Last Chance

by Christy Reece

  Except for Lucas.

  Lucas Kane was the first man in years to stir that kind of emotion in her. Sure, there had been men she’d found attractive. Gabe Maddox had caused a flutter of her heart every now and then, and Dylan Savage would be somewhat amused to know she’d found him attractive, too. Finding a man physically attractive was light-years away from what she felt for Lucas.

  There was nothing about Lucas that she didn’t find appealing. Not only his looks but his commitment to making the world a better place. It might sound trite unless you put something behind the words. Lucas did that. How could she not admire a man who had every opportunity to be a spoiled, careless playboy but chose to do something good and worthwhile with his fortune?

  Dressed now, she took a deep breath, knowing she needed to face some facts. There was another man she admired, and she had let him down mightily. Noah McCall was one of the few people she trusted in this world. She pulled her cellphone from her purse. Now she needed to check to see if he still trusted her.

  She had one voice mail message…from Noah. McKenna pressed the key to retrieve it, refusing to back away or flinch as she waited to hear McCall’s hard, grim voice telling her she’d never work for him again.

  Holding her breath, McKenna listened intently: “Call me.”

  Noah wasn’t much on long messages or conversations, so she wasn’t really surprised at the brevity. However, he didn’t sound pissed, so that was a plus.

  Speed-dialing his number, she waited, her heart a dull thud of dread.

  “’Bout damn time you called in,” McCall’s gruff voice answered.

  “Been busy.”

  “You up for a job?”

  Her heart leaped. Maybe she hadn’t totally screwed everything up. “Yes.”

  “Good. Come here first.” He ended the call.

  This wasn’t the first time he’d asked her to come to LCR headquarters before he offered her an assignment. But it was the first time he’d asked her after she’d majorly screwed up the last one. His voice sounded as though nothing had happened. No way Dylan hadn’t told him. Not only would he have to file a report, something Noah required on all ops, but it would be totally unprofessional of him not to give Noah full details.

  Despite the fact that she hated for Noah to know what had happened, she’d be royally pissed if Dylan hadn’t told him.

  No, she was sure McCall knew. Question was, what would happen when she arrived in Paris? Noah had asked if she wanted a job, but doubt kicked in again. Would she be booted out after all?

  There was only one way to find out. Gathering her few belongings together, she headed out the door.

  McKenna stood at the entrance to Noah’s office. She told herself that life wouldn’t be over if he no longer wanted her to work with LCR. After all, she had rescued a couple of people before she came across the operation that led her to working with LCR. She could do that again. But she couldn’t deny that it would be a huge blow. Working ops with LCR was the first time she’d been a part of something…part of a team. By necessity, she was alone in all other areas of her life; this had been one area where she’d felt she belonged to something larger. Now, because of her weakness, that might be lost.

  Spine straight, shoulders back, McKenna opened the office door, determined to weather whatever was to come. She stumbled to a halt when she saw who sat behind Noah’s desk: Samara McCall, Noah’s wife. Oh shit.

  Samara stood and came toward her, her beautiful smile both welcoming and compassionate. “McKenna, it’s good to see you.”

  McKenna stiffened her spine even more. Noah had played this well…he’d brought out the big guns. She could be belligerent and sarcastic with McCall. He’d just shoot it right back at her. She couldn’t do that to Samara. Not only was Noah’s wife a genuinely nice person, but McKenna felt that if her life had been different, she and Samara could have been good friends.

  McKenna said somewhat stiffly, “Where’s Noah?”

  “He’s at home with Micah.” She wrinkled her nose in a humorous grimace. “There was some sort of monster truck marathon on television. Apparently it’s a guy thing.”

  And McKenna would like nothing better than to be watching mindless television with them, instead of being in a meeting with Samara. Not because she liked big trucks, but because Samara could see through her. Noah might be able to see through her, too, but she could tell him to fuck off and he’d grin. With Samara, she couldn’t wear her façade.

  “Come in and sit. I just made some hot chocolate.” She headed to the small kitchenette against the wall. “It’s instant, but still pretty good.”

  McKenna slumped down in a chair across from the giant cherry desk. Dammit, she didn’t want to be nice to the woman. Why couldn’t it be Eden or even Shea? They were two female LCR operatives she could be a bitch with and they’d give it right back.

  A mug of steaming chocolate topped with whipped cream appeared before her. McKenna took the offering, more for warmth and comfort than anything else. She didn’t have to question why Samara wanted to see her. She was a former social worker and was in charge of LCR counseling. Social worker. Those two words caused a deep churning in her stomach. McKenna’s one experience with a social worker had been hellacious. Somehow, though, she almost wished to have that bitch in front of her instead of the lovely and compassionate woman now sitting across from her.

  “McKenna, relax. I’m not going to bite you.”

  Knowing she had no choice but to suck it up and get this over with, she said, “I’m assuming Dylan told Noah about the meltdown I had the other day. Now you’re here to try to figure out just how screwed up I am.”

  “Dylan did tell Noah…you knew he’d have to. And you’re not any more screwed up than any other LCR operative.”

