Last Chance (2 page)

She shrugged. "I'll just cut off a couple."

"Fine, but I still want his tongue."

"Ah, Victor," Kane drawled. "I didn't know you wanted tongue when

we kissed before."

Aw, shit
.

It happened fast; she barely had time to prepare. With a roar, Victor

dropped his camera, pulled his gun, and lunged toward Kane.

Knife in hand, McKenna stepped in front of Kane. Knowing she'd

only get one chance, she swung upward, stabbing the blade deep into

Victor's belly.

Eyes wide with shock and pain, Victor grunted and dropped his gun.

Grabbing his stomach with one hand, he swung at McKenna with the other,

smacking her full across the face. Pain exploded; she wobbled but managed

to stay on her feet. If he came at her again, she had to be ready.

Victor stumbled backward and then dropped to his knees. His hands

held his stomach as tears poured down his face. "You bitch, I'll kill you for

that!"

McKenna stiffened her spine. What was done was done. Victor Lymes

had abducted and tortured his last victim. However, seeing him or anyone

else suffer wasn't in her plan. Sliding a smaller knife from a sheath under her

pant leg, McKenna stalked over to Victor and grabbed hold of his hair. She

pulled his head up and, ignoring the horror in his eyes, neatly sliced his

throat. He was dead before he hit the floor.

"I must say, that was quite impressive."

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Whirling around, she glared at the man she'd come to rescue. He

hadn't exactly made it easy for her. "I have a couple more I need to take care

of. I'll be back in a minute to get you."

"Okay, but would you mind cutting my ropes before you go finish

your bad-girl stuff?"

McKenna glanced down at her bloodied knife and swayed. Hell, this

was not good. Passing out before she finished a rescue would pretty much

ensure a failed mission. Straightening her shoulders, she stalked over to

Kane and sliced the bonds on his wrists and his ankles. The instant he was

free, he grabbed her and pulled her down beside him.

She jerked away. "Let me go. I've got to--"

"You're going to pass out if you don't give yourself a moment. Close

your eyes, take deep, even breaths, and...think about daisies."

She had closed her eyes and was breathing in when she heard the last

part. She opened one eye. "Daisies?"

"What's wrong with daisies? Don't you like them?"

This was the most bizarre rescue she'd ever experienced. She closed

her eyes again, took another breath. A noise in the other room had her eyes

shooting open. They were coming.

She got to her feet. "Lay back on the bed. Don't say a word," she

whispered. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Somehow his hand was at her neck; McKenna shivered as she felt his

fingers caressing her skin with soft, tender strokes. In the gentlest of voices,

he said, "Shh, love. Just relax."

How odd. She didn't like it when men touched her. So why did his

touch make her want...Darkness blanked her mind.

With utmost care, Lucas placed his little rescuer on the bed. What an

intriguing young woman. Unable to resist, he fingered silky strands of her

white-blond hair. Bleached, no doubt. Beneath her heavily made-up face, he

saw soft, young skin. She couldn't be older than her early twenties. Who was

she and why had she saved his life? That was a puzzle he had every intention

of solving. She'd succumbed with the lightest of touches and wouldn't be out

more than a few minutes. He had some necessary business to take care of

and then he had some questions for her.

Stretching, he loosened stiff joints and muscles that'd been cramped

too long as he looked around for what he could use. The room was bare with

the exception of the bed he'd been tied to and a wooden chair. Voices

outside the room told him he had little time to prepare.

Lucas took the knife the woman had dropped on the floor and the gun

that lay next to Victor's bloodied corpse. His footsteps cat-silent, he went to

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the door and listened. Two men, one middle-aged, the other one late

twenties...both Brazilian.

He stood to the left side of the door; waited for it to open. The older

man appeared first. Lucas jumped on his back, took him to the floor. His

hands cupping the man's head, Lucas gave a hard, quick twist, heard the

snap of his neck...guy barely made a sound.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the younger man come toward

him. With a quick roll, Lucas moved off the dead man's body and sprang to

his feet. The man lunged toward him; Lucas twisted, dodging him. The guy

stumbled past him and fell on top of his dead partner.

Since making too much noise might attract the wrong kind of

attention, Lucas chose the knife over the gun to take out the man. Gripping

the knife, Lucas took a step. The man jumped to his feet and fired his gun.

Pain bloomed in his right shoulder. "Shit. Should've seen that

coming." Lucas threw the knife, feeling a brief triumph when he heard a

yelp. Unfortunately, it hit the man's upper arm and only managed to piss him

off. Planting his feet on the floor, Lucas raised his gun; his vision wavered.

A slender blond blur appeared before Lucas could fire. His pretty

rescuer had regained consciousness and was back on her feet. With a high

kick he would've found erotic if he hadn't been in so much pain, she knocked

the gun from the man's hand and followed with a solid kick to his chin. With

a loud grunt, the man took the slug, then slammed his fist toward her,

catching her a glancing blow across her jaw. She fell backward.

Lunging, Lucas took the man to the floor. Using his left hand, he

applied massive pressure to the man's larynx. The body beneath him

stiffened and then relaxed into death.

"Are you okay?" his rescuer asked.

Lucas rolled off the body beneath him. Landing with a thud on the

floor, he looked up at the lovely creature. "What's your name?"

A slight smile curving her lips, she said softly, "You can call me

Ghost."

He lost consciousness with her smile in his mind.

