Last Chance (32 page)

crack in his heart. Both McKenna and Lucas Kane would pay for this.

He hadn't asked her if there had been other men in her life. Hadn't

believed there was a need. Long ago, he'd told her what would happen to

anyone she became close to. If he'd killed her fucking neighbor, just what

the hell did she think he would do to a man who'd been between her legs? A

place no man but Damon belonged?

Why would Lucas Kane even be interested in McKenna? Yes, she was

beautiful to Damon, but that was because he loved her. The scars on her

body aroused him, but only because he had put them there; they were marks

of his love, his devotion. Lucas Kane should have been repelled. Besides,

though he adored McKenna's sweet innocence and slight dim-wittedness,

why would a powerful, wealthy man be attracted to her? She should be a

nonentity to other men; to Damon, she was everything.

Something didn't add up. Either way, Lucas Kane was a dead man.

The bastard might be one of the wealthiest men in the world, but he

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didn't have the contacts or the drive Damon did. The man had inherited his

wealth; Damon had earned every penny and had killed more than a few to

get what he had. He would use every bit of that wealth to get Lucas Kane.

Breathing in and out several times to control the rage, Damon began

to plan. He would have Kane brought here. As the plan took on substance,

the familiar anticipation swept through him. He'd killed many people but had

only enjoyed a few. The kills he enjoyed, though, had brought him a rush

he'd never experienced from anything else, except disciplining McKenna.

Lucas Kane was famous, wealthy, and powerful. Killing him would

be a rush of monumental proportions.

Taking his cellphone from his pocket, he hit the number for one of his

investigators. Once Kane was secured and brought here, McKenna would

receive a lesson in obedience and faithfulness she would never forget; Lucas

Kane would be his weapon.

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Nineteen

Her steps silent, McKenna began her own tour of the mansion. After

breakfast, Damon had given her a cursory tour, pointing out what he was

obviously most proud of, which included a massive gym, Olympic-sized

swimming pool, and some sort of art collection in the giant courtyard that

seemed to be mostly of naked women with big breasts. She'd oohed and

ahhed, smiled and lied until her jaws ached.
Ostentatious
and
pretentious

were two apt descriptions for Damon's home.
Ugly as hell
would be another.

After the tour, he'd suggested she put on her swimsuit and take a dip

in the pool he told her he'd had built especially for her. Grinding out one last

grateful smile had hurt, but she'd managed it. Then, thankfully, he'd left her

with a kiss on her forehead and a warning not to get too much sun.

Over breakfast, she'd heard him tell Margret that he had to leave the

compound for a while. His statement had given her a much-needed lift.

Staying in character as the sweet, clueless, and ever so grateful McKenna

was exhausting. The freak was buying her act but having a reprieve for a few

hours away from him was a huge relief. Not only could she stop with the

fake sweetness for a while, she now had the chance to explore on her own. If

she was caught by anyone, she would merely explain that she was just

becoming more acquainted with her new home.

An hour later, she had drawn two conclusions. First and foremost was

that Jamie was not inside the mansion. She'd been through every single

room. Surprisingly, no door was locked, but since there didn't seem to be

anything to hide, perhaps she shouldn't be surprised. And though Damon had

only given her a quick tour of the grounds, McKenna doubted Jamie was

anywhere on the estate.

The second conclusion was that Damon Hughes had a hell of a lot of

money coming from somewhere. When she'd first met him, he had worked

as a mechanic at a garage in town. Where he'd gotten his wealth she could

only speculate, but she was quite sure none of his activities were legal.

Taking a breath, McKenna eased the door open to a room she'd made

a quick search of a few minutes before. Damon's office. This was one place

where it would be difficult to explain her presence. That couldn't be helped;

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she had to take the risk. There were no landline phones in the house.

Everyone used cellphones and she hadn't yet found one she could steal.

Noah and his team were probably going crazy, not knowing where she

was. If nothing else, she needed to find a computer so she could email him.

If she got caught, she got caught. Damon wouldn't kill her, although it was

the only thing she was sure he wouldn't do. Just about anything else was still

possible.

Until she found Jamie's whereabouts, she needed to stay healthy.

Once she found her, she'd turn the tables on Damon. He didn't yet know that

she could kick his pampered ass and those of just about all of his employees.

She looked forward to the opportunity to show him what she could do.

Damon's office was as gigantic, cavernous, and pretentious as the rest

of his mansion. In the middle of the room was a giant oak desk with almost

nothing on it other than a laptop and a large dictionary. For some reason, the

image of Damon looking up a word like a regular person was amusing.

The desk drawers opened easily and revealed nothing more than

ordinary office equipment, although the silver-plated letter opener was too

enticing not to grab. She looked down at her clothes, cursing the silly,

feminine dress. In the closet of clothes Damon had provided were only

dresses--short, revealing, and completely lacking in places to hide a weapon.

Deciding she'd have to come back for it, McKenna returned it to the drawer.

If she was caught with it, there was no way in hell she could come up with a

reasonable explanation.

She sat down at the desk and opened the laptop, relieved to see that he

did have a wireless connection. Quickly accessing one of her email accounts,

she typed a message to Noah:

I'm fine. Still looking for the girl. Don't believe she's here. Don't know

where I am. Hear the ocean. See palm trees and tropical flowers. We

traveled south for about an hour in the helicopter. Believe I'm still in

Florida. Will contact you ASAP
.

