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Authors: Christy Reece

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take out a psychopath like Victor Lymes. How had this McKenna come to

be?

The things she liked were very American. From food to movies and

books, all reflected her American heritage. How long she'd been in Europe

he didn't know, but her core desires and heart were still with her native

country. So why was she here in Paris, seemingly all alone?

A chime at the door indicated their lunch had arrived. And with it, her

wariness returned. Lucas felt a punch that went straight through to his gut. In

that instant he realized something deeply disturbing. The captivating and

enchanting McKenna was not only wary, she was absolutely terrified.

Question was,
What was she terrified of?

Palm Beach, Florida

Damon Hughes stared at the glittering water of his Olympic-sized

swimming pool. Loneliness and rage made an odd combination, but it had

been part of his life for so long, he had become used to its burning presence.

This pool was for her. He'd had it built just for her, because she loved to

swim. He remembered taking her to the lake when they first started dating.

She'd been so sweet, so cute in her new bikini. The one her mother had told

her she couldn't buy. He'd given her the money and she'd gone back the next

day and bought it. She hadn't liked being told what to do. He'd loved that

hint of defiance and independence. Had seen it as a challenge.

The emptiness of the pool taunted him. She should be swimming in it,

enjoying herself. Instead, she continued to run from him. When would she

learn her lesson? When every person she cared for was gone? Why hadn't he

seen that selfishness in her when they first met? When would she understand

that he would never give up looking for her, wanting her, loving her? Years

might have passed, but his love for her would never die.

Her defiance against her parents had been funny. He'd encouraged it,

nurtured it. It had worked so completely with his plans. However, her

defiance against him had been another matter. Something he hadn't been

able to tolerate.

"Mr. Hughes, the investigators are here."

Damon stood, resigned to hearing yet another of their failed reports. If

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he hadn't been quite sure that everything was being done to find her, he

would have had every one of the bastards ripped apart and fed to the sharks.

But he believed them. The last couple of years, she'd become excellent at

hiding. Where she'd gotten the help and the training to do such a thing

bothered him almost as much as not being able to find her. If he ever found

out who had assisted her, they'd be screaming for death long before he

granted it to them.

As he headed to his offices, he paid little attention to the opulence that

surrounded him. He'd become accustomed to such things in the last few

years. Though he had worked hard for his money and stature, they hadn't

brought him the happiness he sought. Happiness couldn't exist until she was

back in his arms, where she belonged.

Delaying the inevitable, Damon bypassed his office and headed

upstairs. His investigators would wait...they worked for him. He had a need

to feel close to her for just a short period. If he were to hear, as he fully

expected, that there were no leads, he wanted to have this peaceful memory

in his head.

He pulled the key from his pocket. He and his trusted housekeeper,

Margret, were the only two who had access to this room. No one else dared

come in here; they knew their lives would be over. He stepped inside and

leaned against the closed door. He inhaled deeply, the scent of light floral

perfume washing his senses in memory. Her favorite. He had it replaced

each month so it wouldn't lose its fragrance. Each day Margret would come

in and dust the room, and before she left, she would spray just a hint so he

could come in and enjoy it when he pleased.

The room was pink and feminine. An exact replica of the bedroom

she'd had as a teenager. And it was such a representation of her. Fair and

delicate as a flower. That was one of the things he loved the most about her.

She was all girl, pure femininity. No bows or frills, nothing silly. Just a soft,

lovely fragility that literally made him ache.

The first time he'd seen her, at a theater in Omaha, Nebraska, his heart

had raced. He had sneaked in to watch the movie and had ended up watching

her instead.

She'd worn a blue sundress with white flowers on it. Her soft, golden

brown hair had been long, reaching just above her beautiful bottom. She

hadn't giggled like so many other girls her age. She'd seemed serious, mature

but oh so innocent. And though she was only sixteen, he knew from the

moment he saw her that she was his dream come true.

As usual, he was drawn to the photograph of her he'd had enlarged

and framed. It was the first thing he'd put in this room; the only thing that

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Christy Reece

was different from the original room. Sometimes he'd come in here and

stand for hours, just gazing at her loveliness. Often, knowing no one was

around to see him, he would let his tears flow freely. Tears of heartache;

tears from her betrayal.

Sighing, Damon turned from the portrait and gazed about the room

again. A shrine to her. Out of his love, he had replaced everything she had

lost. This was what she'd had before all the troubles started. Before her

family intervened and ruined everything. Before she broke his heart.

He had few regrets in his life. They were useless and insignificant,

and they changed nothing. However, if he had to admit to one regret, he

might have told her to leave the house. Years ago, he'd had a volatile temper

and little discipline. Now he could control his rage and react with reason.

Still, he had no remorse for what had happened. It had to be done.

No, he would never regret killing McKenna's parents. They'd deserved

to die. He did, in his weakest of moments, wish that he hadn't made her

watch.

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Christy Reece

Three

Careful not to touch her, Lucas replaced the blanket around

McKenna's shoulders that she'd knocked off during one of her nightmares.

Settling back into the chair he'd sat in all night, he watched as she seemed to

sleep peacefully.
Seemed. Ha
. When was the last time McKenna had slept in

peace? In the three hours she'd been sleeping on the sofa, she'd tossed and

turned, mumbled and cried. He had only understood a few of her mutterings.

The words had made little sense, but the emotion in them had broken his

heart.

Before she'd fallen asleep, they'd talked for hours...most of the night.

