Men Of Honour. Lori Foster

dropped a forearm over his eyes.

      Hell, Molly still thought she’d be paying him for his protection. Did she also think that once he secured her safety, they’d be done? He snorted at that repugnant thought.

      Molly stirred, turned to her side to cuddle against him and settled back into a deep sleep.

      Looking down at her in amazement, Dare frowned … but when her breathing evened into a light snore, the frown turned into a grin. Apparently she didn’t suffer the same confusion plaguing him. Given all she’d been through, he was glad.

      He put his head back against the mattress and wondered what spell Molly Alexander had put on him. Because he sure as hell didn’t feel like himself anymore.

      CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

      UNABLE TO SLEEP, Dare grew antsy. Taking care not to disturb Molly, he slipped out of the bed. Before he went into the bathroom he lifted the tangled covers over her. He’d left her crossways in the bed, her feet hanging over the side, but that didn’t seem to interfere with her tiredness.

      Seeing her like that, so peaceful, made his heart clutch anew. He noticed that her now-swollen lips were tipped up in a slight smile. God knew the woman didn’t have much to smile about lately. Her innocence and optimism charmed him, burned him, brought out all his protective instincts and other less comfortable emotions that he barely recognized.

      Turning away from the bed, Dare picked up his jeans and went into her bathroom. The space was small, but it didn’t feel cramped. He disposed of the condom, washed up and pulled on his jeans. Curiosity got to him, and he opened her medicine cabinet. A few routine over-the-counter drugs sat with a prescription for birth-control pills. She’d missed two weeks’ worth, of course, so condoms remained necessary. But the idea of being inside her without barriers …

      He closed the cabinet and took a moment to clear his head. Inside a vanity drawer he found a few makeup items, a variety of hair brushes and combs, typical feminine hair adornments. The idea of Molly with a clip in her hair teased his senses and left him grinning for no reason at all.

      Turning to the tub, he lifted the pastel-colored soap and breathed in the scent of hyacinth. He could imagine Molly soaking in that old-fashioned tub, covered in fragrant bubbles. But nothing smelled as good as her bare skin, her soft hair—and her excitement.

      Damn it, he’d just taken her. She’d opened herself to him completely.

      But it wasn’t enough.

      All he could think now was that he wanted more. A lot more. More hot sex, the full-body contact of her cuddling afterward, more talking and laughing and learning together …

      Now what was he supposed to do?

      MOLLY AWOKE TO AN empty bed. She reached out for Dare but felt nothing. Sitting up, she realized that the room was now dark with only a sliver of light coming from beneath the bedroom door.

      She started to slide out from under the covers—and she heard it again. The noise that had awakened her: a key in the front door. Again.

      Suddenly the light in the other room disappeared, leaving her in utter darkness.

      What was Dare doing?

      Heart in her throat, Molly slipped out of the bed and pulled a blanket around her. Padding barefoot, she went to the bedroom door, slowly turned the knob and opened it oh-so-quietly.

      Her gaze scanned the dim living room. Enough moonlight filtered in the windows for her to see that Dare had been working. He was such a neat freak that the mess of her apartment must have made it impossible for him to sleep.

      Or maybe, his lust appeased, he just hadn’t been interested in staying that close to her.

      That thought hurt, so she pushed it aside and instead concentrated on seeing the room. She noted that the overturned table had been righted and her mail neatly stacked.

      She didn’t see Dare.

      Before she could worry too much about that, the front doorknob turned. As the door opened, it screeched in that familiar way.

      Hushed voices came from the outer hallway, right outside the door, whispering, maybe even teasing.

      Around niggling fear, Molly frowned in vague recognition. One voice almost sounded like—

      The door swung open and there was a sudden rush. Her sister squealed, and a loud thump sounded, followed by a curse.

      Hurrying out of the bedroom, Molly shouted, “Natalie!” She flipped on a light—and froze.

      Sure enough, she’d recognized her sister’s voice, even in a whisper. As if tossed there, Natalie sprawled in an easy chair, unhurt but stunned.

      In the middle of the floor, Dare pinned down a man almost as big as him. He kept his gun barrel pressed hard against the stranger’s jaw.

      With the lights on, Natalie saw the gun and screamed. “Oh, my God! What are you doing? Who are you?”

      Dare didn’t take his gaze off his captive. With a nod of his head toward Molly, he said, “I’m with her.”

      As her sister and the man glanced at her, Molly gave a loose finger wave.

      Dare nudged the man. “Who are you?”

      His mouth flattened. Nodding his head toward Natalie, he said, “I’m with her.”

      Dare frowned.

      Natalie scrambled from the chair in what Molly recognized as “attack mode.”

      “Wait.” Molly had no idea what was going on, or who the man on the floor might be, but she wouldn’t allow her sister to jump Dare.

      She didn’t want her sister to get hurt.

      “Everyone, just chill a second, please.”

      “Easier said than done,” the man beneath Dare quipped.

      The stranger kept his palms, at either side of his head, open and nonthreatening. But something about the way he stared back at Dare made Molly uneasy.

      Dare didn’t move—which meant he didn’t hurt the guy, but neither did he let him up.

      Molly pulled the blanket tighter. “Dare, this is my sister, Natalie.”

      “Don’t hurt him,” Natalie warned. And then to Molly, “What’s going on here?”

      “Dare is, um, protecting me. Nothing to worry about. He’s one of the good guys.”

      Disbelief flashed over Natalie’s white face before she gathered her gumption. “Well, then, tell him to get off of Jett.” She looked ready to launch herself at Dare if he made the wrong move, so Molly moved closer to her.

      If she had to, she’d tackle her sister. But hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, not with her naked beneath the blanket.

      “Dare,” Molly ventured. He looked to be in a killing mood. “Really, she is my sister, I promise.”

      “Sister, got it.” Indecision plain, Dare eased back just a little but kept his gun on the man.

      “Jett Sutter.” The stranger lay there, not really discomfited by the attack. “I know. Sounds like jet-setter. My folks are regular comedians.” He tilted his head to see Molly. Eyes so dark they looked black took her measure. His long, sinful lashes might have seemed effeminate on another man, but not on him. “I’m glad to see you’re okay, Molly.”

      Molly blinked. “You know me?”

      “Only from what Natalie has told me, which was all flattering but didn’t include associates with guns.”

      His good humor left Molly gaping. He was a handsome man, and even flat on his back with a gun in his face he managed to appear competent.

      “How do you know my sister?”