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Authors: Christy Reece

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her tomorrow.

He put the phone back to his ear. "Talk."

"It's her. She fits the description perfectly."

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"Tell me about her."

"As I told you, she goes by the name Jamie Kendrick. The photograph

you gave us from her high school portrait is almost identical. No one really

seems to know much about her or where she came from."

"You've talked to people who know her?"

"Just in passing. Not enough to cause suspicion."

"I would be quite upset if she found out and disappeared again."

There was a long pause and then the man said, "Yes sir. I realize that."

"Has she seen you at all?"

"No."

"Does she have any friends?"

"Not that we've seen."

Good; perhaps she had learned her lesson. However, he was tired of

waiting. He'd given her time and she had gone off and made a new life for

herself. A life without him? Totally unacceptable. It was time for her to

come home. Time for her to become what she was meant to be.
His
.

"Bring her here."

Damon hung up the phone. Anticipation stirred in his body. He

wouldn't force her this time...not at first. He would woo her, as he had when

they first started dating. She would get to know him again. See how much he

still loved her. He had fallen in love with her when she was sixteen and had

never stopped. She had been young, fresh, innocent. So malleable. And then

she'd started listening to her parents. That had been her mistake.

Their relationship had never been as peaceful as he had hoped it

would be. Time and again she had defied him. She thought he enjoyed

punishing her. Had even screamed that terrible accusation at him. Those

words had hurt and infuriated him. Enjoy causing her pain? He'd almost

cried that day. How could she accuse him of that? Everything he had done,

he had done for her so they could be together. And had she ever appreciated

it? Not once had she thanked him. Not once had she told him she

understood. Instead she had tried to escape in the most heinous way

possible. And when that hadn't worked, she had done something even worse.

She had betrayed him.

The more he thought about her constant betrayals, the angrier he

became. He had to stop thinking about them. Reliving the past would get

him nowhere. Once she was home, everything would be forgotten. They

would start all over again.

She would accept her new life and everything he wanted to give her.

He would forgive her and she would be his again. And if she said no again?

Then there would be the need for more lessons...perhaps harsher ones. This

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time it would take; this time it would be permanent.

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Seven

London

She stood on the other side of the street, across from the gate to his

estate. She told herself she was crazy for being here. Just because they'd

talked for hours one night and shared that one amazing kiss didn't mean

there should be anything more than that. She was now officially an LCR

operative. Any other time Noah had asked for her help, she'd had the option

of turning him down...not that she ever had. But as a full-fledged operative,

she was on call 24/7.

Most likely Lucas had wanted her to know his address as a courtesy.

She'd rescued him from Victor; he felt that he owed her. The kiss? Well,

admittedly it had been wonderful, and yes, she'd felt his arousal, but reading

more into it than that could only create problems. Besides, she'd thrown

herself into his arms. What was he supposed to do? Lucas was a normal man

with a healthy sexual appetite. He wouldn't want a woman who was neither

normal nor healthy when it came to sex. Damon had made sure she was too

damaged for anyone else.

She should go back to Paris, wait for a job. But she didn't want to. She

wanted to see him. Stupid? Absolutely. Damon had no idea where she was.

But thinking he'd stopped looking for her would be foolish and dangerous.

And if he did ever find her, he'd make sure that whoever she cared about was

hurt.

She had learned a lesson with Mrs. Winston in Memphis. McKenna

had ignored everyone in the apartment complex, wanting to make sure she

caused no one problems. Mrs. Winston had been an elderly widow. One day

McKenna had come home to find the woman struggling to carry in groceries

and McKenna had carried them up for her. As a thank-you, the elderly lady

had baked her some cookies and brought them to McKenna's apartment.

That was it. She hadn't invited the woman into her apartment. She'd accepted

the gift and said thank you. Just as she was about to close the door, she'd

caught sight of Mrs. Winston's crestfallen expression. The elderly lady had

looked so eager to please and so lonely...a loneliness McKenna recognized

in herself. In a reckless moment she would forever regret, she had hugged

the old lady for her kindness. Then she had closed the door. That was it-that's all she had done.

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The next day Mrs. Winston was dead. The police and medical

examiner had ruled that she'd slipped on the stairs, fallen, and broken her

neck. The woman's death had saddened her; she'd been a nice old lady.

Never had she suspected anything else. Then the letter came.

Damon had made sure she knew who was responsible. He'd written

out a full confession. Admitting to the deed, but blaming her, of course.

McKenna hadn't bothered going to the police. What was the point? Damon

Hughes was supposed to be dead. Accusing a dead man of a murder would

be a sure way to get herself locked up.

Besides, they hadn't believed her years ago when she'd had physical

proof of Damon's evil; why would they believe her now? The bruises and

scars from months of abuse hadn't elicited anything from them other than

disgust and contempt. A few had looked at her like she'd put them there

herself, or at the very least like she deserved what she got. How could she

argue with that reasoning? In many ways, she
had
deserved them.

Wrapping her arms around herself, McKenna turned away. No, she

couldn't face Lucas. There was nothing she could give him. She would go

back to Paris and wait for a job.

"Don't go."

Lucas!
She whirled around. He stood on the other side of the street, in

front of his home.

"How did you know I was here?"

"I looked out the window."

It shouldn't have been that easy. Had she stood here subconsciously,

hoping he would see her? That he would take the choice out of her hands?