He'd told her things he'd never told another living soul. Concerns and

worries he'd always kept to himself came out of him as though she were his

therapist. Of course, he'd kept some vital information back. He hadn't told

her about his once secret life.

When he'd joined the agency, he'd sworn an oath, and when he'd left

the agency, he'd sworn the same oath. Never talk about the organization few

people in the world knew existed. Having her know his background wasn't

pertinent to the here and now except for one tiny detail. He wanted to know

who she was running from, because he wanted to find him.

Would telling her make her trust him? She'd told him many things but

almost nothing about where she'd come from or why she was so frightened.

The information he'd gleaned about her had come from her likes and dislikes

and reading between the lines. She was young, afraid, trying so hard to be

strong and brave. And the obsession he'd had since meeting her had grown.

She'd fallen asleep around four. He'd been in the midst of describing a

sunset he'd experienced the last time he was in Tangiers. And like that

setting sun, she'd sunk into the cushion of the sofa and drifted into slumber.

It was one of the sweetest sights he'd ever witnessed. And one of the most

humbling. She trusted him. If she hadn't, she wouldn't be lying on his sofa,

vulnerable and open.

Lucas closed his eyes as arousal surged. Hell, having her trust him

was one thing; having her trust him enough to make love to her would be

altogether different. His angel would probably turn into a tigress if he made

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one move in a romantic direction. He'd have to take it slow, lure her with

cheeseburgers and ice cream.

Arousal surged harder. He'd watched her devour both, and it'd been a

stimulating sexual experience beyond his understanding. Watching a woman

who looked as ethereal as a specter consume a massive amount of food

brought an unexpected lust to the surface. The pleasure she seemed to derive

from eating made him wonder if she would make love with the same amount

of energy and enthusiasm.

He shifted in his seat again. Thinking about that was getting him

nowhere. Lucas closed his eyes. A fifteen-minute snooze, then he'd resurface

to stare and to figure out how the hell he could hold on to a woman he knew

would never willingly be held.

McKenna blinked, returning from the deepest sleep she'd had in years.

Used to bounding out of bed and getting the hell out of wherever she was,

this feeling of lethargic contentment was unprecedented and scary as hell.

Nevertheless, she savored the sensation.

Shifting her head on the pillow, she saw Lucas sitting across from her.

His eyes were closed, their silver-gray depths hidden from view. Oh man,

was she in trouble. Lucas was the only man she'd ever met that she would

love to just sit and be with, talking about anything, everything, or nothing.

She just wanted to be near him.

He'd talked about his childhood, about the various schools he had

attended, and about Kane Enterprises. He had seemed open, no shadows

apparent. And then she'd asked about his father. He hadn't minded talking

about him, but the shadows had emerged. Dark, ominous, and full of pain.

There was love there and a hell of a lot of guilt.

She wanted to know more; she wanted to know everything. He was a

dangerous lure. One she damn well could not afford.

Regret pulling at every cell and muscle in her body, McKenna put her

feet on the floor. She would refresh herself in the bathroom and then get the

hell out of here. She wouldn't leave without saying goodbye. Not because it

wouldn't be the polite thing to do. Politeness had disappeared from her life

long ago. However, they needed to get one thing straight before she

disappeared from his life for good. He had to stop looking for her.

Stepping quietly into the bathroom, she gazed around at the

temptation. Lavish and expensive toiletries filled the room. Cursing herself

for her one major weakness didn't stop McKenna from taking advantage of

such luxury. Though she refrained from taking a bubble bath in the giant

Jacuzzi, she showered, taking advantage of the fragrant shower gel,

expensive shampoo, and wondrously decadent body lotion.

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Christy Reece

Twenty minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom, feeling like a

new woman. Though she'd had to put on the same wrinkled clothing,

beneath her jeans and T-shirt she felt feminine and pretty for the first time in

years.

The fragrance of breakfast assailed her senses the moment she opened

the door. She'd told Lucas many things about herself last night. Nothing that

would give him any real knowledge of her past, but he'd learned more things

about her than anyone else on this earth. And from the scents of the

breakfast he'd ordered, he had made use of that knowledge.

Breakfast was her favorite meal. Her mom had been a wonderful cook

and her father had been a breakfast lover. Every Sunday the family had

shared what her dad referred to as a good old-fashioned country chow-down.

Her heart clutched as she remembered what she'd once taken for granted,

rolled her eyes at, and disdained. Oh God, how she wished she could take it

all back. She would give anything and everything if only she could.

"Breakfast is ready."

McKenna jerked to attention. She was thankful she was long past the

days of shedding tears for the massive mistakes she'd made. Explaining

those tears to this man who seemed to be able to see straight into her soul

already wasn't something she could deal with.

He was standing in the elegant dining room, beside a food-laden table.

She'd learned many things about Lucas Kane last night. One she hadn't

expected was his need to take care of her. Despite the knowledge that she

was treading on the most dangerous ground with him, she couldn't prevent

the little thrill that went through her. That this beautiful, golden Adonis of a

man wanted to do nice things for her filled her with all sorts of warm tingles.

She ignored her heart's warning that reminded her the last man who'd

filled her with those feelings had brutally betrayed her in the worst possible

way. That man and Lucas had nothing in common. Besides, after today she

would never see him again. What could one breakfast hurt?

"Hungry?"

Before she could speak, the loud growl of her stomach provided the

BOOK: Last Chance
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