Dash of Peril

by Lori Foster

  He’d seen his brother fight, knew he could handle himself physically.

  But Margo? If she didn’t have her weapon, what would she do against a threat? He stewed over that concern the entire time they prepped to leave.

  Putting the call on speakerphone so Dash could join in, she contacted Logan on the drive to her house.

  “How are Yvette and Tipton?” Logan wanted to know.

  “Nervous. Worried.” Continually watching for a tail, she said, “You’re on speakerphone. Yvette had some news to share, but Cannon stopped in, too.” She explained about the possibility of the men being brothers, and the possible connection Cannon had exposed.

  “I’ll look into it,” Logan said. “Give me the address.”

  She read the slip of paper, then went one further. “This could be nothing more than run-of-the-mill porn. But just in case, don’t go in heavy-handed. If you start asking too many questions, you could spook him. Evidence will scatter and we’ll never get answers.”

  “Yeah,” Logan replied, his tone dry. “Because that’s what I do. I just bulldoze in, no finesse, no common sense. I haven’t a clue how to work a witness or how to gather evidence, or—”

  “Enough.” Margo sat back, rubbing at her elbow.

  Dash doubted she realized what she was doing. “Cut her some slack, Logan. The doctor didn’t release her.”

  “Damn.”

  Margo gave him a dirty look.

  “He’d have found out soon anyway, honey.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m still returning Monday,” she told him. “So don’t get any ideas.”

  “You’re worried,” Logan said. “I get it. Try a little trust, okay?” As if he expected her to do just that, he changed the subject. “I’ve got news, as well. Reese just left the car shop and the owner was real helpful. Says he remembers the guy who ordered the rims because he’s customized his truck in other ways, too.”

  “Paper trail?”

  “Doesn’t look like. The owner considers him a great customer—who always paid in cash. But he agreed to give a call if the man shows up again anytime soon.”

  “Damn.”

  They reached her house, so Margo finished the call. Dash stopped her from getting out.

  “Your arm is bothering you?”

  “No, it’s just...tight.”

  “You don’t need to do that.” He leaned in, brushing a warm kiss over her mouth. “Not with me, okay?”

  She didn’t pretend not to understand. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “So then take some aspirin for me, please.” His plans for the night would include plenty of coddling mixed in with lovemaking, but he’d be damned before he hurt her.

  Surrendering with a sigh, she said, “Fine. For you.” Flexing her arm, she admitted, “It is sort of achy.”

  Dash had to kiss her again. With his hand on the back of her head, his fingers threaded through her dark curls, he held her close and moved his mouth over hers until her soft lips parted. Slowly, he licked her bottom lip, dipped inside to taste the warmth of her mouth, and when he felt his heartbeat thumping too hard, he put his forehead to hers.

  He couldn’t wait to have her alone. “Thank you.”

  “Just don’t push your luck.” Another quick kiss softened that order before she turned and got out of the car.

  Smiling, Dash followed her to the door. They found Rowdy sitting forward on the couch, Oliver curled up beside him, sleeping peacefully. Rowdy was on the phone, brows down, expression stern. He greeted them with a nod but kept on talking.

  Rather than listen in, Margo headed to the kitchen. Toasting Dash with a glass of water, she downed two aspirin, then starting gathering up Oliver’s stuff. She packed up a spare food-and-water dish, his favorite bed and blanket, several cans of food and a few toys.

  Dash carried it out while Margo got the cat’s carrier from her small garage. She left it by the front door.

  As she retreated down the hall, he went along with her.

  “You won’t need much.” He stood just inside the bedroom rather than step on the kerosene-drenched carpet. Luckily the cops had already taken a lot of photos, gathered evidence and given clearance for her to get what she needed from the room.

  Still, she didn’t disturb much as she tiptoed around the wet spots. “Now that my stupid splint is gone, I can barely wait for a long hot shower,” she told him. Then thought to add, “Alone.”

  Dash noticed how she favored her arm, holding it close to her side. Icing it would be a good idea, too, but knowing how she felt about it, he didn’t mention it again. Hopefully the aspirin would give her some relief. “Spoilsport.”

  “The next shower,” she promised. And then with a hot look, “Or another bath.”

  Hell, yeah.

  “But tonight I want to take a real shower, wash and condition my hair, use my lotion...all the things that have been difficult to do.”

  Did she want to pretty up for him? Dash could have told her it wasn’t necessary. No matter what, Margo made him hotter than any woman he’d ever known. She could scowl at him and he wanted her. When she talked about showering, he had to fight off a boner.

  “Can I help?”

  “I’m about done.” In the open overnight bag on her bed, she stuffed a few pairs of panties, a few T-shirts, a pair of jeans, socks. With another suggestive glance, she said, “I’m hoping a lot of clothes won’t be necessary.”

  “If you want to stay naked, I won’t object.”

  Without missing a beat, she replied, “I would hope not. When I’m naked, you have to be naked, too. And I expect you to be very agreeable to my turn.”

  God, was she trying to kill him?

  One-handed, she carried the bag into her bathroom and loaded up with a few toiletries, a brush and a makeup bag.

