Lori Foster - Men of Honour - Ready, Set, Jett / When You Dare / Trace of Fever / Savor the Danger / A Perfect Storm / What Chris Wants / Bare It All

Her gaze latched on to his again. “Because of what you do?”

“Yeah.” And because of what he might have to do. In his line of work, chasing down a target was as likely as a direct physical confrontation. And in more than one instance, he’d had to combat multiple adversaries.

He always won.

Molly crossed her arms under her breasts. “I, um, I saw you hitting that punching bag.”

“A heavy bag.” Dare flexed his hands inside the fingerless gloves. His muscles burned, and so did his libido. “I use it to practice strikes and kicks.” He knew how to debilitate, or even kill, with a single blow.

“You’re really good, aren’t you?”

He was, but she hadn’t come down here to compliment him, and they both knew it. “I have to be good at my job, Molly. And that includes being able to defend myself, and others.”

“Like you defended me?”

He’d killed for her. Remembering that, thinking of how she’d looked when he found her, added a strain to his tone. “I do what I have to do.”

“Have you killed many people?”

Narrowing his eyes, Dare stared at her, trying to figure out where she was going with this. But for once, she hid her thoughts from him.

Would she be disgusted with the truth? Could she handle the reality of what he did? “Let’s just say that I’ve killed on more than one occasion and let it go at that.” Waiting for her reaction, he walked over to the bench and sat down to unlace his gloves.

“It’s easy for you?”

“Not easy, no. Just accepted.” Hoping she’d understand, Dare said, “It’s important for me to have that capability, and to know that I won’t hesitate to go there—when it’s necessary.”

“Why?”

She didn’t look frightened or disgusted, just very interested. Dare rested his forearms over his knees and studied her. “Knowing that I can go the distance, that I can do whatever has to be done to finish a job, makes me a better fighter because I can engage in a calm, calculated way, without fear.” And usually without anger. But then he thought of the incident in the Walmart parking lot, and how blindly furious he’d been when those men had tried to take her.

Without meaning to, without even trying, Molly fucked with his performance, demolishing years of skill and training.

She was dangerous, and he wanted her too much to care.

“It must be nice,” she said, surprising him with her acceptance of the darker side of his life. “To not be afraid, I mean.”

There it was, the reason for his restraint with her. For the rest of her life, Molly would remember what she’d suffered, and she would fear things that she hadn’t, until recently, known were possible. “You’re a nice woman, Molly. I wouldn’t want you to change.”

“I think you’re nice, too.”

If vipers could be considered nice.

It was important to him that she understood one crucial aspect of his ability. “I can kill with my bare hands. Knowing that makes me more effective in a fight because having that ability usually lets me end things without deadly force.”

“You don’t kill unless you have to.”

Or when he knew the world would be safer without someone left alive. But that was a point he could make later—if they had a later.

Dare held her gaze. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?” It sure as hell didn’t satisfy his.

“About your work, yes.” She kept her distance. “But I’d like to know more about you. How you got your start, the things you enjoy, the day-to-day stuff.”

Too much curiosity would be dangerous. “You want the bare bones of my life?”

Measuring her words with care, she said, “I want whatever you’ll share with me.”

His mouth twitched. It was a little late for her to worry about seeming nosy, but he still appreciated her good manners. “When I was seventeen, I joined the service.”

“But that’d mean you were a minor. Is that allowed?”

Dare shrugged. “With parental consent, yeah.”

She looked appalled that anyone had agreed to his enlistment.

“It was a good decision, Molly, one of the best things I ever did. Everyone realized right off that I had a knack for defense and for following through.” He pulled off the gloves. “If that meant killing someone intent on harming me or others, then that’s what I did.”

She said nothing to that. Dare set the gloves aside and braced his hands on the bench. “But, Molly, understand that I detest bullies and needless violence. I would never harm an innocent or watch someone else cause harm. Whenever possible, I avoid all physical conflicts. I have no problem at all walking away from a fight—when walking away is an option.”

“You killed those men in Mexico.”

“Yeah.” She hadn’t said it as an accusation, but as confirmation. “But, Molly?”

She looked at him with big, dark eyes.

“That was before I saw what they’d done to you. You aren’t responsible for any of that.”

She bit her lips and nodded. “I’m sure you did what needed to be done.”

Dare felt strangled by her trust. His fingers curved around the bench, gripping it hard. “They had taken Alani.”

“I know.” She sounded far too gentle, and far too understanding. “You told me that she’s like a sister to you.”

Shit. He didn’t want to explain emotional entanglements. But he still heard himself say, “She and Trace are more like family than my real family is.”

She thought for a second, then asked, “Do you see your parents often?”

Dare shook his head and relaxed a little. He could talk about this, about his parents, without the sentiment. “Dad died in a small-plane crash years ago. Mom is remarried and living in Michigan. I visit with her a couple of times a year.”

“You’re not close?”

“Not really, not since Dad died.” He shrugged. “We get along fine, mostly because we don’t see each other real often.” He waited for her to dig into that, and he had no idea what he’d tell her.

How could he make her understand that he’d always been a loner? His mother hadn’t been the same since the plane crash, not that she’d ever been real clingy before that. But maybe it had nothing to do with his mother. He loved her, but he had no need to be in constant contact with her. She seemed to feel the same.

Molly bypassed his expected questions to ask, “Any siblings?”

This felt like an interrogation, but all things being equal, he supposed he owed her some info. “No. A stepbrother from Mom’s second marriage. He’s a doctor. Nice enough guy.” And Dare had nothing in common with him.

“Does your mother know what you do?”

Hell, no. Only a handful of people were trusted enough to know the full truth. “She knows I hire out as a defense and security specialist. The nitty-gritty details aren’t up for public consumption.”

“Even with your mother?”

Leveling a look on her, Dare emphasized, “With no one.”

“Oh.” Molly retreated emotionally. “Sorry.”

Damn it. Dare felt her withdrawal, and it pissed him off. It wasn’t her fault that he’d already told her more than most knew. Only Chris and Trace were privy to the private particulars of his work, but for some reason, talking with Molly was far too easy.

If he wasn’t careful, he’d find himself spilling his guts—and he knew that wouldn’t be smart, or prudent. “Forget about it.”

“I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Yeah, you did. But it’s okay. We might as well get this over with.”

She winced.

Because he was watching her so closely, Dare saw her uneasiness, and it bothered him. She’d been through enough without him badgering her. Gently, he asked, “Anything else you want to know, Molly?”