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Authors: Christy Reece

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She looked up at him for several long seconds, and Lucas was

beginning to think that had been the wrong thing to say after all. Finally,

with one of the most vulnerable expressions he'd ever seen on her face, she

whispered, "I shouldn't have come."

"Why did you?"

"I don't know."

"If I invite you in, will that make you more nervous?"

She gave a small little laugh. "I don't know that I can get any more

nervous, so I guess the answer is no."

"So you'll come in?"

"Yes...for a little while."

Holding out his hand again, Lucas led her down a brick sidewalk to

the back patio of his home. So odd to be holding her hand again. He'd never

been a hand holder, had actually thought it a somewhat odd custom. Now,

with the feel of her delicate hand in his, it conveyed something. Trust,

friendship...a need to be close.

He opened the back door and pulled her inside. She stopped abruptly

and looked around.

"Oh...wow."

Again, Lucas tried to see through her eyes. One of three living rooms

in the house, it held four sofas, several chairs, two tables, and a grand piano.

Expensive Persian rugs covered the hardwood floors; bright chandeliers

hung with regal splendor from the sixteen-foot ceilings. To him it was a

room he went through to get to the side patio. He rarely came into the room

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for any other reason.

"Mr. Lucas, do you or your guest need anything?"

Lucas swallowed a chuckle.
Conrad
. No matter where the man was in

the house, he somehow always knew what was going on.

"McKenna, I'd like for you to meet Conrad. He's been with my family

for years."

McKenna stuck her hand out. "Nice to meet you, sir."

Conrad didn't blink an eye as he shook McKenna's hand and returned

the greeting. He looked at Lucas again, and though the man's stoic

expression was often impossible to read, Lucas saw a spark of approval in

his eyes.

"Think the kitchen can put together a tea for us?" Lucas asked.

"Perhaps in the north parlor."

"I'm sure we can arrange that." With another nod to McKenna, Conrad

walked in his usual silent way out of the room.

Thinking to use McKenna's healthy appetite to his advantage, he'd

ordered the tea before he asked her. But since politeness was written in the

DNA of his family, he asked, "Are you hungry?"

And as before, she couldn't give a verbal answer before her stomach

growled. "Seems like you're always feeding me."

Telling her that watching her eat turned him on might be the truthful

response, but damned if he'd say anything to scare her off. He could barely

believe she was here. It was a challenge to avoid any verbal trip wires. If

nothing else, this woman definitely kept him on his toes.

"Let's go to the parlor and get comfortable."

Her heart pounding with a dozen different emotions, McKenna

followed Lucas as he entered a giant marble foyer; she swallowed another

gasp. The house she grew up in would have fit in the foyer, with room to

spare.

Gawking was rude and she tried her best not to do it, but Lucas's

home made her realize just how out of reach he was. Their differences

probably should have made her feel awkward, and in a way they did. But she

also felt relief. Lucas wouldn't be interested in someone like her. Humble

background notwithstanding, their worlds were on different spheres, which

made him even safer. She would stay for a quick visit and then be gone. He

need never know that her heart was thumping so loudly in her chest, she

feared he would hear it. Or that in the deepest recesses of her mind, the only

place she allowed unrealistic fantasies to exist, he was the man of her

dreams.

Lucas led her into a small, cozy room with a sofa, two chairs, a table,

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and a roaring fire. She could imagine him coming in here after a long day at

the office, putting his feet up, sipping a brandy, and staring into the fire. Her

imagination went further than it should have when she pictured herself

sitting in a chair beside him, holding his hand and gazing at the fire, too.

Such a stupid dreamer, McKenna
.

"Have a seat."

Lucas's voice jerked her out of her idiotic fantasy. She dropped into

the closest chair. Nerves were attacking her limbs, and she needed to get

control of herself before she either ran from the room or kissed him again.

"Are you here on a job?"

She shrugged. "Not really. Just had some free time on my hands."

"I'm glad you came."

"Me too." She didn't add that she hoped she didn't regret it.

The silence that followed should have been awkward but it wasn't.

There was peace in being here--a dangerous peace, because she couldn't

stay. The longer she was here, the longer she would want to stay. She would

enjoy the meal with him and then leave.

A distant sound drew her attention. She looked up to see Conrad open

the door and push in a tea trolley laden with enough food for a half dozen

people. Apparently Lucas had somehow shared the information that she had

the appetite of a teenage boy.

"Thanks, Conrad," Lucas said with a smile. "I'll take it from here."

"Very good, sir." He went through the door, closing it behind him and

leaving Lucas and McKenna alone again.

A delightful fragrance wafted through the air and her stomach

growled in welcome.

Lucas smiled and said, "Let's eat."

Oh man, this was a full-fledged meal and looked delicious. McKenna

had never been shy about food before and she wasn't about to start now. She

dove in, prepared to enjoy every bite.

Lucas couldn't eat. Hard as hell to eat when one was as hard as hell.

McKenna ate with the same gusto as she had before. And once again it

turned him on.

She looked up at him, gray-blue eyes wide and guileless as a doe's.

"Aren't you hungry?"

Oh, the answer he would love to give her, but she would run and he'd

do just about anything to keep that from happening. So he shook his head

and said, "Had a large lunch."

With a small grin, she looked only slightly embarrassed as she said, "I

did, too."