  Rowdy leaned in through the doorway. “Am I interrupting?”

  “Nope.” Dash nodded into the room. “She’s just packing for the weekend.

  Both men watched as she stepped back out, set the bag on the bed and turned to the safe. “Important phone call?” She removed not one gun, but two, with two boxes of ammo, and put them in the bag.

  Knowing it’d be heavy now, Dash stepped in to carry it for her. It wasn’t easy, but he avoided the wettest spots on the carpet.

  “My snitch.”

  Margo took up her cell phone, a pager and her purse. “News?”

  Dash and Rowdy followed her down the hall.

  “My snitch knows the guy who broke in on you. Like you said, he’s small-time.” Rowdy ran a hand over the back of his neck and sent Dash a look.

  Dreading the inevitable, Dash set her bag by the carrier and faced Rowdy.

  Margo had already turned toward him. “I’m not that fragile, Rowdy. Out with it.”

  Dash knew she was far more fragile than she wanted to admit.

  Rowdy realized it, too. He didn’t look very happy as he laid it out there. “The moron who broke in here has done his own snitching.” Mouth flattened, he added, “For the police department.”

  The silence felt heavier than a wrecking ball.

  “Well.” Margo pasted on a false smile. “That doesn’t really surprise me and yet...it does.”

  More than ever, Dash wanted to remove her from the entire situation. “Do you know what cops he reported to?”

  “Not yet but I’m working on it.”

  “Logan or Reese will be able to find out.” Margo jerked up the cat carrier, then winced at the pain in her elbow.

  Neither he nor Rowdy mentioned it.

  “I’d planned to call Logan.” Rowdy watched her. “The cleaning crew is due here in a few hours. Logan said he wants to be here. I think he’s bringing a few uniformed cops with him, too, just in case he gets called away.”


  Margo put a hand to her forehead.

  Everything was as settled as it could be, so Dash took the carrier from her. “I’ll get Oliver in. Does he fight it?”

  “No.” She went to her cat. “Poor kitty is so worn-out, he might just sleep the whole way there.”

  Dash figured Margo was pretty worn-out, as well. Since getting rammed and dislocating her elbow, it had been one threat after another with little time to regroup.

  They got Oliver into the carrier with little fuss. Dash and Margo stood to go. Dash held the carrier in one hand, her overnight bag in the other. “You ready, honey?”

  Melancholy, she looked around the house one last time, and nodded. Her whole world had been turned upside down. The injury, the case, personal threats and the betrayal by her father...

  Gently, Rowdy broke the silence. “I’m going to hang out until Logan gets here, just to be safe.”

  Dash thanked him.

  It surprised him when Rowdy drew Margo in for a bear hug—but it obviously surprised her more. She didn’t resist, but she remained unyielding, sort of stiff. Rowdy ignored her reaction. When he set her away from him, Margo was flushed.

  “Well...”

  Rowdy tipped up her chin. “You don’t have to be badass 24/7, you know. You can kick back and give yourself some breathing room.”

  In a nervous gesture, she fussed with the curls on the back of her neck. “Yes, right.” A little desperate, she cleared her throat and turned to Dash for help.

  He had to grin at her. The high color in her face was not from arousal. A week ago, he would have hated seeing Rowdy touch her, even in an avuncular way.

  Now it just amused him. “I’ll see that she does just that.” She’d rest—when they weren’t burning up the sheets.

  Either way, she’d get to focus on something other than the problems.

  From what she’d hinted at earlier, he thought she just might want to focus on...him. He could hardly wait.

  * * *

  THE SUN WAS HIGH in the sky when Margo awoke and stretched out the kinks in her neck and legs. Her arm, which had been resting over the center console, remained sore enough that she took care in moving it. When Dash pulled the rental car down a long drive to what looked like a very private retreat, she sat up and looked around.

  She remembered watching for a tail after they’d left her house...until he hit the highway. Everything after that was a blur. “Did I sleep the whole way?”

  “You and Oliver both—and I’m happy to say neither of you barfed.”

  She poked his shoulder. “I said Oliver gets carsick, not me.” She peeked into the backseat, where the carrier held her cat. Oliver had curled up, his head near his rump, and was sleeping peacefully. Poor baby.

  Shielding her eyes, she studied the landscape as Dash pulled up alongside a curving drive that ended next to...

  A cabin? She snorted. Though constructed of thick logs, the large, sprawling home was far from a fishing cabin. “This is it? You’re kidding, right?”

  “Why?” He turned off the engine. “You don’t like it?”

  Like it? It was...stunning. Margo opened her door and stepped out to the dew-wet grass. A distinct chill blew off the mist-covered lake. Here on the land, the sun played peekaboo through the leaves of tall trees, but over the lake it shone bright, mixing with the mist in an ethereal way. She inhaled—and filled her lungs with crisp, fresh air.

  Dash got out of the car and, arms folded on the roof, looked at her. “It’s always a little cooler here because of the shade and the water.”

  She shivered, but didn’t want to pull on her coat. Moving forward, she ignored the house for the moment and instead looked at the large, peaceful lake. It wasn’t that far from the house, the land leading to it almost flat with only the gentlest of slopes. Spring was in the air with wildflowers just starting to bloom all along the shore.

