She’d held on—and then Dare had saved her.

The dock squeaked and rocked as she walked out onto it. The light didn’t reach this far, and she felt safely concealed in shadows provided by the high walls of the boathouse to her right. She moved close to it, letting it block some of the wind.

The moon painted a glow over the rippling surface of the lake, so beautiful that it engrossed her and further eased her angst. Molly sank down on the hard wooden planks with her knees drawn up close to her chest and wrapped the quilt tight around her.

How long she sat there, she wasn’t sure. Her thoughts drifted over the present and the future. She thought of Dare, of what he’d done for her, but more importantly, of who he was. Not many men could ever be like him. No other man would affect her this way.

Without even meaning to, she drew comparisons to Adrian, and felt like a fool. Now that she knew Dare, Adrian seemed less than insubstantial in every way. He didn’t have the strength of character or conviction that was such a part of Dare. He didn’t possess even a fraction of Dare’s honor and courage.

And in no way did he possess the same sex appeal. Around Dare, she could not ignore her own sexuality—as she’d often done with Adrian.

She couldn’t discount the incredible circumstances, because they had happened; they served as an impetus for everything that followed. But what she felt didn’t depend on what she’d suffered, or how Dare had saved her.

If she’d met him back in Ohio, maybe while on a book tour, she still would have recognized him as an amazing man. She had to believe that.

When she heard the sound of a car approaching high up on the road, she turned to see the headlights veer into the drive.

She knew it was Dare, and relief left her boneless. She considered going up to greet him but…she wasn’t ready yet.

Sitting there on the dock beneath the wide-open skies, snuggled into the quilt, feeling safe and serene kept her captivated. It enabled her to think objectively.

More comparisons presented themselves as she thought of her abductors and how Dare helped her to put the ugliness into perspective.

The men had hurt her, but Dare eased the pain.

They had taunted her; Dare reassured her.

They belittled her, and Dare showed her respect.

He served as the antithesis to all the harsh, ugly memories. Through him, she could counter the remaining abhorrence and lingering fears.

He soothed her fear, and her soul—even while inflaming her senses. She wanted him, not just his comfort, but so much more. Sleeping beside him made her feel safe, but it wasn’t enough, not when his nearness heated her blood and sharpened her desire almost painfully.

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.