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He smothered a laugh; he loved her honesty. Hoping she wouldn't

mind talking while she ate, he asked something that had been on his mind

since they first met. "When we were together in Paris, you said you'd

worked undercover before and helped some people escape from Victor. How

did you get in with Victor in the first place?"

She swallowed a bite of turkey and answered, "Coincidence, mostly. I

saw him carry an unconscious man into a house. That was odd enough; I

knew something was up. So I followed him around for a few days. Talked to

him in a bar he liked to hang out at...got to know him. Victor was careless

about stuff like that. He hired local people and didn't check them out

thoroughly. I lucked out when he asked me to work for him without needing

to know me better."

"How many jobs did you do with him?"

"Four or five."

"And those you helped escape...he never caught on?"

Her eyes took on that faraway expression, and Lucas suddenly

realized how she'd kept Victor from catching on. "You slept with him." The

words came out before he could stop them.

She got to her feet. "I think I'd better go. It's getting late."

"McKenna..." Hell, what could he say? The fact that she'd had to lie

under the sweaty, barbaric body of Victor Lymes sickened him to the point

of nausea. But to know she'd done something like that to save a life? Hell,

there was courage and then there was courage. McKenna's kind of courage

wasn't black and white, nor was it pretty. She had done things she wasn't

proud of and hadn't wanted to do. But she'd done those things to save lives.

"Thanks for the tea...I'll--"

He caught her by the upper arm before she could turn away. "No.

You're not running away when things get uncomfortable."

Whirling, she shot her fist toward his face. He caught it with his hand

and brought it to his mouth.

She looked stunned. He didn't know if it was for the kiss or the fact

that he could move faster than she could.

"I can't believe I almost hit you."

Ah, another reason. She was surprised at her anger toward him.

"Anger and passion have much in common."

Turning away again, she avoided his gaze and said, "So you don't

think I'm a slut for sleeping with Victor?"

Suddenly angry himself, Lucas pulled her around to face him. "Do not

put that word and your name together...ever. I think you're incredibly brave."

"I'm scared most of the time."

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"That just means you're smart. Being scared keeps you alive."

"Were you scared when Victor kidnapped you?"

"I think I was too furious to be frightened. I'm sure if you had been the

crazed lunatic you pretended to be and managed to cut off my fingers, I

would've changed my attitude."

Instead of smiling at his teasing words, she whispered, "You need to

be careful. There are more people like Victor out there than you might

think."

Hoping he wasn't making a mistake, Lucas drew her into his arms.

She didn't resist as he had feared. Instead she leaned her head on his

shoulder as if it belonged there.

"I promise to be careful, but will you promise me something in

return?"

She tilted her head to look up at him. "What?"

"You'll be careful, too?"

"Always."

"Good."

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her mouth. Her gasping

sigh was captured and treasured as he slowly and carefully showed her what

she was coming to mean to him. She moved more fully into his arms, her

fingers weaving into his hair as she pressed deeper into the kiss. His body

demanded that he take things further; his conscience and brain told him

something different. If he pushed, she would run. He couldn't take the

chance.

With a regret-filled sigh, Lucas lifted his head from her sweet lips.

Her eyes had been closed. She opened them and, just for an instant, he saw

what he longed to see. McKenna was beginning to feel the same things.

Damned if he'd scare her away.

"Want to take a walk?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Good. Then we'll watch a movie in the theater room. I have a

popcorn popper I've never even tried out."

Not giving her time to answer, Lucas took her hand and pulled her

with him. If she had time to think, she would leave. He knew she would at

some point, but he wanted to delay the inevitable as long as possible. There

was no trickery involved in trying to keep her. She could say she was

leaving and he wouldn't try to stop her. But he was beginning to see that

McKenna's need was almost as strong as his own. There was something

between them, but he knew damn well she would deny it. Until the day came

that she accepted and acknowledged that, he would do his best to create a

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sense of safety for her. If she felt she could come to him at any time, chances

were that at some point she would begin to trust him with everything.

And when that day came, he would get her to tell him what she was so

terrified of, and he would do everything within his power to eliminate the

threat.

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Eight

Palm Beach

Terror and fury gleamed in her eyes as she stared up at him. Tears

poured down her face, and his heart ached for her. If her hands weren't tied

to her chair, Damon knew, she would be clutching her throat. That always

seemed to be the first place people touched when given the drug.

Damon pulled up a chair to sit across from her. "Don't be afraid that

you can't speak. While you were sleeping, I gave you an injection. Your

vocal cords have been disabled for a few hours. I have several business

associates in the medical profession. One of them supplied me with the drug.

Quite a breakthrough, really, since it doesn't impair breathing. Though it is

quite expensive." He gently caressed her arm. "But when it comes to you, I

spared no expense." When tears continued to well in her eyes, he said,

"Don't worry, baby, it's not permanent."

And just like most people, she opened her mouth to speak anyway.

When no sound emerged, she sobbed silently and the tears fell harder.

"Now, darling McKenna, I know you have things you want to say to

me, but I felt it necessary to get a few of the most important things out of the

way first. You have the ability to nod your head to tell me you understand."

More anger emerged through her tears. He had expected that. His

McKenna was a fighter. One of the reasons he loved her was the incredible

spirit she had within her. But that spirit needed to be contained, then shaped

and molded. Otherwise their relationship would not succeed. Damon had

worked too hard, waited too long, to fail. This time she would succumb,

become what he needed her to be. It would just take some time.

"Acknowledge what I told you with a nod, McKenna."

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