She stared at the screen for several more seconds. What else could she

say that would help them? Shaking her head, she added:
Don't worry
. She hit

send.

Damon's desk was so neat, his records were probably on the laptop.

They were sure to be password-protected, but she had to try anyway. She

pulled up a list of documents and clicked on one captioned "Merchandise."

The password screen came on. Taking a chance, she typed in "McKenna."

The error screen came up. Dammit. What did a narcissistic psycho use as a

password? She typed in several random words but still came up empty.

Blowing out a frustrated curse, McKenna exited the program and

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closed the laptop. Damon might be coming back soon; she'd have to return

when she had more time. Before leaving, she used up precious minutes

walking every inch of the office, pressing on walls and pulling books from

shelves, hoping for a hidden door to open and reveal some secrets.

Disgusted, she gave up. If there was anything here, it was well concealed.

Opening the door as quietly as possible, McKenna crept out of the

office and closed the door behind her. She turned and swallowed a scream.

Damon stood in the hallway. He had seen her walk out of his office.

Looking only mildly curious, he asked, "What are you doing, my

love?"

She had no answers for him, so she went with her sweetly innocent

smile. "Just looking around."

"Looking around for what?"

She shrugged, offered an embarrassed little laugh. "I still know so

little about you. It's been almost nine years since we were together. All

you've told me about yourself is that you have diverse interests in a lot of

different things."

"And you thought you'd be able to figure it out all by yourself just by

looking through my office?"

Swallowing a snarl at his obnoxious superiority, she went with what

usually worked for him. "I'm sorry, Damon. I was just curious."

"Come here."

Reminding herself that he might bring her pain but he wouldn't kill

her, she went to him. She'd dealt with pain before; she could deal with it

again. Still, her movements were jerkier than she would have liked.

He took her hand in his. "What is it you wish to know, my love?"

"Everything, Damon. When we were together before, you weren't

rich. But in a relatively short period of time, you've been able to amass a

fortune?"

He pulled her hard against him and spoke against her mouth. "How I

earn my money is really none of your business, is it?"

"I just thought--"

"Don't think, McKenna. You'll get wrinkles and I'll have to throw a

sheet over your head to fuck you."

She said nothing, kept her face expressionless. He was getting meaner

now. She could see it in his eyes. Was it because he'd caught her snooping?

Or was this just a natural progression for a sadistic murderer?

Either way, she needed to soothe his ire. Having him suspect her of

anything would get her nowhere. She lowered her head and whispered

humbly, "Please forgive me."

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He was silent for several seconds; she could feel his eyes scrutinizing

her. Would he buy her act? McKenna didn't dare raise her head. She'd done

that once without his permission and had ended up on the floor with a

bloodied nose.

"Look at me."

Her head popped up obediently.

"Do not for a moment think I will forget this. However, since this is

your first day here, I'll forgive your little indiscretion." He tightened his grip

on her arm until she winced. "You won't be snooping again. Will you,

McKenna?"

"No, Damon. I won't."

He smiled at her, but it wasn't the condescending indulgent one from

this morning. There was cruelty there. "Come. We'll have cocktails by the

pool. Then I really think you need to take that swim I suggested to you this

morning. You're looking a bit pale, not nearly as attractive as I prefer in my

women. Then perhaps a nap before dinner." His smile grew broader, his

anger apparently over for now. "We have an exciting week ahead of us.

You're going to need all of your energy."

"We do?"

"I've allowed you several questions already. I really don't believe you

want to push your luck, do you?"

Properly meek, she said, "No, Damon, I'm so sorry."

There was the smile again, but the cold, hard gleam in his eyes

remained. Something had definitely changed. Ice surged through her veins.

She'd seen that look in his eyes before. It was usually followed by severe

punishment.

His words, though condescending and cruel, revealed nothing. "That's

a good bitch. Besides, I don't want to spoil the surprise. Let's just say that the

upcoming events will be something we'll both remember for a very long

time."

More uneasy than she'd been since she had seen him again, McKenna

nodded absently and let him lead her down the hallway. What the hell was

he talking about? Damon's surprises usually meant intense pain for her and

extreme enjoyment for him.

Since he hadn't tried to rape her since she got here, she could only

assume that was in the plan. She tried to ignore the nausea crawling at her

insides at the thought of having sex with Damon. While it was true she'd had

sex on jobs before to maintain her cover, that was before she'd met Lucas.

Not only would Damon's touch remind her of what he was and what he had

done, the thought of being with any man other than Lucas was abhorrent.

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When she'd made the decision to let Damon take her, she had known having

sex might be a possibility but hadn't allowed herself to think about it. Now

that it was a very real probability, she honestly didn't know if she could go

through with it.

One thing at a time, McKenna
.

She drew a long, shallow breath. She would face that nightmare

scenario when she had to. For right now, she had more than enough to think

about. Whatever she could find out about Jamie, she needed to do it soon.

* * *

Lying in a cramped car trunk with his hands bound, Lucas stared up at

the monster who'd tortured and raped McKenna. Odd--he actually looked

like a normal man. Attractive, early thirties, with an air of hard-edged

sophistication that many women might find attractive. And those women

who were unfortunate enough to catch his attention were no doubt horrified

to realize they'd hooked up with a maniac.

"Welcome to my home, Mr. Kane. Did you have a pleasant trip?"

Since tape covered his mouth, Lucas let his eyes speak for him. He

may have lured the bastard for this meeting, but the fury he felt was real.