For an instant, McKenna had thought she might be able to use Margret’s obvious resentment to her advantage. If the woman didn’t want her there, what better ally could she have? She quickly changed her mind when she saw the jealousy gleaming in the housekeeper’s eyes. No way in hell would Margret betray Damon.
Sleep had been nonexistent. Much of the night had been spent pacing and trying to come up with a way to get Damon to talk about Jamie. She hadn’t revealed that she knew the girl he had returned wasn’t Jamie Kendrick. She might have to at some point. For right now, she needed Damon to think all was well. Chances were, at some point, he’d let his guard down. Until then, she would continue to be the helpless, trusting McKenna he wanted.
Though she was surprised he hadn’t tried to force himself on her last night, in a way it made sense. To Damon, this was romance. He was wooing her again, as he had when they first started dating. And as long as she acted like the sweet simpleton he wanted her to be, he wouldn’t take it any further…yet. That wouldn’t last, so she needed to act as quickly as possible to figure out not only where Jamie was, but how the hell to get out of here in one piece. Was Jamie still here or had Damon sold her? Hell, was she even alive?
Since the bedroom door was locked, she hadn’t been able to snoop last night. The room was on the third floor with nothing but a steeply sloping rooftop outside her window. Trying to escape through the window would be pointless; breaking her neck would help no one.
Her only option was to gain Damon’s trust and hopefully get some freedom to snoop around.
The click of the lock told her she was being released temporarily. She turned to see Damon standing there. The adoration gleaming in his eyes made her want to run to the bathroom and throw up again. Instead she forced a glowing smile and headed to him with her arms outstretched. “Good morning, Damon.”
Damon stood at the bedroom door and allowed himself once again to revel in the happiness he felt at having McKenna back with him. Last night had been an exercise in patience. He’d gotten out of bed at least half a dozen times to come and stand outside the bedroom door, just to make sure she hadn’t somehow escaped. It had taken all of his considerable willpower not to unlock the door and show her exactly how much he’d missed her. Each time his hand had been on the door, he had reminded himself of his promise to woo her back into his arms.
As he opened his arms, allowing her to come to him, he was glad he’d waited. His McKenna was coming around already; just by allowing her this extra time, he was already reaping the rewards for his patience. Another couple of days and he’d have her exactly where he wanted her.
Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he pressed her close against him. “Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?”
She snuggled against him, but then he felt her stiffen suddenly as his hard dick pressed into her belly. Damon smiled. Yeah, let her get used to feeling it again. Eight years had passed since she’d felt something that good. He wouldn’t take her to bed yet, but it wouldn’t hurt her to know what was coming and what he could do to her anytime he wanted. Not only would she realize that he was just as virile as he had been years ago, she should be grateful he still felt this way about her. Eight years was a long time to stay horny for a woman. Damon pushed against her, giving her a good, solid rub to reinforce his message, then stepped away from her slightly.
Her smile was one of shy gratitude as she answered his earlier question. “I slept wonderfully, thank you, Damon.”
“And did it feel good to be back in your old room again?”
“Oh yes, I’m sure that’s why I slept so well.”
“Excellent.” His eyes swept over her, noting she’d put on one of the short, feminine dresses he’d purchased for her. Many of them were identical to the dresses she had worn years ago. The one she had chosen today wasn’t one of his favorites since it covered her more than most of the others, but since he had provided it for her, he decided he couldn’t complain.
“Are you ready for breakfast?”
One of the many things he knew about McKenna was her enjoyment of food. Though her excessive appetite had always disgusted him a bit, he indulged her since she never appeared to gain weight. If it ever came to the point that her body showed signs of overindulgence, that would change in an instant. Having her change the least little bit wasn’t something he would tolerate. Which brought him to a concern he hadn’t addressed yet.
“You’ve cut your hair.”
Her eyes widened as if she was startled by the difference in his tone. He refused to soften the statement, though. She needed to realize that making any kind of change to her appearance without consulting him wasn’t something he would allow.
Giving him a tentative look, she admitted, “Just a bit.”
“Don’t do that again. I want you to let it grow to just above your ass like it was before. Understand?”
“Yes, Damon. I’m sorry I had it cut.”
Her apology pleased him so much, his erection grew harder. Knowing that if he didn’t get her out of the room soon he’d throw her on the bed and screw her senseless, he held out his hand. “Come. Let’s go down to breakfast, then I’ll give you a brief tour of your new home.”
Looking both relieved that he’d allowed her some slack about her hair and grateful for his patience, she put her hand in his and followed him out the door.
Yes, he was playing this as he should. Very soon she’d be filled with awe over the grandness of his mansion and his wealth. With his good looks, abundance of money, and obvious adoration, McKenna would soon realize she was one of the most fortunate women in the world. Any woman would be grateful, but a farm girl from Nebraska with nothing going for her but a pretty smile and a nice ass? Yes, McKenna was damn lucky he loved her. And very soon he intended to show her just how grateful she should be.
Standing at his mirror, Damon admired how the new tailored shirt emphasized his broad shoulders and the way the trousers called attention to his long, muscular legs. During the tour of his mansion this morning, he’d seen McKenna stealing a glance at his physique more than once. The attraction was most definitely still there.
