Men Of Honour. Lori Foster
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“I won’t be leaving you.”
Exasperated, she forged on without missing a beat. “Or I might want my privacy, so I think I’ll bring them along. Just in case.”
For the longest time he watched her, until a slight smile transformed his stern expression. “There’s something so damn sexy about a take-charge woman.”
The quick switch threw her; Dare had the strangest way of interpreting things.
He continued to look her over, her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth.
Discomfited by his probing stare, she finally said, “What?”
“Sorry.” He shook his head. “Seeing you in makeup … It’s surprising.”
Fidgeting, Molly asked, “In a good way, I hope?”
“You look classy. Polished.” He bent for a quick kiss. “I got used to seeing you barefaced, but you always look good, never doubt it.”
Did that mean he preferred her without makeup? “Thank you.”
“One thing.” His gaze sharpened. “Did you spruce up for your father, or just because you wanted to?”
Molly laughed with disdain. “Oh, trust me, Dad wouldn’t notice if I was bald and painted blue. But, yeah, Kathi can be critical. She’s really into appearances. Being snatched off the street and taken across the country for torment is no excuse for not looking your best.”
Dare turned away with disgust. “Kathi sounds like a real twit.” Then he indicated her overflowing luggage. “You done with this?”
Glad that he hadn’t mentioned how much she’d packed, Molly nodded. She didn’t want Dare to think she was moving in or taking advantage of his hospitality. But like most women, she liked to be prepared. “Yes, thank you.”
“I’m not your stepmother.”
She snorted. “An indisputable fact.”
“I just meant that you don’t have to be all proper with me.” He closed the lid and lifted the heavy case off the bed without any effort at all. “You want to get your stuff together for the bank and the post office? I’d like to carry everything to my SUV in one trip.”
Likely because he wanted to be at her side every second. Molly had been with him enough to understand how seriously he took his intent to keep her safe.
“Sure.” She went into the kitchen to get a plastic grocery bag. She couldn’t help but notice that Dare had been busy. He’d found one of her big green plastic garbage bags and filled it with old food from the fridge and the empty pizza boxes and cola cans.
Usually she recycled, but she couldn’t see making an issue of it now. That he’d done so much work in her kitchen amused her and at the same time made her feel like a slug. Hands on her hips, she told him, “You cleaned.”
“I like to keep busy.” He helped her store her packages into the bag, and she gathered up the checks she needed to deposit. “You have your account numbers?”
“I know them. But I do need to cancel my credit cards.”
She could see him making a mental list when he said, “We have a lot to take care of today.”
“If we go to the bank before the post office, I can get some money.” And maybe on the drive back to his place, they could stop for her to buy an actual wallet to keep the money in. But she’d broach that possibility later.
At the mention of money, Dare started to say something, then wisely changed his mind. “If that’s what you want.”
The long-suffering way he said that gave her pause. “I’m perfectly capable of paying my own way, you know. If I somehow made you think otherwise—”
“No, it’s not that. I know you’re financially independent.” He nodded toward her bookcase—which he’d also straightened. “That’s quite an impressive showing.”
The bookcase held not only the books she liked to read, but many of her own in various formats. “I grabbed a few copies for you and Chris, with no obligation that you’ll have to read them.”
“Thank you.” He used the side of his hand to tip up her face. “Anyone can see that you’re a successful woman. It’s just that I don’t want you to have to worry about financial stuff right now.”
“I’ll feel better having my own money with me.”
He rubbed a hand over his mouth, considered what she’d said and then gave in with a nod. “Yeah, I know I’d feel the same.” He cupped the back of her neck and kissed her. “Anything else?”
The way he constantly kissed her and touched her was like a balm to her abused spirit. And it gave her hope that her affection was returned.
“Molly?”
She shook off the warmth of his attention. “Is it all right if I call my agent and editor, too?” She’d always been conscientious about her work, and wondering what they both thought plagued her. “I really need to get in touch with them. I’m sure they’re confused as to why I just disappeared.”
“How about after we leave your dad’s?”
“That’ll work. It’s too early right now anyway.” With all the arrangements made, Dare gathered up everything they had to take out. Molly turned off the lights, and they left the apartment.
WITH EACH PASSING mile, Molly’s dread grew until finally they pulled into her father’s estate. Anxiety kept her chewing her lip, until Dare squeezed her thigh.
“Relax, will you?”
It amazed her that he paid almost no attention to her father’s obvious wealth. But then, she didn’t, either. For her, the massive estate represented only sadness.
To her, Dare’s home was far more magnificent—and was about half the size of her father’s.
She’d grown up knowing what material things meant to her dad and how skewed his priorities were. Bishop Alexander would do just about anything to maintain his wealth.
Dare wasn’t like that at all. He was a man of substance, a man who had amassed wealth, but not at the expense of others. Just the opposite.
“When Adrian first saw this,” she said, indicating the vast European-style home ahead of them down the long drive, “I swear he almost drooled.”
Dare took off his mirrored sunglasses and leaned forward to look out the windshield as he slowed. But it wasn’t with awe.
“The security is lacking. Anyone who can afford a home that size should have a gated and monitored entry.”
Molly shrugged. “There are sensors around the grounds. But deer come through here, along with a lot of other wildlife, and they were forever setting off alarms. Dad gave up years ago and hired people to keep an eye on the place instead of technology.”