Last Chance (28 page)

kept specifically for McKenna to call him on. And she had finally called.

McKenna was coming home! The real McKenna. Not that slut of a fake he'd

gotten rid of.

After all these years, his McKenna had called him. So what if it was to

make a trade? The reason didn't matter. What mattered was that she would

be with him. Once that was accomplished, he'd make damn sure they never

parted again. She had said she was ready to accept her place, her role. He

would soon see.

Was she working with someone? She had said she wasn't, but how

could she not be? McKenna might be the love of his life, but he knew her

well. She wouldn't be able to conceive of making a trade all by herself. She

would need someone guiding her, telling her what to do. His McKenna was

an innocent in the art of deception. One of the many things he loved about

her. She couldn't lie worth a damn.

If she tried to double-cross him, she would pay a high price. Either

way, he was determined to have her back. This was the closest he'd been to

having her back in years. He'd damn well not fail.

His body hardened at all the ways he intended to ensure that she

would stay with him forever. All the things he'd done to her when they were

together before had been to train her, but they hadn't worked as they should

have. The years they'd been apart had given him plenty of time and

opportunity to study and practice how to create a perfect submissive

McKenna.

He would reinitiate her to the pleasure of exquisite pain. Once her

training was over, she would finally be everything he had dreamed.

Willing his body to settle down, he picked up another phone. To show

her the depth of his love, he would even attempt to keep his promise and

return the woman. The man he'd sold her to might still have her. If not, there

were plenty of substitutes he could use. One whore was just as good as

another.

Either way, soon McKenna would be back where she belonged. And

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he would kill anyone who got in his way.

London

The photographs strewn across his desk were better than he

remembered. The photographer might be a sleaze, but he was a talented

sleaze. Of course, McKenna was an exquisite subject to photograph. The

elegant lines of her face, the lovely tilt of her chin when she spoke, the

unbelievable but much too rare smile that could brighten her entire face to a

beauty beyond description...the ache he'd had since she left increased.

"Which ones do you want to use?" Myron Phelps asked.

Lucas slid two photographs across the desk--the two that clearly

revealed their faces and that they were only aware of each other. "Do you

have the wording?"

"Yes, I typed it up this morning." Myron handed him a sheet of paper.

"Just to make sure it was exactly what you wanted. Then I'll send it to

Tattles."

The handsome, mysterious, and oh so wealthy Lucas Kane is

apparently holding out on us once again. Who is this new lovely? Insiders

report the first name McKenna. Can it be that one of England's most eligible

bachelors has finally been snared?

Lucas inwardly winced at the over-the-top description, but it sounded

similar to other things that had been written about him. No one should be

able to detect that the message was a lure for a killer. "This gives just the

right amount of information. And you're sending it to the major newspapers

tomorrow?"

"Yes.
Tattles
will run it tomorrow in their paper, and then the rest will

have it by the next day. Are you sure you don't want to go with just the

newspapers in the southeastern U.S.?"

"No. Even though it's likely he lives there, I want to do this only once.

If we hit them all, he'll be certain to see it at least once." Lucas shrugged.

"And if he sees them several times, that will only make him more anxious

and determined to come after me as quickly as possible."

"Once they're printed, other countries will have them, too."

Meaning McKenna would see the photos as well. That was inevitable.

He just hoped to hell she saw them
after
he got to Damon. Either way, his

course was set; he wouldn't change his mind. "Damon needs to see the

photos as soon as possible. Making them widespread will ensure that."

"If he's got eyes out, he should know about them within forty-eight

hours."

"Perfect. I want to make the abduction as simple for him as possible,

but not so easy that his suspicions are aroused. Put out another news notice

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the day after the photos are published. I'll be in the U.S. all week. Give an

itinerary with as much information as you can without it screaming that I

want him to know where I am."

"Anything else?"

"Yes. Once I'm taken, you should be able to track me with the GPS in

my watch. However, I'm not certain he'll leave that on me, so I've asked my

dentist to implant a small one in one of my back teeth."

Myron grimaced. "I've heard about the procedure. Sounds painful."

Lucas shrugged. He fully expected more than just pain in his mouth.

When Damon's men took him, he'd have to endure some abuse. If he acted

as though he could handle himself, they'd keep a closer watch on him. If he

acted like the untrained, wealthy man most of the world thought him, they'd

be less on their guard.

"After the implant, I'll fly to Atlanta. If he
is
in the Southeast, being

that close to him should make it easier for his people to get to me."

Phelps stood and shook Lucas's hand. "I wish you well, Lucas."

"Thank you."

As Conrad saw his investigator out, Lucas mentally reviewed his

plans. Tomorrow he would clear up anything urgent at his office. If he didn't

return, provisions had to be made. His attorney had been round that morning

already and Lucas had initiated some key changes. If the worst did happen,

McKenna would be a wealthy woman. Most important, she could finally live

in peace, because if there was one thing he would ensure before he took his

last breath, Damon Hughes would have breathed his last, too.

He was counting on Damon wanting to be the one to kill him. Yes, he

was making some dangerous assumptions, but his life had once been full of

risks and he'd never been personally invested in doing more than achieving

his goal and surviving. This was completely different. He was risking

everything for McKenna for one reason only: because she was worth the

risk.

