Courage Dares Read Online Free PDF Page A

cradle.
    "Who was it?" he demanded.
    "I don't know. Somebody... nobody.... They hung up." She swung an anxious gaze to him. "Do you think...?"
    Connor didn't need to think. "Get dressed."
    "My suitcase. It's in my closet, upper shelf. You'll need to lift it down for me. I’ve laid out some clothes—"
    "You have three minutes."
    While Mary dressed in her bedroom, Connor called his mother to see if he could bring Mary to her hotel.
    “Yes. Certainly.”
    “How you feeling?”
    “Much better. I called the Renton police detective handling my case and urged him to send someone to Mary’s home. You might want to wait for him."
    "I don't think so. At least, not inside. We can wait in my car and stay hidden until he arrives."
    Mary came out in under three minutes, drying her dark hair with the towel. Passing her, Connor entered and threw open the closet door. Her battered suitcase was under a sizable array of boots, backpacks and other camping equipment.
    The outdoor gear contrasted sharply with the lace and ruffles decorating her bedroom. A feminine room for a highly feminine young woman. He glanced around as he tossed the case down beside a pile of clothes on the floral comforter, seeing a room that radiated the warmth of its owner. A cozy haven that shone with all the love a home should have.
    It contrasted sharply to his small cabin aboard ship. He had stuck up a picture of his mother, another of his college football team with him holding the winner’s trophy. The rest was U.S. Navy issue— impersonal. Sterile.
    Mary's room glowed with a woman’s touch, from the tied-back curtains and matching comforter to the cosmetics setting on the vanity. There was no comparison.
    His wandering life had been pretty much void of a woman's love, although two times he had thought he was in love, and that he had found the right woman— and two times found himself unable to take the final step toward marriage. Something always held him back.
    Yet he longed for a room such as this one waiting for him, and a woman, soft and yielding, also waiting, able to remove the loneliness. A godly woman who’d stay true and faithful while he was at sea. Who would love him deeply and raise their children. One able to handle the emergencies of life when he wasn’t around.
    That kind of woman was hard to find.
    Grabbing the feminine pile of clothes on the bed, he tossed it into the suitcase, instantly visualizing the beautiful garments adorning her. Angry at himself, he shook the vision away, then searched her drawers for sweatshirts, socks, t-shirts, and jeans.
    Mary had decorated her room in mauves and grays the color of her wide-set eyes— eyes that had blazed with determination as she demanded he explain himself.
    He hadn't wanted to scare her. Those two thugs, whoever they were, weren't fooling around. They would have killed him except for his military training. He wasn’t an expert, but his martial arts had been sufficient for them.
    Perhaps he would get a chance to know Mary. He had two more days before his ship left port. He’d like that. But right now he could feel each second ticking away like the clock at the end of a game.
    He slammed the case shut. Enough.
    Mary screamed.

6
    Connor heard Mary just as her bedroom door exploded inward. It banged against the wall and rebounded back on the man who had kicked it open.
    The man knocked it aside with a curse and stepped through the doorway. He wore black clothing— a heavy ribbed sweater, tight jeans, and boots. He immediately aimed his Baretta at Connor, the desire to shoot raging wildly in his dark eyes.
    This thug had held a gun on Connor's mother while the other one hit her. A vicious man, short, with long black hair slicked back— his thin face and long nose had reminded Connor's mother of a weasel. She had described him as such to the police, for Connor had knocked his gun aside, punched him in the face, and ripped off his mask.
    The thug had a deep gash over his left eye and a swollen