Last Chance (7 page)

answer. McKenna gave into a small grin. She could lie without blinking an

eye, but her stomach always told the truth.

Apparently hearing the growl, he laughed. "Good. It just got here."

Her eyes widened as she surveyed the feast he'd ordered for them.

They were in Paris. This kind of meal shouldn't even be available in this

country, much less in the most elegant city in the world.

The scraping of the chair on the hardwood floor pulled her from her

lustful staring at the massive meal. She plopped inelegantly into the chair

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he'd pulled out for her and watched as he proceeded to heap a plate with

eggs, smoked ham, fried potatoes, and biscuits.

"Where did this food come from?"

A small enigmatic smile played around his mouth. "I made a call to

the chef after you fell asleep. He was kind enough to create the masterpiece

you see before you."

Oh hell
. Emotions clogged her throat and tears stung her eyes. Trust

her to cry over something as silly as the mental image of a French chef

running all over Paris looking for someone who could sell him a smoked

country ham or perusing a cookbook for a biscuit recipe.

Obviously recognizing the signs of an overwhelmed woman, Lucas

urged softly, "Eat."

McKenna took a sip of strong French coffee, pulled herself together,

and dived into a breakfast fit for a Nebraska farmer. Her father would have

loved it.

Lucas ate, because if he didn't, it would make McKenna selfconscious. However, he enjoyed watching her eat much more than he

enjoyed the meal. He needed to get over this odd fascination of watching her

consume food. Not only was it making him as hard as a rock, it was damn

freaky.

His taste in women had always been a bit on the eclectic side, but the

things he found physically attractive were, for the most part, predictable and

traditional. A pretty face, a beautiful smile, a shapely ass. McKenna had all

those things, but she also had a way of eating food that made him want to

push that food away, pull her onto the table, and devour her the way she

devoured her meal.

She leaned back into her chair with a groan of apparent fulfillment,

and he gripped the table. His erection pressed against the zipper of his

pants--painful, inconvenient, and embarrassing as hell.

"That was wonderful, Lucas. Thank you."

"Where are you from?"

Shit. Shit. Shit
.

Her eyes flaring with fear, she stood. "I think it's time for me to go."

Lucas remained seated. The knife in front of him was tempting. Hell,

never had he thought to wish that Victor had gotten the chance to cut out his

tongue. Why the fuck had he asked the one question that was guaranteed to

put every radar and defense mechanism she possessed on the highest of

alerts?
Damned idiot
. His mind had been on other things and he'd blurted his

thoughts.

Having no choice, Lucas tried to dig himself out of the hell pit he'd

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just thrown himself into. "I apologize, McKenna. I know that was out of the

bounds of our agreement. Don't leave."

She sighed. "No, I'm the one who should be apologizing. You've been

incredibly kind...fed me like a queen." Her lips tilted into a tiny smile he had

become very familiar with. It was an endearing little gesture she was

probably not even aware of, and it made her look so incredibly vulnerable

and alone. Once again, Lucas gripped the edge of the table, this time to keep

from jumping to his feet and pulling her into his arms.

"But I really do have to go."

Lucas stood then. The erection that had been throbbing for release had

disappeared. His stupidity and her fear had effectively doused it.

"Last night was..." Hell, what could he say? Amazing? That would

scare her out the door before he got in another breath.

"Nice," she said. "I haven't talked like that in ages." Another tiny

smile. "Thank you."

"Do you know where I live?"

Her brow wrinkled. "London?"

"Yes, but..." Ah hell, he might as well say it and get it over with. "I

don't want to say goodbye." When she opened her mouth to speak, he held

up his hand. "No...I can see it in your eyes. You're going to tell me we can't

see each other again."

Her slender shoulders lifted in a helpless little shrug. "We can't."

"McKenna, we're two adults. We can do what we damn well please."

"Sometimes adults don't always get what they want."

He watched as she turned toward the door. The small bag she'd

brought with her was still beside it, where she'd dropped it yesterday.

He reached into his pocket. "Here's my card."

She turned then and looked at it briefly. "No...thanks." For just an

instant, the vulnerable, alone expression flashed in her eyes as she said,

"You're a very special man, Lucas. Thank you for a lovely night." She

grabbed her bag and went through the door.

Lucas followed her but stopped at the door and watched as she stood

at the elevator. He felt almost numb, as if she was taking life and energy

from his body.

Suddenly she turned and dropped her bag. Lucas's heart stopped. And

then she was running toward him. Two feet from him, he saw in her face

what he was feeling in his heart. Opening his arms, she ran into them.

He allowed her to show him what she wanted.

Standing on her toes, she put her mouth on his and kissed him. It

wasn't a peck, it wasn't soft, and it wasn't neat. Her lips covered his and she

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pressed her tongue deep into his mouth.

Instinct took over. Pulling her against him, he lowered his head and

dove into the kiss. She tasted like strawberries, coffee, and honey. This was

not an invitation. This kiss was probably the only one she would allow, the

only one she planned to ever give him. He knew that about her.

With that thought, he drew back slightly from the kiss. He didn't plan

for this to be the only kiss they ever shared, but he damned well intended it

to be the best one either of them had ever had. Which meant turning down

the heat to a simmer instead of a full boil. Keeping his mouth on hers, he

decreased the pressure and played with her lips, feathering, retreating,

savoring.

Under the roar of passion and lust in his head, he heard a groan.

Surrender. Arousal. Need. Though everything within him wanted to press

her against the wall, strip her pants down, and love her till neither of them

remembered their names, he knew that'd be the biggest mistake of all.