Palm Beach

Damon stood in the middle of his dressing room and observed himself

in the triple full-length mirror. Odd, but he suddenly felt a bit nervous about

seeing McKenna again. The fake bitch who claimed to be McKenna had

looked at him like she thought he was attractive. And the other women he'd

been with over the years had all assured him with their lust that he still had

the kind of looks that made a woman wet and ready. But this was the real

McKenna. Eight years had passed. Would she still find him attractive? He'd

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been twenty-three years old when they met, twenty-four when they were

torn apart. Would she think he had changed much?

Turning side to side, Damon examined himself. He'd gotten the best

features from both his parents. Dark brown eyes. Good hair--thick and

medium brown with a hint of auburn highlights. The hair had come from his

mother; his height and physique came from his old man.

In high school, all the girls had panted after him; he'd taken the goodlooking ones up on their offer. McKenna had been different from any other

girl. She hadn't fallen all over him, but she'd been so cute and sweet, so

incredibly innocent, he'd practically fallen all over her.

Drawing closer to the mirror, he examined his face. No doubt about

it--he had only gotten better-looking with age. McKenna had fallen for him

when he was a good-looking young man. Now he was older, handsome,

ultra-sophisticated. He had the money to buy her anything and everything a

woman could want.

In a couple of years, he'd allow her to have a baby, maybe even two if

the first one didn't spoil her figure. Though he kind of liked the idea of

McKenna swelling up with his seed. She'd have a boy and Damon would

raise him right. Wouldn't leave him to go out drinking or partying the way

his mama had, or beat the shit out of him like his old man had. He'd teach

him all the things it was important for a man to know. Things Damon had

learned the hard way. His son would have what he'd missed out on.

A knock on the door had him turning. He was expecting some news of

the bitch who'd faked being McKenna. Elliott, one of the men who'd been

with him for years, stuck his head in and reported, "They don't want to give

her up. Said they're very pleased with their purchase and hope you

understand."

Pleasing a business associate was much more important than returning

some whore, especially since she had lied to him. Damon shrugged. "One's

as good as another. Can Lilly stand up yet?"

"Yeah, I saw her walking yesterday. Kind of slowlike, but she was

moving."

"As long as she's able to walk, that's good enough. Get a wig about the

length and color of that woman's hair. We'll put it on Lilly. She's no good to

me now, anyway. Hell, I doubt I could pay anyone to take her off my hands

after what Carlos did to her."

A smile of admiration lifted the man's thick lips. "Will do." He turned

to leave.

"Oh, and Elliott, make sure Lilly doesn't give us away. McKenna may

have some people with her. Make sure they have no reason to doubt her

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identity. Explain that a bullet in her back would be a hell of a lot worse than

the rough ride she got from Carlos."

Another nod and Elliott went out the door.

Damon turned back to the mirror, his smile even brighter. McKenna's

little ultimatum hadn't sat well with him, anyway. Why should he have to

give up anything? If she'd done what she should have, none of this would

have been necessary. She thought she had him right where she wanted him,

but she would soon learn that Damon had more than a few tricks up his

sleeve.

Laughter burst from him. He couldn't wait to see her face when he put

his plan in place.

McKenna sat across from Noah on the private jet. Dylan and Aidan

were at the other end of the plane talking quietly. Samara and Micah were

lying down in the small bedroom.

They were bound for Tampa, where she would finally face her past.

She and Noah had gone over the scenario three times since she'd come

onboard. The flight was a long one, but she knew Noah. He would want to

go over it with her at least twice more before they landed. He was that

thorough. And that worried.

He hadn't voiced his thoughts, but she knew he had doubts. Not

necessarily about her abilities, just about this being the right thing to do.

She couldn't deny the uncertainties herself. She wasn't naive enough

to believe their plan would go off without a hitch. But this was the only way

she knew to ensure the safety of Jamie Kendrick, as well as finally end the

horror of what she'd lived with for so long.

If only she'd been brave enough years ago to have figured out a way to

get rid of Damon. But she hadn't, and now a woman had been tortured,

probably raped, and at the very least traumatized...all because of her own

lack of courage.

"Stop it, McKenna."

She looked up at Noah's grim face. "Stop what?"

"Stop blaming yourself for the acts of a perverted maniac. You're not

responsible."

"Hard to not blame myself. If I had faced him years ago, this woman

would never have been abducted."

"Damon Hughes is the monster. You should never have had to face

him at all."

McKenna took a breath. She'd had time to think some things over, and

though she hated to admit what she considered a major weakness, her boss

needed to know. "I've killed bad people before, Noah. Men who raped,

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murdered, tortured--done despicable things. It made me physically sick to do

it, but I knew I didn't have a choice."

"And?"

"Damon has done all those things...not only to me and my family but

to others. He deserves to die." She swallowed and admitted softly, "I just

don't think I can do it."

His brow furrowed, Noah shook his head. "It was never my intent for

you to kill him."

"But if there's anyone I should kill, it's Damon. He murdered my

family, destroyed my life." She swallowed again. "I don't want to kill him,

though."

"Why is that, do you think?"

She hated telling him this, but she needed to talk to someone.

"Because the thought of killing him terrifies me." She laughed humorlessly.

"Isn't that the craziest thing? A demon that I want to see dead more than

anyone else on this earth, but I'm so afraid of being the one to do the deed."

"That's not crazy at all. The other men you killed, you didn't do it out

of hatred or revenge. You did it to survive or save a life. It was your job. But