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One

Six months later

London, England

He was tired of chasing a ghost. More than once he'd told himself she

was a figment of his overactive imagination or a hallucination caused by too

many blows to his head. That some three-hundred-pound bruiser by the

name of Rudolph or Hans had rescued him, not a delicate-as-air blond angel

named Ghost.

But she wasn't a figment; he'd felt her, touched her, smelled her. And

he couldn't get her out of his head.

On his return from Brazil, he'd launched two investigations. One was

to determine who else had been involved in his abduction other than Victor

Lymes. The other was to find his mysterious rescuer.

The investigation into his abduction had taken less than a week.

Lymes, working with two of the hotel employees where Lucas had been

staying, had seen an opportunity and taken it. The plan had been to ransom

him and split the earnings. The two conspirators had confessed immediately

when confronted by the authorities. The two men Lucas had killed in Brazil

had apparently been locals Victor had hired there. The case was wrapped up

quickly, neatly. Quietly.

The second investigation hadn't gone as well. It was as if the young

woman who'd aided in his rescue didn't even exist.

"Kane, do you agree?"

Lucas jerked his head around. Staring out the window like a

daydreaming bored employee didn't exactly inspire confidence. The twenty

executive members of Kane Industries stared at him as if he had a third eye.

"Yes, the takeover should go through without a hitch. Just make sure

we have jobs for everyone." He made a pointed stare at Stanley Humphries.

"If I hear that even one worker was displaced, heads will not be the only

body parts rolling."

The stiff nod of agreement was belied by the mutinous expression on

Humphries's face. Lucas noted it, adding to his growing list of concerns. The

man had become increasingly belligerent and uncooperative over the last

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few months. Lucas knew he was going to have to do something about him

soon.

Though Humphries wasn't a member of the executive board, he'd been

with Kane Industries for well over thirty years and had earned his spot in

making decisions. However, Lucas had become aware of recent shortcuts

and mismanagements that the man was directly responsible for.

When Lucas had taken over his family's empire, he'd been determined

to do a few things differently. That included making sure no one was

adversely impacted as Kane Enterprises thrived. Humphries apparently

didn't like that concept.

Lucas needed to make a decision about the man's involvement in

future projects. Times like this, he wished for his father's tough-minded

decision making. Lucas could kick ass and kill with the best of them, but

when it came to dealing with wayward employees, he was at somewhat of a

loss.

Harbin Nickels, CFO of Kane Industries, stood. "I think that about

wraps up everything we needed to review with you, Lucas. Anything else

that comes up, we can go through your assistants. When do you leave for

your trip?"

His mind occupied between finding a ghost and disciplining an

employee, Lucas answered with a careless "A few hours" and then was

silent.

He knew they stared at him for several seconds before they made their

way out of the room. Being distracted wasn't good for morale. A distracted

leader led to uncertainty in his employees. He'd worry about that when he

returned. Now he needed to get on his flight to Paris and talk with the one

man he believed could help him.

Paris, France

Last Chance Rescue Headquarters

"Noah, did you give Micah another piece of chocolate?"

Before moving his gaze from the computer screen in front of him,

Noah swallowed the remaining evidence. Turning to her, he gave his most

innocent look. "Mara, why would you say that?"

Hands on her hips, amazing eyes flashing, Samara advanced toward

him. "Because he's as hyper as a wildcat. Angela's with him in the

conference room, chasing him around the table."

Before he could proclaim his innocence of giving their two-year-old

son chocolate, Samara added, "And because you have chocolate on your

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chin."

He sighed. Nothing got past his Mara. "So come over here and lick it

off for me."

Her eyes darkened and she got that look on her face that could heat his

blood in an instant. She came toward him and then stopped. "Wait. What

time is Lucas Kane supposed to be here?"

Noah groaned and looked at the clock. "Fifteen minutes. Not near

enough time."

"Here." She handed him a tissue from a box on his desk. "Get the

chocolate off for now. We'll stop at the store on the way home and get some

more for later."

He grinned, already anticipating the night ahead. "Deal."

Settling into a chair across from him, she returned to the topic of their

upcoming meeting. "So you really just want my observation on the man?

Nothing more?"

"Right."

"Are you planning on telling him you know McKenna?"

"No. Her association with LCR must remain private. But I want to

meet with him before I mention his search to her. When she relayed the

details of his rescue, it got me interested in him even more."

"How so?"

"For a British billionaire, sounds to me like he handled himself a little

too well. About as well as any LCR operative. There's got to be more to him

than just inherited wealth and a keen eye for the next moneymaking

venture."

"Think he has military training?"

Noah shook his head. "Records show that he spent most of his years

collecting degrees and prepping himself to take over his family's empire. No

military training mentioned."

"Perhaps he had someone train him. As high-profile as he is, maybe

he felt he needed to know how to defend himself."

"Could be. That's where you come in. I want your impression. I may

be biased."

She smiled. "That's because you're protective of McKenna."

"I'm protective of all my operatives."

"True, but whether you want to admit it or not, you have a special

fondness for McKenna."

Noah couldn't deny it. He did feel much more like McKenna's big

brother than her boss. Not that he was technically her boss, since she still

wasn't officially employed by LCR.

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Though all active LCR operatives were freelance and could work

when they wanted, he considered them full-fledged employees. McKenna,

not so much.

LCR's first encounter with McKenna had been unusual. One day,

during the middle of an op involving the rescue of a young teenager,

McKenna had just shown up. One of his operatives had been injured, unable

to assist. McKenna had gone after one of the kidnappers, jumping on his

back and taking him to the ground. Dylan had been on the op, along with