Men Of Honour. Lori Foster

run the house,” he told her. “You tell me.”

      Bewildered, she shook her head. “Your daughter doesn’t live here. She’s not under my jurisdiction, so I have no idea—”

      “That was sarcasm, damn it.”

      “I see.” His temper was ripe today, scorching her.

      Not bothering to hide his disgust, he pushed past her. “But one would think you could keep up with your stepdaughters at the very least. If you had, then maybe I wouldn’t have been taken off guard.”

      And with that, Bishop stormed through the bedroom and, Kathi knew, out of the house.

      He hadn’t said if Molly was okay or not, leaving her to wonder.

      She took a moment to compose herself, but no more than a moment. Regardless of this unfortunate turn, she had duties for the day and she would never allow her own emotions to keep her from those responsibilities. Too many people depended on her. She would attend her yoga class as scheduled.

      But first … first she had a phone call to make. And unlike her husband, she never did so without the privacy needed.

      CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      AS MOLLY HURRIED UP the stairs, her thoughts churning over what Dare had said and his promise for the night, a fantastic change in her plot occurred to her. That’s how her writing went—she got inspiration from everywhere, and Dare certainly inspired her muse in remarkable ways. So far, there was more sex in this book than in any of her others.

      Her dad would abhor that, but she’d bet Kathi would appreciate the new scenes. Most of her readers seemed to enjoy a little steam now and then.

      Since meeting Dare, she could understand why.

      Closing the door to the stairs, Molly leaned back and grinned.

      “Is that a look of satisfaction?”

      She jumped at the intrusion. Somehow she’d forgotten all about Chris. “What? No. I mean …”

      He laughed at her.

      “You’re terrible,” she accused without any real insult. “Actually, I just worked out a plot problem, that’s all.”

      “Mmm. Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

      She opened her mouth, but could think of nothing witty to say. “Where’s my stuff?”

      “I put the bags in the room you’re using upstairs.” His smile never wavered. “So, where’s Dare?”

      “Taking a shower. He said he’d be up in twenty minutes.” That didn’t leave her much time. She wanted to get the words down before Dare finished. “I, um …” She edged away. “I need to go write.”

      “Have at it.” Chris saluted her and went back to unloading some groceries.

      Forty minutes and six pages later, Molly saved her file and returned to the kitchen. Chris was at the computer, but looked up to smile at her as she entered. “You done?”

      She nodded. “For now.”

      Dare stood at the stove, cracking eggs into a bowl. They shared a look. “Chris said you were writing.”

      “My muse takes some wild jumps, and good plot twists just occur to me. I like to get it on paper while the idea is fresh in my mind.”

      Chris sat back in his chair. “Am I old enough to hear the details?”

      “Sorry, no.” He was teasing again, but Molly answered with a writer’s seriousness. “I never, ever talk about my stories while I’m writing them. It dilutes my creative energy.”

      “We can’t have that.” Chris laced his fingers behind his neck and stretched. “So, how long will it be before I can buy a copy?”

      “A year, at least.” It amazed Molly how comfortable she felt with them both already. She took a seat at the bar. “After I turn it in, which won’t be for a while yet, it has to go through production. But when it’s done, I’ll give you an autographed copy if you want.”

      “Really?” Chris dropped his arms and leaned forward. “If you’re serious, that’d be great.”

      “I owe you anyway, for driving into town for me today.”

      Dare poured his egg mixture onto a hot griddle. “You going to sign one to me, too?”

      Why Dare’s question made her blush, Molly couldn’t say. She looked down at her hands. “If you want, I’d be happy to.” The thought of Dare reading her both pleased and worried her. His opinion mattered, a lot.

      “Molly?”

      When she looked up at him, he said, “I’m going to pick up your other books, too.”

      “You don’t need to do that.”

      He flashed her an intimate smile. “You’ve got me curious.”

      Aware of Chris watching them, Molly cleared her throat. “What I meant is that I have my own stash of author copies, so you don’t need to buy them. When I get back to my apartment, I can package some up and mail them to you.”

      Dare sent her a look. “I’ll have brunch ready in a few minutes.”

      All she’d had was the cold cereal earlier, and the crepes smelled delicious. “Thanks.”

      Then Dare said, “We’re heading up to your apartment today, but no need to mail the books back. We’re only going for a short stay.”

      A short stay. Molly stared at Dare in disbelief. She had assumed they’d go up and back. She needed to see her sister and check her messages, but she didn’t want to stay there, where she’d been grabbed off the street, knowing that whoever had arranged for her to be taken was still out there somewhere, maybe just waiting for another chance at her.

      “I can wait,” Chris said. He asked Dare, “Do you want me to forward your calls and emails to you?”

      “Just the important ones. Everything else will wait. Trace will know to call the cell.”

      At a loss, Molly rose out of her chair. She felt like running away.

      Dare glanced at her, then said softly, “I met your father yesterday.”

      Her breath strangled in her chest. “You did what?”

      “I tracked him down at a club in Kentucky. He was there to play golf with some business associates.”

      She couldn’t believe this. What had her father said to Dare? Oh, God, she could only imagine, and shame burned her.

      Folding his arms over his chest, Dare leaned against the counter and stared at her. “When we get to your place tonight, you’ll call him and set up a dinner with the rest of the family for as soon as possible. I need to meet all of them.”

      Molly shook her head, blindsided and dumbfounded by his audacity.

      Concerned, Chris turned his chair to face her. “Molly?”

      She ignored him, giving all her attention to Dare. “I don’t believe you.” Her voice was raspy and faint, and that irritated her even more. She spoke up, adding strength to her words. “Don’t you think you should consult with me about these major decisions?”

      His brow went up.

      Hurt clenched her heart, and she moved toward him with anger. “Especially when I’m the one paying for this!”

      “It was off the clock,” Dare told her, and he watched her so closely that she felt exposed.

      “No, absolutely not.” She pointed at him. “I’m paying you for everything. We agreed.”

      He said nothing.

      His