damn, but he wanted her. When he had her climaxing under him, she wouldn’t worry about her rummaged apartment or his weapon. “I don’t go anywhere without it.”
“I should have remembered that.” Her gaze went to his hands, then back to his face. “If you’d found someone in here, would you have shot him?”
“What do you think?”
After a second of thought, she said, “Only if you had to.” She shuddered. “But I’m glad you had it, just in case.”
She was glad? So why, then, did she look so rattled?
Molly picked up a floral throw pillow from the floor. “As much as I hate to ask this, should we call the police?”
He hadn’t yet decided. “Why don’t you look around and see if anything is missing?”
As she did that, she removed her corduroy jacket and the colorful scarf and dropped them over the back of the couch, which was the only piece of furniture that hadn’t been turned or taken apart.
Arms crossed, she studied the room—and suddenly her eyes widened. “My manuscript.”
Forgoing concern for her shelves, broken pictures and a dumped plant, Molly launched over and around the mess to race into her bedroom.
Dare followed right behind her.
At a large desk, she drew up short and groaned.
The keyboard hung off the front of the desk, still connected by the cord. Papers were strewn everywhere, and scattered clothes half covered the area.
But the large flat-screen monitor appeared unbroken and all the cords seemed intact.
She picked up some papers, saying, “My contracts are all mixed up now.” She set the papers aside and turned full circle to see the room.
Dare did his own scrutiny, but for different reasons. Now that he knew there weren’t any intruders still lurking about, he realized that Molly’s regular wardrobe included a lot of provocative stuff. Panties in every color were mixed with camisoles and lacy bras. Draped over the open closet door was a skimpy red dress, and at the foot of the bed, a silky purple blouse lay bunched up with skinny jeans.
Huh. Somehow, he hadn’t pictured her like this. He’d figured her more for a T-shirt and sneakers kind of woman. Basic. Unadorned. Earthy.
And