  She saw no other houses, no other people. No sounds of traffic or conversation intruded, only the honking of geese, the trill of myriad birds, the chirping of insects. Even as she watched, a large fish did an impressive jump, splashing down again and sending ripples across the glassy surface of the lake, forcing the mist to part.

  Tension seemed to seep away, when she hadn’t even realized she was so tense.

  Stepping up behind her, Dash put his arms around her. “I love seeing you like this.”

  He mentioned love so often that she barely noticed anymore. “It’s beautiful.”

  “You’re beautiful.” He kissed the side of her neck, his mouth damp, hot. The familiar rise of his interest nudged against her backside. It was incredibly nice to be wanted so much.

  Smiling, Margo stepped out of reach. “Let’s get Oliver inside and settled. Then I want that shower.” A thought occurred. “You do have hot water, right?”

  “The house stays fully functional, even when I’m not here. I stocked up on basic groceries, canned goods and frozen meats, condiments...everything needed.” He smoothed back her hair, checking her forehead where the stitches had been removed, then pressing a tender kiss there. “The whole point of a lake house is being able to escape at the drop of a hat.”

  In so many ways, he touched her heart, made her feel special and...loved. But she was afraid to think along those lines right now. Nothing in their relationship had been normal. She knew Dash was one of “those guys,” the men who wanted to protect and care for others. He was alpha with a capital A, a natural-born leader. What had started out purely sexual had become so much more because of the threats against her.

  Without those threats, would they have had a blazing affair...and then ended things? Dash was thirty years old...and single. That had to mean he enjoyed the bachelor life, and God knew he played the field. So why should she assume she was special to him?

  Better to give it some time, to see where things went once the danger had ended.

  If it ever did.

  She remembered that their one and only time of actually consummating their attraction, they’d forgotten to use protection. Worries added up, too many to deal with at the moment.

  To give her mind something else to focus on, she surveyed the house. It seemed to go on forever. Undisturbed trees grew up around it. A stone walkway led from the gravel drive to a side door. Green metal sheeting served for the roof while large, rounded stones climbed a very tall fireplace.

  Dash unlocked the door, then pushed it open. “Go on in. I’ll get Oliver and our stuff. The house has air and heat, but for today I’ll build a fire to warm things up.”

  Curiosity kept her from arguing. She wandered in. The air smelled a little musty and a chill hung in the air. She wrapped her arms around herself.

  The interior was even more impressive than the outside.

  Natural wood...everywhere. The planks on the floor had been polished to a high shine. Lighter wood drew her attention to a cathedral ceiling broken only by multiple skylights and a few beams holding ceiling fans. A spacious, modern kitchen sat to the left and ran into an eating area and then a large sitting area, situated around that massive stone fireplace.

  Dash came in behind her. “Main bathroom is the center door. There’s a tub and shower. Bedrooms are on either side. There’s a third loft bedroom up the stairs, with a shower. That’s the one I like to use. The skylights up there make you feel like you’re sleeping in the stars.”

  Because kindling had already been laid on the grate, Dash gave her Oliver’s carrier, then went to the fireplace. In less than a minute, he had a fire started. “Be right back,” he said as he went out the door again.

  Margo freed Oliver and sat with him by the fire, soothing him so he would understand the new surroundings. He allowed that only a moment before he went to explore. She trailed him, making certain he wasn’t afraid.

  Once Dash brought in his bed
and food dishes, she took care of setting them up near the fireplace. Oliver ate as if he hadn’t been fed in days instead of hours, proof that his upset had waned.

  The fire quickly warmed the interior and made everything cozy. She loved the crackling of the flames, the scent of aged wood burning.

  Dash let her dictate the placement of the cat box, putting an old rag rug beneath it. After the cat had finished eating, Dash showed him the box. “Try to remember, bud. But if you forget, we’ll deal with it.”

  Sitting on the hearth, Margo watched Dash talk to Oliver as if he understood. He might not get the words, but the way Dash stroked him, his gentleness—that Oliver comprehended all too well. “You’re so patient with him.”

  Dash smiled toward her. “He’s family, right? And family is always important.”

  Family. Immediately she thought of her dad—and clearly Dash had, too. They looked at each other, Dash in apology, Margo in resignation.

  “I should probably call him.”

  “No, let Logan and Reese do things their way first.”

  Of course he was right. It had never been easy for her to take a backseat when decisions needed to be made. Being so personally involved made it doubly difficult.

  Letting that thought go, she stood and looked around. “I want to see the rest of the house.”

  “I’ll show you around.” Carrying her overnight bag, Dash approached. “Where do you want this? Up in the loft, or one of the rooms on this floor?”

  Turning to look at the spiral staircase, she said, “Let’s start upstairs.” She went ahead of Dash, anxious for many reasons. Awareness of Dash, so close behind her, warmed her as the fireplace couldn’t. She could literally feel his gaze on her backside with each step up.

  Today, though, would be her day. She wouldn’t let him distract her. She would do things her way—and they’d enjoy it.

  “About that shower,” Dash said, his voice low and husky with arousal.