  A smile attacked her lips before she knew it. Samara’s straightforward way was something she’d always enjoyed. She called it like she saw it, but always in the kindest way possible.

  “So what’s the drill?” McKenna asked.

  “We talk.”

  “About what?”

  “Anything you like.”

  “And after we have our talk, do you decide whether or not I work with LCR again?”

  “Good heavens, no. I have no control over whom LCR hires or fires. If I did, I’d get rid of anyone who’s ever looked at my husband in the wrong way, which would be just about everyone on board.” A chagrined grin. “I have a tendency to be overprotective.”

  Since Noah McCall was six-four and more than two hundred pounds of arrogance and cold-minded reasoning, the thought of tiny Samara being his protector should have been laughable, but it wasn’t. The love shining in her aqua blue eyes said it all. Noah’s wife might be small in stature, but her love and devotion to her husband were a mighty force.

  “Okay, so what happens after we talk?”

  “The same thing that would happen if you walked out of here right now without talking to me. Noah will ask you once again if you’d like to come on board full-time with LCR.”

  I will not cry. I will not cry. And she didn’t. But she did look away from those compassionate, perceptive eyes and swallowed a giant lump in her throat. Noah had asked her previously if she’d like to work for LCR full-time, but that had been after a successful operation. One where she’d behaved the way she should and had actually helped. No one in his right mind could term the op she’d handled the other day as successful. Sure, the women had been rescued, but that was due to Dylan’s professionalism and skill. If she’d been the only one on the op, she’d be either dead or in captivity along with the young girls she’d failed to save.

  Still looking for a catch, McKenna asked, “Does being an LCR operative mean I have to go through a psych evaluation or something? Is that why he wants me on?”

  “LCR doesn’t do psych evals. I talk to new recruits when they come in; I also talk to LCR operatives when they need to talk. Other than that, I don’t get involved.”

  It couldn’t be that easy. “So y
ou’re saying if I just get up and walk out of here, Noah will call me later and still tell me he wants me as an operative?”

  “Yes. Want to try it?”

  McKenna drew in a breath. “Then why the hell am I here with you?”

  “Because you need to talk and I’m a good listener.”

  “And then you go tell Noah?”

  Samara shook her head. The kindness in her eyes almost undid McKenna. Having people be nice to her was so damned difficult. Not only because it was rare, but because she wanted to be nice back. Shit.

  “Noah doesn’t hear anything from me. I’m here to support LCR operatives, not spy on them or rat them out to my husband.”

  “So anything I say to you stays with you?”

  “With one caveat. If you, for instance, told me you planned to kill someone, I would have to consider telling someone else.”

  Testing her, McKenna leaned forward and asked softly, “And what if I told you that at some point I do plan to kill someone?”

  Without blinking an eye, Samara asked, “Does he deserve it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he killed my family.”

  “Why isn’t he in prison?”

  “He escaped.”

  She was surprised when a faraway look came into Samara’s eyes. After several seconds, she refocused on McKenna and said, “If it comes down to you and him, would you allow LCR to assist you?”

  For some reason, Samara understood where she was coming from. How or why, McKenna didn’t know. This woman didn’t look like she could have a vindictive bone in her body, but she saw something in the other woman’s expression that said she understood exactly how McKenna felt.

  Something shifted inside McKenna. An easing, a lessening of a giant burden. “Maybe…I don’t know.”

  “Can you talk about it?” Samara asked.

  Could she? She hadn’t spoken of that devastating day in years. And when she had, so few had believed it happened the way it did. Though she knew she had been responsible for bringing the devil into her home, what he had done was something she would have died to prevent. Would Samara be any different from the others?

  How odd that twice in the last few days she was considering telling someone else her story. During that wonderfully comfortable night with Lucas, she had thought several times about sharing her deepest secrets but couldn’t do it. Even the slightest flicker of disapproval in Lucas’s eyes would have been devastating. Knowing his opinion meant that much to her scared the hell out of her.

  Taking a plunge she never thought she’d willingly take, she asked, “What happens if I tell you?”

  “Same thing that happens if you don’t.”

  McKenna believed her. There was no hidden agenda, no subterfuge, and, most important, no judgment. And because of that, McKenna opened her mouth and began to speak of the day her world collapsed on top of her.

  six

  London

  Lucas swung a right cut and connected to the hard jaw of his opponent. He followed with a quick full-body twist, and then side-kicked the man’s broad chest. The man stumbled, stayed on his feet, and responded with a series of quick, hard jabs. Lucas blocked each one until the man backed slightly away, whirled, and kicked, aiming at Lucas’s head. A second before impact, Lucas grabbed the size-twelve foot and twisted, throwing the man to the floor.

  Standing over his opponent, Lucas grinned. “Getting slow in your old age.”

  Jared Livingston grimaced up at him. “Somebody must’ve pissed you off today. Last time you knocked me on my ass was the day your favorite rugby team lost the championship.”

  Backing up, Lucas held out a hand to his friend to help him up. “Now that day I was mad. Today I’m just frustrated.”

  “The blond ghost again?”

  There were few things Jared didn’t know about him. Learning he’d fallen for a beautiful, blond ghost had probably surprised his friend more than just about anything.

