Skye’s stomach clenched.
“Daniel explains that joining with him is the only way for them to feel a kinship with the other women, part of a sisterhood. They’re all Daniel’s wives in the eyes of God. In a few weeks, sometimes a month or a little longer, they’ll go to the man who will take Daniel’s place as their earthly husband.”
“I can’t believe you thought this was okay. You were all right with the idea of being Daniel’s temporary wife?”
“Yes. No.” A shudder passed through her, and she took a deep breath. “I don’t know. At the time . . . the way Daniel explained everything . . . it didn’t seem wrong.”
“It seems like a way for Daniel Henson to provide himself with an endless stream of young, pretty woman. Who the hell does he think he is?”
Molly’s eyes welled. She jerked a Kleenex out of her satchel and dabbed her eyes. “I hate him.”
Skye’s gaze swung across the console. “Are you sure you hate him, Molly? Or are you still in love with him?”
Molly started sobbing.
Skye eased the sports car over to the side of the road and turned off the engine. She reached down and took hold of Molly’s hand.
“Whatever your feelings are for Daniel, none of this is your fault. He took advantage of a vulnerable young woman. That’s apparently what he does. He targets women who need help of some kind, then offers it to them. In the end, the only person he’s helping is himself.”
Molly wiped away the wetness on her cheeks. “Thank you for saying that. In my heart, I know it’s true. I feel like such a fool.”
“It’ll take some time, but eventually, that’ll change. You’re going to get a fresh start, and once you do, you’ll be able to step back and see things more clearly.”
Molly glanced away.
Skye started the engine and pulled back onto the road. They had almost reached Jefferson Depot, a meeting spot that was close to the halfway point between Blancha Springs and Denver. There was a burger and ice cream stand called the Hungry Moose Caboose where people could stop and buy food.
Skye pulled into the parking lot to wait for Trace, whose drive, with city traffic and collecting the gear Edge wanted, would take longer. They ordered a burger and a shake and sat at a wire-mesh table outside to eat. The air was chilly, but the sky was azure blue, and the sun was shining, warming them through their clothes.
Trace pulled into the parking lot not long after they’d finished their meals. Skye dumped her trash, Molly did the same, and they walked over to his black GMC Yukon.
Tall, dark-haired, and handsome, Trace climbed out of the SUV and started toward them. He was charming and kind, with a wonderful smile. He was also a very dangerous man when the need arose. Most women felt an instant attraction to Trace. Molly shrank away from him. Even her physical stature seemed to shrink.
Extremely perceptive, Trace noticed Molly’s reluctance and didn’t move too fast or too close, treating her as he would a frightened child.
“Molly, this is Trace Elliott,” Skye said. “He’s a very good friend and someone you can trust.”
Trace smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Molly.”
“You, as well, Trace,” she said, but the words didn’t sound sincere. Molly didn’t trust men—not anymore. And Trace was definitely all man.
“I’ll be driving you back to Skye’s apartment,” he said. “We can stop on the way if there’s anything you need.”
“The fridge is stocked,” Skye said. “At least you’ll have plenty to eat.” She had given Molly enough cash for some new clothes, shoes, makeup, or whatever feminine products she needed.
“I’ll be fine.”
Trace handed Skye the keys to the Yukon, and she handed him Edge’s car keys. Trace opened the passenger door to the Nissan and waited for Molly to settle inside. She gasped when he leaned across to fasten her seat belt.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m harmless.” He smiled. “Skye can attest to that.”
When it came to women, Trace was anything but harmless. But he was always up front with them and never took advantage, and he would defend a woman with his life if it came to it. Knowing at least a little of Molly’s situation, he would be especially gentle with her.
Skye thought of Edge. She had never been interested in Trace as anything more than a friend, but her attraction to Edge grew stronger every day.
Like Trace, Edge had been raised to treat a woman with respect and defend her with everything he had. He was also honest with the women he dated—and there were legions of them.
He wasn’t looking for anything permanent. He promised a good time while it lasted, but that was all. Though that kind of relationship had never appealed to Skye before, she had actually begun to give it some thought.