She sure hadn't tried to hide. Was she setting herself up for a major

heartache? One she would never recover from? Having her heart broken

didn't concern her. Having Damon find out about her fascination for Lucas

frightened her more than anything she'd known since she'd lost her family. If

he hurt Lucas, she wouldn't survive it.

"I don't know why I'm here," she confessed.

"You don't have to have a reason to see a friend."

Her heart melted.
Friend
. It had been so long since she'd had one. "I

can't stay long."

He held out his hand. "Stay as long as you can."

Without consciously telling her body to move, she crossed the street.

It was as if he summoned her with just one lift of his hand. Not in command,

but in welcome.

When she reached him, she stood and let her eyes roam over his face.

It had been two weeks since she'd seen him. Somehow she thought he

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looked older, tired.

"It's good to see you again."

Silver-gray eyes gleamed as he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"And you."

"Are you well?" she asked.

His smile, more glorious than any sunrise, brightened his face and

with it her soul. "I am now."

Her heart pounding with a multitude of emotions, McKenna took his

hand. "I am, too."

Palm Beach

His heart pounding in his chest, Damon looked down at the

unconscious woman lying in the trunk of the car. So long...it had been so

long since he'd seen her, touched her. He wasn't surprised to see his hand

trembling as he gently pushed aside the silky, golden brown hair covering

her delicate face. She looked different, yet the same. A bit older, but still so

innocently sweet.

"Did she give you much trouble?"

The large man beside him grunted. "Not much. She was doing laundry

in her basement, middle of the night. We got her, took her clothes and

personal stuff from her apartment. Made it look like she left town."

"Good." He leaned down again, caressed her neck, his fingers trailing

over her firm breast. Anticipation and arousal zinged through him. "Has she

woken yet?"

"A couple of times." He shrugged his massive shoulders. "Last time

she woke, we injected her with that stuff we got from that doctor you told us

to contact. Worked great. Knocked her out, fast as lightning."

"Did she say anything?"

"She tried. Figured it was best to keep the tape over her mouth until

we got her to you."

"Did you touch her?" He asked the question mildly, but it was the

most important question of all. And the man knew exactly what he meant.

"Of course not. Only to subdue her. She's yours. I know she's not one

you'd share."

He was right about that. Damon was known to be a generous

employer. Other women he'd shared, given away, sold at below market

value. He wasn't in the human trafficking business, but when he had some

tasty merchandise he knew his friends and employees might enjoy, he'd

always been generously accommodating.

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But not McKenna. She was his. Had been his from the moment he

saw her. Anybody who got in his way, who tried to take her from him or

dared to touch her, would experience an instant and painful death.

No longer able to wait, Damon scooped her into his arms and lifted

her from the trunk. He looked at the man beside him. He owed him a debt of

gratitude. Money was a no-brainer, but Carlos had been wanting something

else. Though he had never asked for it, Damon had seen the fire in his eyes.

"The guesthouse is yours for the night. As is Lilly."

A wide grin covered the man's big face. "The whole night?"

Damon nodded. "Yours to do with as you please, my friend. Enjoy.

You've earned it."

Carlos needed no more information. He turned and started down the

path to the small guesthouse on the other side of the estate. His giant body

moved faster than Damon had ever seen it move. The man was so eager, he

wondered if Lilly would even survive the first hour.

Lilly had been a tasty treat he'd planned to enjoy a few more months

before he offered her to a friend in Spain. Delicate and lovely, she had been

a little something he'd purchased at a bargain price the last time he was in

Mexico; she had provided him with hours of immense pleasure. But he'd

seen Carlos eyeing her more than once. Now she was his for a short period.

Damon turned away from watching the eager man head for his

reward. If Lilly made it through the night, he knew of an older couple who'd

been seeking a companion such as her. Perhaps he would offer her to them.

Business decisions could wait. What he held in his arms couldn't. He'd

waited too long already. Tightening his arms around his prize, Damon

carried her into his house. He had so much time to make up for; he couldn't

wait to get started.

London

Lucas hadn't taken her inside his home yet. Stupid, but he felt if he

pushed her, she'd try to run. How the hell had he come to this state? He'd

killed more than his share of evil men, helped bring down insane dictators,

prevented terrorist attacks, and once went through a weeklong bravery test in

a culture few people knew existed. And yet never once had he felt the fear

that he did when faced with this one small woman.

"Your grounds are beautiful. How many acres?"

Gazing around the estate that had been in his family for seven

generations, he tried to see it through her eyes. It was nice, but he took it for

granted. Gently rolling hills, meandering brooks and bubbling springs, large

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expanses of woods, and two giant lakes. His father had loved the untamed,

less manicured look, and Lucas had wanted to maintain it the way his father

would have wanted. To Lucas, though, this was a place where he entertained

friends and had sometimes played football on Sundays. "I think it's about

five hundred acres, give or take a few."

"Wow." She shot him a small smile. "Bet it takes you days to cut the

grass."

He grinned. "Yes, but I have a riding mower, so it doesn't take so

long."

She wrapped her arms around her body and gave him another tight

smile. "I'm nervous."

"Would it help if I told you I am, too?"

Cocking her head slightly, she squinted into the sun to look up at him.

Lucas moved so that the sun wasn't in her eyes. "Better?"

"Yes, thanks...but why are you nervous?"

"Because I'm afraid if I say the wrong thing you'll leave."

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