I'm telling you now. Without knowing for sure if you sent them, or why, I was left to my own discretion. If you want me to bother you with every little detail that comes up, just say so." He shrugged. "But I was under the impression that you wanted me to handle shit."
Murray's face reddened with bluster. "I do, damn it."
"They were shit," Trace explained. "They've been handled.
Tags: trace
When Trace simply held her hands out to her sides and looked at her, Priss asked, "Are we going to have sex now?"
His mouth twitched, and his gaze warmed, but he sounded dead serious when he said, "Yeah, I think we are.
Planning to be a seducer was difficult enough. Talking about it with the seducee would be impossible.
Lori FosterTags: humor
No one thinks you're an idiot. That's just dumb.
Lori FosterBut when we go in, watch where you step.”
“Why?” Taking her arm, he started for the entrance, again surveying the area all around them. “You have land mines hidden around?”
Priss ignored him. “It’s this way.” She took the lead, steering him toward the side entrance. Nearby police sirens screamed, competing with music from the bar next door. “I’m on the second floor.”
They passed a hooker fondling a man against the brisk facing of the building. Priss stepped over and around a broken bottle. Tires squealed and someone shouted profanities.
Distaste left a sour expression on Trace’s face. “This dive needs to be condemned.”
“Maybe, but it’s shady enough that no one asked me any questions when I checked in.”
“It’s also shady enough that you could get mugged, raped or murdered in the damned lot and no one would notice.”
Priss shook her head. “I’m not worried about that.” They went up the metal stairs, precariously attached to the structure.
After muttering a rude sound, Trace said, “There’s a lot you should be worried about, but aren’t.
Be smart and take your pert little ass out the door and away from danger.”
Pert little ass? Frowning, she looked behind herself. From what she could see, her ass—pert or otherwise—looked nonexistent thanks to the shape of her skirt.
I’m known enough that he’s seen me nearly naked.”
Dare’s gaze lifted above her, no doubt to meet up with Trace’s.
She heard Trace sigh, and felt his shrug. “Murray’s orders.”
Dare nodded in understanding.
Understanding! How in the world could he understand that? The big jerk.
“I’m known enough for him to take a picture of me almost naked, too.” Priss scowled fiercely. “With his stupid cell phone. And he still has it!”
Trace stiffened behind her. “Damn it, Priss . . .”
Feeling braver by the second, she again left Trace’s secure hold to confront Dare. “And I’m known enough that your good buddy has felt me up, twice.”
That left eyebrow lifted to join the right. Dare shrugged. “If that’s true—”
“It is!”
“Then I’m sure Trace had his reasons.” He looked to Trace for confirmation.
Clearly growing irritated with her, not that she cared, Trace growled, “For the most part.”
And damned if Dare’s stony face didn’t show her a quirk of a smile—there and gone. Her hands balled into fists and her neck stiffened. “Why, you—
It take it Priss has you tied up in knots?”
There wasn’t much point in denying it. And maybe admitting things to Dare would help him get them under control. “I want her.”
“No shit. Tell me something I don’t know.”
Trace had trusted Dare forever, as a good friend, a partner in business and as an honorable man. He knew Dare had uncanny instincts and deadly skills.
But he thought he had covered his reaction to Priss.
“Damn.” Trace ran a hand through his hair. “Do you think Molly and Chris picked up on it, too?”
After a short sound that might have been a stifled laugh, Dare said, “They’re neither blind, deaf, or stupid. So . . . yeah. I’m betting they noticed.”
Trace frowned.
With a shake of his head, Dare dismissed his concern. “It’s not a big deal, Trace. Don’t sweat it.”
The mild, even amused reaction to his predicament surprised Trace. “She’s off-limits.”
“You think so?” Dare looked down at the dappling of sunshine through tree limbs, then back at Trace. “Why’s that?”
“What do you mean, why’s that? Hell, Dare, I barely know the woman.”
“You knew her well enough to take her picture.”
If Dare smiled, he was going to flatten him. Period.
Sensing an ally, Priss took two steps toward her, but Trace pulled her up short by grabbing her arm.
“No, you don’t,” he told her, and no matter how Priss yanked and pulled, she couldn’t free herself.
“Settle down, will you?” Trace said near her ear. “You’re not helping things.”
The woman’s expression pinched even more.
Dare started toward her in a ground-eating stride. “Back inside, Molly,” he said, sounding more cajoling than commanding. “I’ll explain in private.”
Like hell! Priss didn’t want to lose whatever opportunities this might be, so she shouted, “Molly, help me. Trace drugged me to bring me here, and Dare manhandled me when I tried to escape.” And before Trace could muzzle her, if indeed that was his intent, she added, “Some other guy stole my cat!”
The woman’s mouth dropped open, then firmed shut again. With one raised hand, she halted Dare’s progress. Dare dropped his head and groaned.
The minute Molly and Priss disappeared inside, Trace cursed. He actually wanted to hit something, but a tree would break his knuckles, he didn’t want to put another dent in the truck, and Dare would hit back.
Chris Chapey, Dare’s longtime best friend and personal assistant, approached with the enormous cat draped over one shoulder so that he could keep an eye on the trailing dogs. The bottom half of Liger filled his arms, and the long tail hung down to the hem of Chris’s shorts.
Without even thinking about it, Trace started petting the cat. After a few hours in the truck together, he and Liger had an understanding of sorts.
Dare watched him, but said only, “That cat is a beast.”
“He’s an armful, that’s for sure.” Chris hefted him a little higher, and got a sweet meow in return.
Both dogs barked in excitement, but quited when Liger gave them a level stare.
Chris laughed at that. “You want me to head in to keep an eye on things”
“That’s why I pay you the big bucks, right?” Dare stared toward the house. “You can tell Trace’s lady—”
“She’s not mine.”
Both Chris and Dare gave him a certain male-inspired look, a look that said they understood his bullshit and would let it slide—for now.
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