At the knock on the door, he turned from his reflection. “Come.”
Elliott entered; Damon eyed him closely. The man’s usual ruddy complexion was almost pale. He looked like something had scared the shit out of him. His massive neck jerked as his throat moved convulsively, but he still didn’t speak.
“Well, what is it?” Damon snapped.
“I just got an email….” He trailed off to look down at the small device in his hand.
Somewhat surprised that Elliott’s hand seemed to be shaking, since the man was usually devoid of emotion, Damon said, “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a picture you need to see.”
Afraid of nothing, especially a fucking email, Damon grabbed the iPhone from the man’s hand and looked down at the screen. It was a picture of a man and woman standing on a sidewalk, holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes. Even without reading the caption, he knew who they were. He’d seen photos of Lucas Kane. The man was almost as famous as a rock star. And the woman—he knew her, too. It was McKenna. His McKenna. Her hair was even shorter than it was now and seemed much lighter, almost white. But he’d recognize that face anywhere.
When had this been taken? And what was Lucas Kane doing with his woman?
The caption below the photograph hinted of a relationship. Perhaps a secret romance. McKenna had been with Lucas Kane? Impossible. The man had a whole harem of women he dated. No way had his McKenna been one of his many followers.
“There has to be some mistake.” He glared at Elliott. “Where did this come from?”
“Maury, one of our investigators. It was in the gossip column of the local newspaper this morning.”
“Leave me.”
“Do you want—”
“I said get out. Now!”
Elliott moved as fast as his big body would allow, closing the door beh
ind him.
Damon took one more look at McKenna’s betrayal and then with a roar threw the iPhone at the mirror. The fracture in the glass matched the crack in his heart. Both McKenna and Lucas Kane would pay for this.
He hadn’t asked her if there had been other men in her life. Hadn’t believed there was a need. Long ago, he’d told her what would happen to anyone she became close to. If he’d killed her fucking neighbor, just what the hell did she think he would do to a man who’d been between her legs? A place no man but Damon belonged?
Why would Lucas Kane even be interested in McKenna? Yes, she was beautiful to Damon, but that was because he loved her. The scars on her body aroused him, but only because he had put them there; they were marks of his love, his devotion. Lucas Kane should have been repelled. Besides, though he adored McKenna’s sweet innocence and slight dim-wittedness, why would a powerful, wealthy man be attracted to her? She should be a nonentity to other men; to Damon, she was everything.
Something didn’t add up. Either way, Lucas Kane was a dead man.
The bastard might be one of the wealthiest men in the world, but he didn’t have the contacts or the drive Damon did. The man had inherited his wealth; Damon had earned every penny and had killed more than a few to get what he had. He would use every bit of that wealth to get Lucas Kane.
Breathing in and out several times to control the rage, Damon began to plan. He would have Kane brought here. As the plan took on substance, the familiar anticipation swept through him. He’d killed many people but had only enjoyed a few. The kills he enjoyed, though, had brought him a rush he’d never experienced from anything else, except disciplining McKenna.
Lucas Kane was famous, wealthy, and powerful. Killing him would be a rush of monumental proportions.
Taking his cellphone from his pocket, he hit the number for one of his investigators. Once Kane was secured and brought here, McKenna would receive a lesson in obedience and faithfulness she would never forget; Lucas Kane would be his weapon.
nineteen
Her steps silent, McKenna began her own tour of the mansion. After breakfast, Damon had given her a cursory tour, pointing out what he was obviously most proud of, which included a massive gym, Olympic-sized swimming pool, and some sort of art collection in the giant courtyard that seemed to be mostly of naked women with big breasts. She’d oohed and ahhed, smiled and lied until her jaws ached. Ostentatious and pretentious were two apt descriptions for Damon’s home. Ugly as hell would be another.
After the tour, he’d suggested she put on her swimsuit and take a dip in the pool he told her he’d had built especially for her. Grinding out one last grateful smile had hurt, but she’d managed it. Then, thankfully, he’d left her with a kiss on her forehead and a warning not to get too much sun.
Over breakfast, she’d heard him tell Margret that he had to leave the compound for a while. His statement had given her a much-needed lift. Staying in character as the sweet, clueless, and ever so grateful McKenna was exhausting. The freak was buying her act but having a reprieve for a few hours away from him was a huge relief. Not only could she stop with the fake sweetness for a while, she now had the chance to explore on her own. If she was caught by anyone, she would merely explain that she was just becoming more acquainted with her new home.
An hour later, she had drawn two conclusions. First and foremost was that Jamie was not inside the mansion. She’d been through every single room. Surprisingly, no door was locked, but since there didn’t seem to be anything to hide, perhaps she shouldn’t be surprised. And though Damon had only given her a quick tour of the grounds, McKenna doubted Jamie was anywhere on the estate.
The second conclusion was that Damon Hughes had a hell of a lot of money coming from somewhere. When she’d first met him, he had worked as a mechanic at a garage in town. Where he’d gotten his wealth she could only speculate, but she was quite sure none of his activities were legal.