Finally, knowing she needed to breathe, Lucas pulled slowly away

and looked down at the aroused, heated woman in his arms.

Panting slightly, she whispered against his lips, "I couldn't have lived

without ever knowing your taste." Then, before he could respond, she jerked

away. As if on cue, the elevator dinged, announcing its arrival. She ran

toward it.

"McKenna!"

At the entrance to the elevator, she looked at him again.

"If there's ever anything you need, you only have to ask."

Her smile one of sheer beauty, she whispered, "You just gave me

more than I ever expected." And then she disappeared.

Lucas stood staring at the closed elevator door. The only thing that

hurt worse than the unappeased arousal pounding through him was the

gaping hole in his chest that used to hold his heart. McKenna had taken that

with her.

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Four

McKenna made it out to the street without crying, which she thought

was pretty damned good considering she wanted to crawl into a corner and

bawl like a baby. She hadn't felt this bad in years. How could she have

thought she could have just one kiss and it would satisfy an eternity of want?

Lucas Kane had morphed from a golden hero of her dreams to a fleshand-bone mortal, and the fascination for him hadn't diminished as she had

hoped.

A harsh curse brought her attention back to her surroundings. Holy

crap, here she was lusting after a man in the middle of a busy Paris sidewalk

without any concept of time and place. Damon had spies everywhere, and if

he found her in Paris, which was the closest place she had to a home, she

was screwed.

Holding her head down, she draped the strap of her bag across her

shoulder and started down the sidewalk. She needed to get out of Paris for a

few days. Her bags were at a small storage facility she'd set up when she'd

first arrived in Paris. She'd go there, grab some things, and head toward

Lyon. Hopefully, Lucas would be gone by the time she returned. Being in

the same city with him was too much of a temptation.

Her mind back into total awareness, McKenna kept her head down,

her eyes avoiding contact with anyone she passed. She had to be aware,

always on guard. It had been over two years since Damon's people had

spotted her. But he hadn't stopped looking. She wasn't stupid enough to

believe that. The man had killed everyone she loved, taken everything she

held most precious.

Thinking herself free of him would be dangerous not only to her but

to those around her, too. The last time she'd felt safe, she had learned a hard

lesson. And a sweet, elderly lady had paid the price.

Damon had a way of teaching lessons. She had learned more than her

share. Unfortunately, she wasn't the only one to suffer when Damon was of a

mind to teach her something.

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No way in hell would he give up until she gave him what he wanted:

her freedom, her body, and her obedience.

Palm Beach

"We may have found her."

Damon shot up in bed. Morning blues had kept him in bed for hours

longer than he normally stayed there. His investigators' news a few days ago

had depressed him more than usual. But at those words his adrenaline

spiked.

"Where?"

"Little Rock, Arkansas."

Damon swung his legs around, his feet dropping to the floor. She was

from a small town in Nebraska, but a bigger city might suit her better since

she was hiding from him. The last time his investigators had found her she

was in Memphis, Tennessee. After the unfortunate but necessary incident

with her neighbor, she'd disappeared.

"Do you have a picture?"

"Yes. I just sent it to your cellphone. Take a look and let me know

what you think."

Damon looked at his cellphone screen and pressed a key for his

photographs. And there she was. She looked somewhat different than he

remembered. He rubbed his eyes and peered closer. The picture had been

taken from a distance, but he would recognize her anywhere. Long brownish

blond hair, the same full lips, pert little nose, baby-soft skin. Yes, it was his

McKenna!

Tearing his gaze away from the screen, he put the phone back to his

ear. "Has she seen you?"

"No. She acts a bit shy and wary, but not abnormally so. We followed

her all day yesterday while she was doing errands. Was totally oblivious."

"What name is she going by?"

"Jamie Kendrick. She works two part-time jobs, one at a dry cleaner's,

the other at a real estate office."

Fury exploded inside Damon. Dammit, she wouldn't have to work at

all if she just did what she was supposed to do. If she were with him, she

would never have to lift a finger again. Why couldn't she understand that?

"She have any relationships?"

"None that we've seen so far. She lives in an apartment complex...kind

of ratty. Since we've only just found her, we don't know that much about her

yet."

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"I expect that will change." He kept his voice mild. His investigators

knew that just the initial news that she'd been found wasn't enough. In a few

days, they should know what the last pair of shoes she bought looked like

and whether they pinched her feet. They were that good and he had that

much money.

"Yes. We'll report more soon."

"Very good, Carlos. I'll make sure you're amply rewarded."

"Thank you, sir." There was no pride or smugness in his voice. The

man knew Damon didn't stand for that.

Damon closed his phone and dropped his head back to his pillow. His

love had been found. Years ago, he'd given her the choice to come to him on

her own and she had defied him. Killing the old lady had been an

unfortunate by-product of McKenna's defiance.

The elderly woman had fallen down the stairs...okay, admittedly she'd

been shoved a little, but he'd been trying to get into McKenna's apartment

and the old bitch had caught him. She had been going to call the police. He'd

tried to explain to her that he was an old friend, and she hadn't believed him.

The little struggle on the stairway had lasted not even a minute. He'd pushed

her away and she'd fallen down the entire flight of stairs and broken her

neck.

And he'd never gotten to see McKenna. Instead, he'd had to send her a

damn letter explaining what had happened and how it was once again her

fault. If she had come to him as he'd asked, the old biddy would still be

alive. He had expected the letter to produce a good result. That hadn't