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

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 she could be.

But he liked the new image in his head a lot.

In his quick surveillance of the place, he hadn’t failed to notice the claw-footed tub in her bathroom, or the black-and-white tile, brightened with red towels and dishes of potpourri.

There was a decidedly sensual side to Ms. Molly Alexander. “You surprise me.”

“What?” She followed his gaze to a floral demi-bra. With a gasp, she snatched it up and hid it behind her back. “You thought I did all my shopping at discount department stores?”

He sort of had. “You’re adaptable.”

Her chin came up. “Yeah, so?”

It amused him that she sounded so defensive. “It’s an admirable quality, Molly, that’s all. Sort of sexy, even.”

“Yeah, right.” Huffing, she threw the bra toward the bed and went to her knees in front of the desk. “Not like anyone sees me in any of that stuff anyway.”

He would. Soon.

He watched as she moved a lot of stuff out of her way to search beneath the desk.

“What are you looking for?”

“My flash drive. It was in the computer, because I was working on the book when I …” She went still, shook her head. “I was writing before I took a break and went outside. It should be here. I was going to mesh the papers I’d written at your place into the pages I already have.”

Would someone have reason to steal her work? Dare took a bundle of clothes from her and put them on the chair. “Did you keep a backup?”

“The flash drive is my backup.” She pushed aside a box, and a broken dry-erase board.

Dare cursed low—and Molly said, “Found it!”

Amazed, he watched as she lifted the flash drive from a narrow space on the floor between her chair and the desk. She closed her fist around it and let out a long breath.

Sorting out his thoughts, Dare turned to scrutinize the rest of her bedroom. “Involving the police will hinder what I can find out.”

Now that she’d found her work, she seemed calmer. “Why?”

“Because I’d be their first suspect.”

MOLLY STARED AT HIM, aghast. “What are you talking about? Why would anyone suspect you? ”

“I’m the least-known person in this equation. And it’ll only make the police suspicious if they start digging into my history, because they won’t find much.”

“They won’t?”

“I’ve made a point to always cover my tracks.” The last thing he needed was a public profile. “It goes with the security of the job. But cops don’t like that. They see any concealment as a guilty verdict.”

Molly accepted that without question, but the authorities wouldn’t. And he didn’t want them sidetracked investigating him, instead of getting to the real instigators.

Dare put his hands on his hips and looked at her full-size bed. The bedding was displaced, her clothes dumped, but otherwise the room seemed okay. “Another problem is that the police have an uncanny knack for forewarning every real suspect. It’s the way they investigate.”

Molly pushed up from the floor. “What do you mean?” She stowed the memory device in her pocket and began picking up clothes.