Taking a breath, McKenna eased the door open to a room she’d made a quick search of a few minutes before. Damon’s office. This was one place where it would be difficult to explain her presence. That couldn’t be helped; she had to take the risk. There were no landline phones in the house. Everyone used cellphones and she hadn’t yet found one she could steal.
Noah and his team were probably going crazy, not knowing where she was. If nothing else, she needed to find a computer so she could email him. If she got caught, she got caught. Damon wouldn’t kill her, although it was the only thing she was sure he wouldn’t do. Just about anything else was still possible.
Until she found Jamie’s whereabouts, she needed to stay healthy. Once she found her, she’d turn the tables on Damon. He didn’t yet know that she could kick his pampered ass and those of just about all of his employees. She looked forward to the opportunity to show him what she could do.
Damon’s office was as gigantic, cavernous, and pretentious as the rest of his mansion. In the middle of the room was a giant oak desk with almost nothing on it other than a laptop and a large dictionary. For some reason, the image of Damon looking up a word like a regular person was amusing.
The desk drawers opened easily and revealed nothing more than ordinary office equipment, although the silver-plated letter opener was too enticing not to grab. She looked down at her clothes, cursing the silly, feminine dress. In the closet of clothes Damon had provided were only dresses—short, revealing, and completely lacking in places to hide a weapon. Deciding she’d have to come back for it, McKenna returned it to the drawer. If she was caught with it, there was no way in hell she could come up with a reasonable explanation.
She sat down at the desk and opened the laptop, relieved to see that he did have a wireless connection. Quickly accessing one of her email accounts, she typed a message to Noah:
I’m fine. Still looking for the girl. Don’t believe she’s here. Don’t know where I am. Hear the ocean. See palm trees and tropical flowers. We traveled south for about an hour in the helicopter. Believe I’m still in Florida. Will contact you ASAP.
She stared at the screen for several more seconds. What else could she say that would help them? Shaking her head, she added: Don’t worry. She hit send.
Damon’s desk was so neat, his records were probably on the laptop. They were sure to be password-protected, but she had to try anyway. She pulled up a list of documents and clicked on one captioned “Merchandise.” The password screen came on. Taking a chance, she typed in “McKenna.” The error screen came up. Dammit. What did a narcissistic psycho use as a password? She typed in several random words but still came up empty.
Blowing out a frustrated curse, McKenna exited the program and closed the laptop. Damon might be coming back soon; she’d have to return when she had more time. Before leaving, she used up precious minutes walking every inch of the office, pressing on walls and pulling books from shelves, hoping for a hidden door to open and reveal some secrets. Disgusted, she gave up. If there was anything here, it was well concealed.
Opening the door as quietly as possible, McKenna crept out of the office and closed the door behind her. She turned and swallowed a scream. Damon stood in the hallway. He had seen her walk out of his office.
Looking only mildly curious, he asked, “What are you doing, my love?”
She had no answers for him, so she went with her sweetly innocent smile. “Just looking around.”
“Looking around for what?”
She shrugged, offered an embarrassed little laugh. “I still know so little about you. It’s been almost nine years since we were together. All you’ve told me about yourself is that you have diverse interests in a lot of different things.”
“And you thought you’d be able to figure it out all by yourself just by looking through my office?”
Swallowing a snarl at his obnoxious superiority, she went with what usually worked for him. “I’m sorry, Damon. I was just curious.”
“Come here.”
Reminding herself that he might bring her pa
in but he wouldn’t kill her, she went to him. She’d dealt with pain before; she could deal with it again. Still, her movements were jerkier than she would have liked.
He took her hand in his. “What is it you wish to know, my love?”
“Everything, Damon. When we were together before, you weren’t rich. But in a relatively short period of time, you’ve been able to amass a fortune?”
He pulled her hard against him and spoke against her mouth. “How I earn my money is really none of your business, is it?”
“I just thought—”
“Don’t think, McKenna. You’ll get wrinkles and I’ll have to throw a sheet over your head to fuck you.”
She said nothing, kept her face expressionless. He was getting meaner now. She could see it in his eyes. Was it because he’d caught her snooping? Or was this just a natural progression for a sadistic murderer?
Either way, she needed to soothe his ire. Having him suspect her of anything would get her nowhere. She lowered her head and whispered humbly, “Please forgive me.”
He was silent for several seconds; she could feel his eyes scrutinizing her. Would he buy her act? McKenna didn’t dare raise her head. She’d done that once without his permission and had ended up on the floor with a bloodied nose.
“Look at me.”
Her head popped up obediently.
“Do not for a moment think I will forget this. However, since this is your first day here, I’ll forgive your little indiscretion.” He tightened his grip on her arm until she winced. “You won’t be snooping again. Will you, McKenna?”
“No, Damon. I won’t.”
He smiled at her, but it wasn’t the condescending indulgent one from this morning. There was cruelty there. “Come. We’ll have cocktails by the pool. Then I really think you need to take that swim I suggested to you this morning. You’re looking a bit pale, not nearly as attractive as I prefer in my women. Then perhaps a nap before dinner.” His smile grew broader, his anger apparently over for now. “We have an exciting week ahead of us. You’re going to need all of your energy.”
Last Chance Page 22