Last Chance (10 page)

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

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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 facade.

"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

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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 fulltime, 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 you'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

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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.

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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?"

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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,