Melinda Di Lorenzo - Last Chance Hero

No. Not possible. It can’t be him...

Jordynn Flannigan was sure her fiancé was dead—along with all their dreams for a future together. But the stranger who just saved her from a kidnapper is none other than Donovan Grady, who supposedly died ten years ago. Now his enemies have found Jordynn, and he’s not going anywhere without her by his side—and under his dangerously close protection...

Donovan had to disappear to save those he loved. He can’t ask for Jordynn’s forgiveness, but he can keep her safe while they unravel an insidious conspiracy. As their reignited passion proves too hot to resist, the truth strikes devastatingly close to home. And their second chance might prove the most deadly trap of all.

“If you think I’m going to keep your secret, Donovan, you’ve got another think coming.”

“If you don’t, everyone we’ve ever cared about will be in danger.”

“Let me guess. You want me to trust you about that, too.”

“Yes.”

Jordynn met his gaze with a challenging glare. “Is that your plan, then? Return from the dead, save my life, then just assume I’ll fall into place?”

“My plan is to get you out of here before it’s too late.”

Donovan slid one of his hands to her back and found her wrist, intent on just taking the phone. But at the contact, a responding heat slid to his palm. It flowed through his forearm and out, searing his heart and drawing full attention to how close together they stood. Just inches apart, in fact.

Donovan’s fingers were on the phone, its cool exterior a sharp contrast to the warmth everywhere else. But he couldn’t actually make himself take it. He couldn’t even move. A decade apart, and still Jordynn’s touch set him on fire.

* * *

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Dear Reader,

When I first came up with the idea for Last Chance Hero, I was actually envisioning a short story with a horror vibe. I pictured a woman coming home alone to find signs of an intrusion—little things that only she would know that signaled her house has been disturbed. I had the whole scenario mapped out in my head. I pictured her walking up her driveway, an ominous feeling building in her chest. The lighting would have to be perfect—dim and spooky, with just a hint of color from the moon above. And as with most scary tales, the heroine realizes a second too late that she should’ve trusted her instincts.

The imaginary opening played out in my head again and again, never feeling quite right until I realized my heroine wasn’t alone in the fight for her life. A damaged hero was waiting on the sidelines, prepared to come to her aid the moment she needed it.

The hero, of course, became Donovan Grady, damaged and needing redemption. The heroine grew into Jordynn Flannigan. And from the moment Donovan jumped in, I knew that instead of finding a ghost around the corner, Jordynn would find something far more nerve-racking—a second chance at first love.

As always, I hope my story keeps you on the edge of your seat, makes your heart race a little faster and leaves you with a smile on your face.

Melinda

Last Chance Hero

Melinda Di Lorenzo

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Amazon bestselling author MELINDA DI LORENZOwrites in her spare time—at soccer practices, when she should be doing laundry and in place of sleep. She lives on the beautiful west coast of British Columbia, Canada, with her handsome husband and her noisy kids. When she’s not writing, she can be found curled up with (someone else’s) good book.

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For all those who believe everyone deserves

a second chance.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Epilogue

Extractt from Tough Justice: Countdown (Part 1 of 8) by Carla Cassidy

Extract from Colton’s Secret Son by Carla Cassidy

Copyright

Prologue

From his spot on the hotel balcony, Corey “the Nose” Waller watched as the guy in the ball cap smiled at the courier, who handed over a slim envelope. He’d had Ball Cap under close surveillance for a week now, and the man’s unflappable politeness was making the Nose itch. Tipping coffee servers. Holding the door open for old men. Chasing after some young mother when her baby lost his shoe in a puddle and the woman didn’t notice.

“Do-gooder,” the Nose muttered, pulling the binoculars away from his face for a disgusted second.

Over twelve months of solid tracking, and he could scarcely believe this was the man who’d fooled his employers for the past decade. Someone who had—just this morning—returned a damned hundred-dollar bill to a guy who walked away from an ATM without it. But the Nose had earned his nickname well; his bloodhound abilities were rarely wrong. Everything had led him here. All he needed now was proof.

He lifted the binoculars back up. The courier was laughing at something Ball Cap had said. He gave the other man a friendly slap on the shoulder. The Nose rolled his eyes. Two minutes in and they were best friends. Awful. A whole other minute of chatting went by before the courier finally turned to go. Ball Cap, though, continued to stand in the street, holding the envelope up to the light.

“C’mon,” the Nose urged. “Open it up where I can see you do it.”

He said it partly because it would be easier to report the proof that way. But mostly, he just plain wanted to ruin Ball Cap’s day. Inject a little misery into all that kindness.

The Nose waited patiently, counting up. He only made it as far as twenty-seven before he got his wish. The other man slipped his thumb to the seal and forced the envelope open. He reached in, pulled out the thin sheet inside, then lifted his eyes. And even though the Nose knew he was too far away to be seen, he could feel Ball Cap searching him out. He made himself ignore the feeling, and continued to watch.

The other man was clearly affected by what he’d seen. Trying not to panic, maybe. His eyes flicked up and down the street. Seeing nothing, he shifted from foot to foot, tapping the envelope and its contents on his knee.

The Nose smiled to himself. That’s right. Twitch, you big suck. Go back inside and hide some more. Make your getaway plan.

Satisfied that his search had come to an end, he started to lower the binoculars. Then stopped. Ball Cap had started to move, but he didn’t turn to go back into his apartment. Instead, he took off down the street at a dead run.

“Crap.”

The Nose dug into his pocket in search of his phone. He hit speed dial one. A deep, already angry voice answered on the second ring.