When You Dare
Page 43

 Lori Foster

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Last night… God almighty, he’d wanted her. He still wanted her. Being away from her hadn’t changed that.
But last night she’d needed something altogether different from him. She hadn’t even noticed his boner, or the heat pouring off him. She’d held on to him like a lifeline, and…he’d liked it. He liked her.
It didn’t matter how hard the circumstances might be on him; until Molly got through this, until she regained some control over her life, he would continue to do what he could for her. If that meant holding her every damn night, then so be it.
He would damn well keep his hands to himself.
Until she was ready.
Dare was thinking of her eventual readiness when Bishop finally emerged from the club. Though he’d been out in the sun for hours, his well-groomed, silver-tipped hair looked like it had just been styled. Aviator sunglasses hid his eyes, but not his smile as he chatted up another, taller man. They laughed together, and Bishop clapped the other fellow on the shoulder as a farewell. The friend veered off in a different direction, leaving Bishop alone, waiting on the valet.
Fuck it.
Before the valet noticed him, Dare got out of his car and looked over the roof. “Bishop Alexander?”
Molly’s father looked up.
Predatory anticipation filled Dare. “Got a minute?”
Taking off his glasses, Bishop stared toward Dare. “Do I know you?”
Dare didn’t move from his relaxed position outside the driver’s side of his SUV. “We haven’t formally met, but your daughter has told me about you.”
Bishop went still, but only for a second. A calculated expression reshaped his features, and he slunk closer with caution. “Which daughter would that be?”
Of course the bastard felt safe. They were in front of an exclusive club where only members were allowed. Bishop wouldn’t realize that Dare went where he wanted, when he wanted. Getting past the gate had been child’s play for a man of his means.
For Bishop, his money and social influence were his strength. But Dare didn’t give a shit about any of that.
“The daughter who’s been missing.”
In an instant, Bishop’s jaw firmed, and he surged forward with the confidence of a man used to power and prestige. “What do you know of that?”
So he realized Molly had been missing. Interesting. “I found Molly, and I thought you might be interested in the…details.”
That did it. After waving off the approaching valet, Bishop moved to confront Dare. Voice lowered and infused with suspicion, he said, “I don’t know what this is about, but if you think to blackmail me, I can tell you that it won’t work. You won’t get a single cent from me.”
It took all of Dare’s resolve not to plant his fist in Bishop’s face. Feigning a boredom he didn’t feel, Dare said, “Does that mean you’re not curious about where she was, or how she got there?”
On uncertain ground, Bishop flexed his fingers while trying to gauge his opponent. Finally, after smoothing his already smooth hair, he tweaked the collar of his golf shirt and played blasé. “I assumed she was off on another research trip.”
“Yeah?” Arms relaxed, stance negligent, Dare smiled. “And you thought I’d blackmail you over that?”
“What else?” All decorum fled as he said, “Thanks to her absurd vocation, Molly gets herself into preposterous situations.”
“Like what? Being kidnapped?”
“Kidnapped?” For only a moment, Bishop rocked back in shock before realizing how loudly he’d spoken. Appalled at himself, he again looked around to ensure no one had overheard him.
“That’s right. Taken against her will.” Enunciating slowly, Dare said, “Abducted.”
“But…” He blustered in disbelief. “That’s absurd.”
Dare shook his head. “It’s a fact.”
Not missing a beat, Bishop asked, “But she’s safe now?”
Did the man care? Or was he pondering his own position in things? “She’s safe.”
After letting out a breath, trying to shush Dare with his own example, Bishop said, “Look, this has nothing to do with me.”
“You’re her father.”
“An irrefutable fact.” Bishop sounded pained by the relationship. “But you’d have to understand my daughter. She is not conventional. She is not circumspect. It’s a fault I have lamented for years.”
Dare said nothing—which prompted Bishop to say a lot.
“Just what the hell do you want from me? You certainly can’t expect me to take charge of Molly’s every misfortune.”
Being kidnapped was a misfortune? “You’re a real ass**le, aren’t you, Bishop?” Dare didn’t bother being circumspect, which prompted Bishop to another quick survey of their surroundings. “Do you have any idea where your daughter was?”
“Since I didn’t know of any of this, how could I?”
“Do you even care?”
Bishop flattened his mouth—and refused to reply.
Deep down, rage simmered in Dare, but he didn’t show it. “You know, I have to ask myself—why would a father be so indifferent to his daughter’s well-being—unless he was the one who had arranged her misfortune.”
Jaw going slack and face coloring, Bishop blinked in an effort to reconcile himself with the accusation. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” And then with new heat: “What the hell are you talking about? Do you know who I am? Do you know my standing in society?”