Men Of Honour. Lori Foster

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something must have happened for him to react like this.

      Or maybe he’d felt that spark of interest from her … and he wanted no part of it. Remembering his concern for his girls, Molly started to tremble. Who were they? Dare didn’t notice her reaction as he put in a call to “Chris” and gave instructions that she barely registered.

      Was Chris his girlfriend? Or … more? She supposed Chris could be a male friend, or maybe just an employee or colleague.

      She should just ask him—but his personal life was no business of hers.

      Dare closed the phone, set it on the desk, crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her.

      Her mouth went dry … until he said, “I bought the scissors you wanted. But before you use them, I want you to at least try to get the tangles out.”

      IT ANNOYED DARE, THE way she insisted that she felt fine. Anyone could see that the remnants of her nightmare still dragged at her. He knew from experience that an emotional drain could be as bad as, sometimes worse than, physical exhaustion.

      Silent, withdrawn from him, she ruthlessly tugged the wide-toothed comb through her hair. As much as Dare tried to ignore it, he … couldn’t.

      Shoving away from the window and the beat-up red Ford truck he’d been watching, he stalked to her chair, pulled it from the table so he could get behind her, and said, “Let me have it.”

      Twisting around to stare up at him, she asked, “What?”

      “The comb.” He took it from her hand. “You’re just yanking through the tangles.”

      Her eyes widened at him. “Because it’ll take all day otherwise.”

      “You need to learn some patience.” Lifting a hank of hair, he started at the bottom and used his fingers to separate the biggest tangles, then eased the comb through, working his way up until that hank of hair was smooth. When he finished, he went on to the next section.

      Frozen, too quiet, Molly never objected when the comb snagged and pulled. He needed to get her talking again. Before they left the room, he wanted to know as much about her as he could.

      “You mentioned a boyfriend.”

      “Ex.”

      That implied a conflict—possibly big enough to account for an abduction and deliberate mistreatment? “Tell me what happened.”

      She shrugged. “He wanted me to buy him rims for his car. I refused. We argued, and … things just fell apart.”

      Unable to imagine that, Dare frowned. “Why would he want you to buy him rims?”

      One shoulder lifted. “I’d gotten a big check from the movie deal, so I guess he figured I could afford it.” She tilted her head around to see him. “He wasn’t the only one who thought I should have been bestowing gifts. Actually, just about everyone thought I should share.”

      “I don’t know about everyone, but your boyfriend sounds like an ass.”

      “Ex.” Her laughter surprised him. “And I guess he is. But I didn’t know that until my career took off. Before that, he was generous and fun. It’s not like he’s a pauper himself. Adrian owns a bar, and it does pretty good.”

      With the back of her hair now smooth, Dare moved to her side. “So, just out of the blue, he asked you to buy him things?”

      “Sort of.”

      He watched her profile as he worked through the tangles and saw her chin tighten in memory.

      “We were heading home after lunch, and he pulled into this specialty shop, saying he wanted to look at some things. Car stuff bores me, but I went in and waited around while he and a salesman talked for what felt like forever. Then he came over to me and showed me the rims he wanted.” She shook her head. “I know nothing about rims, so I just oohed and aahed over them, you know?”

      Dare nodded. “Patronized him.”

      “Well … Yes, I guess.”

      Dare didn’t fault her for that. “And?”

      “He told me he couldn’t afford them. So I asked why we were there, then, and he got frustrated with me.”

      Molly Alexander was an upfront, tell-it-like-it-is kind of woman. Subterfuge would be wasted on her. Imagining it almost made Dare smile. “You weren’t picking up on his cues.”

      “Apparently not.” She moved suddenly, saying, “Really, Dare, I could finish this.”

      He held the comb out of her reach. “You had your chance.” He liked to finish what he started. And besides, he was sort of enjoying it.

      Resigned, Molly crossed her legs and arms and shrugged.

      Prompting her, Dare said, “You argued over the rims? There at the shop?”

      “More or less. When he flat out said that I could afford them, and he wanted them, I just laughed. I mean, what do I want with rims? It’s not so much that he asked me to buy him things, but how he did it. Just … demanding almost. And then he got furious, causing a big scene.”

      Dare shook his head.

      “It was ridiculous and embarrassing, and when I told him to knock it off, he stormed out.”

      “Must have been an uncomfortable ride home.” Although he figured that in most situations, Molly could hold her own.

      She snorted. “I wouldn’t know. I took a cab.”

      “He left without you?”

      “He was still railing when I left the store to follow him, so I refused to get in the car until he calmed down. Calming down wasn’t his priority, so, yeah, he left me standing there.” She let out a long breath. “And for me, that was that. Later, Adrian tried apologizing, but I’m not big on public humiliation.”

      “Few people are.”

      “There’d been little things before then, and it all added up. The scene in the car shop was enough for me to realize how his true colors had begun to show once I started making more money with my writing. I made a choice not to be used.”

      At least she hadn’t been in love with him, Dare thought. A woman in love didn’t let a few money disagreements, regardless of how unpleasant they might be, end things. “All done.”

      She ran a hand over her hair, then looked at the small pile of hair on the table, comprised of the knots they’d pulled free and had to remove from the comb.

      “Looks like we killed a rat.”

      He almost smiled—and his cell rang. While he answered the call from Chris, Molly tidied up again, then took the brush he’d bought and went into the bathroom. He heard the blow-dryer turn on with a loud whir. She closed the door to spare him the noise.

      “What do you have for me, Chris?”

      “Your

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