  “Actually, no. I fired Humphries today. Felt like shit but had no choice.”

  Jared grabbed a towel and threw it at Lucas. Then, grabbing one for himself, he wiped his face and torso. “Glad you finally called him on it, since we’ve suspected him for a while. What made you finally do it?”

  Lucas shrugged. “Last deal he brought in. Bought and sold at a different price than he reported, took the extra for his own.”

  “And I already know you didn’t press charges.”

  Lucas took two water bottles from a shelf and tossed one to Jared. “Man looked miserable enough. Didn’t see the need to compound it.”

  “You know, if all your employees start screwing you over, you won’t have the companies to employ them.”

  “Hell, Jared, he’s worked for Kane Industries for thirty-five years. The man’s sixty-three years old, with four grandchildren.”

  “So what’d you do, give him an early pension and that’s it?”

  Lucas shrugged back into his shirt. Jared understood him better than just about anyone. They had served in IDC together. Though Jared was from the United States, International Deep Cover was a global agency with fifteen different countries participating. Since the goal of IDC involved preventing terrorism worldwide, borders weren’t an issue for the organization.

  After Jared left the service, he hadn’t returned home to the States because he’d fallen in love with a young woman from England. Since he had no family in the States, he’d made England his home.

  Jared had been the first person Lucas hired to work at Kane Enterprises. When you’ve been in the trenches with a man, saved his life and he yours, you learn a hell of a lot about his character. Jared was now Kane Enterprises’ main investigator.

  Slugging down the water in one long swallow, Lucas threw the empty bottle into the recycling bin. “Over his career, Humphries probably made the company a thousand times more than what he stole. He apparently got into online gambling, lost most of his savings, and didn’t know how to tell his wife that the comfortable retirement they’d been planning was gone.”

  “So you gave it back to him?”

  “I couldn’t let him destroy his family.”

  Jared snorted and shook his head but didn’t try to argue with him. When Lucas made a decision, he wasn’t one to change his mind. Jared knew any argument would be pointless.

  Lucas headed up the stairs, knowing his friend would follow. They practiced beating the shit out of each other four times a week. Only recently had it morphed into dinner afterward. Ordinarily when Lucas whipped up this much adrenaline, he had a woman waiting to take the edge off. Since he’d returned from his abduction, that had changed. Since Jared’s wife, Lara, was an emergency room doctor in the largest hospital in London and worked nights, Lucas told himself it was a kindness to invite his friend for dinner.

  A troubling thing about Jared was that he had an uncanny ability to read Lucas’s mind, so he wasn’t surprised when the question came. “So when are you going after her?”

  Lucas nodded his thanks to Conrad, his butler, who, formal as ever, pulled out a chair at the dining table for him.

  After taking a sip of his favorite cabernet, he answered, “I’m not.”

  Jared pulled out his own chair before Conrad could get to him, causing poor Conrad to look insulted and Jared to grin. He looked at Lucas as his words registered. “What do you mean, you don’t plan to go after her?”

  “Just that. Next move is hers.”

  He hadn’t told Jared anything other than he’d seen her again. What he and McKenna had shared was between them. But he could understand Jared’s surprise. Lucas wasn’t one to sit back and wait.

  Ignoring the concerned look on his friend’s face, Lucas dove into his meal. Just because he sounded calm and sure that McKenna had to make the next move didn’t mean he liked it or was even sure she’d come to him. She was teaching him patience. If he had pressured her or continued his pursuit, she would disappear and he’d have to start looking all over aga
in. He hadn’t found her the first time; she’d come to him. And he hoped she would again. Waiting might not be comfortable, but he damn well couldn’t risk spooking her and having her run from him again.

  That one kiss had almost blown his head off and destroyed his plan. More than anything, he’d wanted to pull her back into his suite and show her how good they could be together. If he had, she might have stayed for a while, even let him make love to her. But he’d seen the look in her eyes. She wasn’t ready for what he wanted from her. Until she was, he’d pursue her from another country.

  Some people might call him either delusional or overly optimistic. Lucas knew it was sheer determination and nothing more. They had something. He recognized it; at some point, McKenna would, too. He just hoped it didn’t take her too much longer to realize it.

  McKenna waited for Noah to arrive. She felt emptied out, almost clean. She’d poured her guts out for an hour. Samara had listened and nodded occasionally, and never once did McKenna see judgment. Compassion hadn’t been a part of McKenna’s life in years. Hell, after what she’d caused, she had never felt she deserved it. But she had wanted justice, not for herself but for her family. That had been denied her.

  Now Noah was due in to talk with her. She trusted Samara not to tell him about her past. But McKenna had already made the decision to tell him herself. If she came on permanently as an LCR operative, he deserved to know her damage. She knew enough about LCR operatives to have seen that most of them were wounded in some way. Having experienced hell gave extra incentive to rescue those who were in the midst of their own.

  She stood and turned when McCall came through the door. Since Samara had only left a few moments before, she doubted they’d had much of a conversation. Would he be surprised she had changed her mind? Probably not. Noah McCall saw more than most people—more than most people were comfortable with, too.