When You Dare - Lori Foster [81]
“Ooookay,” Chris said, and they both heard the basement door close.
Chris was giving them privacy, but Dare didn’t want it. Not here, not like this. But now that he’d told Molly how he felt, the barriers seemed very insubstantial. If he didn’t get some space, he’d end up taking her on the cold concrete floor.
“I need to shower,” he told her, “and then I’ll be right up.” As dismissals went, that was pretty clear.
“Oh. Right.” Keeping her back to the wall, Molly sidled toward the stairs. “I’ll just be up there. With Chris.”
Dare couldn’t take his gaze off her. “Give me twenty minutes.”
She continued to retreat. “Twenty minutes.”
Obviously he’d thrown her for a loop. Seemed fair to Dare, given how she’d turned him inside out.
His jaw flexed. “Get going, Molly, before I change my mind.”
She turned and hustled up the stairs, fascinating Dare with that taut behind and the bouncing of her full breasts. He stood there transfixed, watching her until she reached the top of the stairs and disappeared from his sight.
Damn, but she was something. Pure. Honest.
A great contradiction to the life he’d built for himself, a life of precision, deception and detection.
Being around Molly felt good.
Today he’d make her confront her life back home, and, God willing, tonight she’d still want him.
KATHI BERRY-ALEXANDER finished giving directions to one of the well-mannered household staff before she started down the hallway of the mansion she shared with her husband, Bishop Alexander. All her life, she’d been groomed for the skillful organization and planning required for a residence this large—not that Bishop understood or appreciated her significant contribution to making their home comfortable. He was a very busy man, an important, influential man, and he couldn’t be expected to care about such things. She knew that, in many ways, he considered her dispensable.
But she loved him anyway.
She loved the prestige he provided, the social circle, the authority.
He might not be the most charming man around, but he was an excellent provider and a respectable husband that society admired and that some even revered.
Her parents had raised her with advantages, but they weren’t powerful like Bishop. Marriage to him ensured that she kept a prestigious edge over others.
She happily basked in the cold shadow of his success.
What Bishop couldn’t or wouldn’t give her, she was resourceful enough to get on her own.
As Kathi looked around at the beautiful artwork on the walls and the fresh flowers in multiple vases, she nodded in satisfaction. Meticulous detailing ensured that nothing would ever mar her perfect existence.
Mentally listing her duties for the coming evening, Kathi considered the yoga class in an hour, then lunch with friends before she’d visit the salon in preparation for a dinner party with her husband’s business contacts.
Everything revolved around those contacts. Over the years, Bishop’s business investments grew more diversified, and even extended into political backing. She didn’t understand all of his dealings, but she knew that he owned a chain of gun stores and several recreational properties. Business didn’t interest her; she received a generous household allowance and personal account, and should anything ever happen to Bishop, she was a major beneficiary of his will. The house, the properties, would remain hers.
She was satisfied.
As she strode along the marble floors, Kathi’s heels clicked rhythmically in a soothing cadence until she stepped into the master bedroom in search of her purse. That’s when she spotted Bishop out on the veranda.
Despite the cool day and brisk wind, he wore no jacket. With his cell phone to his ear and tension in his shoulders, he leaned on the ornate iron railing and stared out at the grounds.
He spoke in a tone harsh with anger, and Kathi couldn’t help but overhear him.
“Apparently she was missing, and I didn’t