Men Of Honour. Lori Foster

haven’t been paid, you’re sort of stuck with me.”

      “Not stuck, no.” He’d made the decision that she would remain with him. He never allowed others to coerce him, not in any way. “But understand, Molly—for now, I’m going to keep you safe. After I figure out the threat and decide how best to resolve it, then we’ll come to terms on our agreement.”

      “Financially, you mean.”

      What else? He nodded affirmation, but said, “That, and more.”

      “Such as …?”

      He opened the first-aid kit. “If I’m going to be in charge of your safety, you have to follow my directions to the letter. No balking, no arguments.”

      She licked her lips again—and nodded.

      “Good. We’ll start with me checking out some of these cuts and scrapes that you have. The last thing you need is an infection.” He looked at her. “Give me your arm.”

      As if only then realizing that she might have cuts, Molly looked at each arm. “I can take care of it.”

      “I can take care of it better.”

      “Who says?”

      “I say.” Hadn’t he already proven his capability with her hair?

      Dare caught her arm and pulled her forward to reach the injury. Ignoring her protestation, he said, “This’ll sting a little.” He swiped the cut with the antiseptic and heard her hiss in a breath, but she didn’t move and she didn’t complain. The cut wasn’t deep and didn’t need stitches, but he dabbed it with an antibiotic ointment and covered it with a bandage.

      The procedure was repeated on a small spot on her other arm, and when he looked down at her legs, her toes curled.

      “Dare, really …” He bent to a scrape on her inner thigh, and she said in a rush, “Shouldn’t I at least know your last name?”

      Her high, shrill voice amused him. It wasn’t from fear that she nearly screeched at him. No, it was … something else. But definitely not fear.

      “Macintosh.”

      “Well, surely, Dare Macintosh, you will admit I can reach my own legs!”

      She could—but he wanted to do it. Why, he couldn’t honestly say, but a small lie would work. “I need to know it’s done right, so just hush and sit still.”

      Molly had sleek, shapely legs and small feet. Her skin, where it wasn’t hurt, was smooth and soft. He cupped the back of her knee and lifted her leg to treat what looked like rug burns. Since there’d been no carpeting in the trailer, he assumed the injuries were caused during her abduction. He wanted to know more about that, and would, soon.

      He found two more deep scratches on her legs, and a cut on the side of her foot. As he treated her foot, he decided she’d need more than loose sandals to keep it protected.

      He sat back. “Anywhere else?”

      She rolled in her lips, released them, and gave in, putting a hand to the back of her neck. “I’m not sure, but there might be something here. It stung a little when I was showering.” Lifting her hair, she turned to show him.

      Dare flinched in rage. Clearly, someone had choked her, given the finger marks on her slender throat. Above the faded bruising, a deep scratch showed.

      Under his breath, but not softly enough, Dare whispered, “Fuckers.”

      She swallowed. “The bruises are left over from when I was first taken. I didn’t go along easily.”

      And so someone had choked her?

      “They’re almost gone now,” she said, as if trying to reassure him.

      “Not gone enough.” He touched her shoulder, and felt her shiver as he turned her a little more so he could better see.

      While holding up her hair, she dropped her head forward, and the pose was so innocently provocative, and yet so trusting, that he felt himself stir.

      Damn it, it wasn’t lust. What she made him feel was something more powerful than that—and more disturbing. He shook it off to concentrate on her injuries.

      “How’d you get this scratch?” It looked deep, healed over a little, but still painful.

      Her narrow shoulders lifted. “One of them wore an ornate ring.”

      And the bastard had been manhandling her enough to cut her with it? Yeah, Dare decided, he’d be protecting her—but he decided against sharing solid decisions with her yet. He needed a lot more info, and it’d be best if she thought his compliance hinged on her giving full truths.

      In his experience, too many people had secrets that could alter the outcome of an event.

      Dare treated the scratch, but didn’t bandage it. “Done.”

      “So …” She turned on the bed again, facing him as he replaced the chair. “You’ve made plans to leave.”

      “In a few hours. Soon as we can get packed up, we’re out of here.”

      She nodded, but hesitated. “I, um … Not that it matters in the long run, I guess, but … I feel conspicuous boarding a plane like this.” She held out the hem of the big shirt he’d given her. “Do we have time for me to just buy some jeans and maybe … a bra?”

      His mouth firmed. Looking at her, he could see the need for the bra, especially with her nipples puckered, pressing against the thin cotton of the shirt.

      Yeah, he could make time for that. If she knew they’d be on a chartered plane, away from any crowds, she might not think that shopping was necessary, but it wouldn’t hurt for her to get some shoes and socks, too. “We can spare about twenty minutes or so.”

      “I promise I can find what I need in that time.” Hustling now, moving faster than he’d seen her move before this, she gathered up the few things he’d gotten her.

      Dare nodded toward his bag on the bed. “Stow it in there.”

      “What will you do about your weapons?”

      “Don’t worry about it.” Chris had already cleared it with the pilots of the chartered plane.

      In no time, they were checked out and leaving the motel. Dare scanned the parking lot but didn’t see anyone watching them. Making yet another trip to Walmart, he drove across the street and parked away from other shoppers.

      Though she could no doubt afford to shop in a pricey boutique, Molly didn’t turn up her nose at the racks. She looked tired, but it didn’t slow her down as she located a pair of jeans, three pairs of socks, low boots, a bra, more underwear and a zip-up hooded sweatshirt in under the twenty minutes allotted.

      She was a power-shopper—like him.

      Impressed, Dare paid for the purchases and started back out to the lot with her.

      That’s when he spotted the red Ford truck. Handing the bag to Molly, he steered her to the side of the front doors and said, “Stay here until I come back for you. Don’t move. Period. Do you understand me?”

      “What? Wait.” She grabbed for his arm in a flash of panic. “Where are you going?”

      Dare scanned the area, deciding on the best advantage. Through his teeth, he said, “Tell me you understand.”

      She released her death grip on him. “I understand.” Fear put a quaver in her voice. “I won’t move from this spot.”

      “Good girl.” Keeping his gaze on the truck driver, who hadn’t yet noticed them, Dare darted out alongside a driver looking for a parking place. Staying low, uncaring of what others might surmise, he used the parking-lot traffic to conceal him until he could get to the other side of the truck.

      Using an SUV for cover, he checked