When You Dare - Lori Foster [65]
Tonight, she’d make her feelings known to him.
If he came to her.
Not for a second did she doubt that Dare would know right where to find her, if he wanted to. But he could be tired; he could want to shower and sleep…. No.
Their time together had been brief, but she already knew him, and she knew he would seek her out first thing. And so she waited for him.
Like glittering diamonds, starlight reflected off every ripple in the surface of the lake. The lulling sound of gentle waves rolling up to the shoreline had eased her tension earlier, but now they amped up her awareness, heightening her senses. Molly concentrated on the feel of the cold air blowing off the lake and into her heated face.
And she listened for Dare.
Her heart began to pound, and her skin tingled. Somewhere out toward the middle of the lake, a fish jumped. To her left, in a small cove between this dock and the one situated in front of Chris’s cabin, a frog croaked.
When she felt Dare’s approach, Molly closed her eyes. The dock shimmered with his every footstep.
“Molly.”
At the sound of his deep, soft voice, her starving lungs reminded her to draw breath. In an agony of anticipation, she tipped her head around and, sounding more breathless than she intended, said, “Hi.”
He came to crouch down beside her. “I didn’t want to startle you.”
“I heard you pull up.”
He reached out to touch her hair. “Chris went on to bed.”
She twisted, saw that the lights had gone out in the cabin, and nodded. “I think he was waiting for you.” She hugged her arms around her knees. “I hate that he feels responsible for me.”
Dare hesitated, saying nothing, and then he eased down to sit beside her. He, too, stared out at the lake. After a time, he spoke softly, saying, “You’re in a precarious situation. Any man would worry for you. But the fact is, Chris is paid to do as I tell him, and I told him to keep an eye on you.”
It amused her how both Chris and Dare constantly tried to make light of their protective instincts. “Maybe, but it was more than that.” She rested her chin on a knee. “He’s one of the good guys, and I know that.” She peeked over at Dare. “I know the difference.”
Brushing the backs of his fingers along her cheek, Dare said, “You’re chilled.”
Molly shook her head. “It’s beautiful here.”
His hand eased under her hair to cup around the nape of her neck. “I think so, too.” He tugged her a little closer to him, sharing his body heat. “We both worry for you, Molly. No woman should have to go through what you did, and it’s understandable to have some difficulty with it. All Chris wants, all we want, is to make sure you’re okay.”
Closing her eyes, Molly bit her lip and tried to decide how to speak her mind. His thumb brushed over her skin, inciting her and doing so much to obliterate clear thought.
“I like your hands, Dare.”
He went still, cautious. “My hands?”
“Before…before what happened, I never paid that much attention to the differences in a man’s hands.” She reached out and found his other hand, cradling it in both of hers. “They’re so much bigger, so much stronger than mine.”
“True.”
Her throat felt tight. “And they can do a lot of damage without a lot of effort.” Palm to palm, she compared their hands—but there was no real comparison. He was large and strong and capable, more than able to defend himself from harm. But she had been utterly helpless.
Dare laced his fingers with hers. “They can also protect.”
“I know.” She looked up at him. That silvery, magic moonlight limned his features, emphasizing the sharp lines of his face and making his dark blue eyes fathomless, sexy and so appealing. “That’s the difference I see now, with you. Not the possibility of inflicted pain, but the compassion. The care. I look at your hands, and I think of how you touch me, and how it makes me feel.”