When You Dare - Lori Foster [17]
“That depends.” She fidgeted a moment, then tilted her head at him. “Are you expensive, Dare?”
Now what was she up to? He crossed his arms and sat back. “Very.”
“So, that means you’re really good?”
His eyes narrowed, and he said again, “Very.”
Mulling that over, she nodded acceptance. “I’m not certain what type of work you do, but I know you carry a knife and a pretty big gun, and that you’re darned good at getting in and out of dire situations.”
All true enough.
“I trust what I know of you, and you did rescue me with no incentive other than that it was the right thing to do, so… I was hoping maybe I could hire you?” Very unsure of herself, she ended with a clear question, hoping for his cooperation.
Dare studied her, a little astounded, but also curious. But again, it proved nearly impossible to know what was in that quick mind of hers. So far just about everything she’d said or done had been unexpected.
“To do what, exactly?” If she thought he was a murderer for hire, he’d just have to set her straight. Yes, he’d killed, but only when necessary to protect an innocent. Never in cold blood. Never for money.
He was as law-abiding as the next guy—when he could abide the law.
Leaning forward in her seat, Molly put her elbows on the table and stared him in the eyes. “Someone wanted me hurt, I’m sure of that. Maybe he even wanted me killed. I need to know who he is, or I’ll never be able to relax. Until that person is revealed, I’ll need protection.” Her gaze dipped over his body, her lips rolled in, and she hurried her attention back to his face.
She let out a ragged breath. “God’s truth, Dare, I think you’re a man who could protect anything or anyone if you set your mind to it.”
Damn right—but he wasn’t yet ready to commit himself. There was a lot he didn’t know about Molly Alexander. He started with the most obvious. “You said he. You think a man set you up?”
Her mouth twisted. “Actually, that was just a figure of speech. I didn’t mean to leap to any conclusions. It could be anyone.”
No kidding. “Do you have enemies, Molly?”
She laughed with a near-hysterical edge, but she quickly regrouped and picked up some toast. “All things considered, apparently I do.”
He couldn’t argue that point. The more he’d thought about it, the more her theory made sense. Someone must have wanted her taken, because she wasn’t the young helpless innocent usually grabbed.
But he wanted to hear her reasoning. “What makes you so sure you weren’t just a random grab gone awry?”
“Besides the obvious unsuitability for the standard—being gorgeous, stacked, younger women?” A new edge showed in her demeanor, a renewed fear and anger. “I wasn’t treated the same. Not even close. They leered at the others, saw them as commodities, but they mostly just wanted to taunt me, as if they were allowed liberties with me that were forbidden against the others.”
“The bruises on your face,” Dare remarked aloud, and he had to tamp down his anger. “A bruised woman doesn’t sell for as much.”
She shrugged. “They never once struck the other women in the face. In fact, they might have manhandled them a little, but they didn’t hit them at all.”
“You egged them on.” Dare couldn’t get over that.
“Did Alani tell you that? Well, it’s true, I guess—and it sort of makes me sound nuts, huh?”
“I don’t know. Depends on why you did it, I guess.”
Her hands curled into fists. “They wanted to break me, and I refused. I was afraid that once I did, once I fell apart, they’d go ahead and kill me. Like maybe that’s what they were waiting for.”
She’d crumbled the toast, realized it, and brushed her hands before folding them in her lap. “Believe me, I was terrified, but rather than show them that, I showed them the scorn I felt.”
Again, she amazed him. She’d sized up the situation and rationalized a way to buy herself some time. “Go on.”
“I sometimes overheard them talking. Mostly in Spanish,