Last Chance Hero. Melinda Di Lorenzo
The wild thoughts cut off as a snarl reached her ears. She was sure it hadn’t come from the man who held her, because he went still, then released her abruptly. Jordynn fell sideways, slamming to the grass and knocking off the hood, giving her a clear view of the strange scene unfolding in front of her. First, a flash of movement caught her eye. Then, from up the walkway—and she could almost swear the figure had come from inside her house—a distinctly human form flew toward her and her assailant. It flew straight into the man holding her, and he let out a yell as he was knocked sideways.
And now there were two men in her yard instead of one. The first was on the ground. He was short and whip-thin, his furious face angular and almost birdlike. The second was on one knee, and he was just the opposite—a bear of a man, with a square, beard-dusted jaw. He wore a ball cap pulled low, and under its edges, Jordynn could just see a curl of sandy hair. As he pushed to his feet, his muscles strained against his fitted T-shirt.
When the first intruder stood, the second one lifted his face up under the cap, and Jordynn thought there was something familiar in his gaze. And strangely, the flash of familiarity actually sent a pleasant tingle up her spine. After a second of staring at her, he dipped his hat down, obscuring his features. And for some reason, that just made her want to see more of him. It surprised her to realize it. Checking out men was low down on her to-do list. Nevertheless, there was no denying his appeal. The strength in his tense jaw. The fullness of his lips. The raw power in his physique. Even in the very dim light, she could see how attractive he was.
And in spite of the fact that Jordynn didn’t know who he was, and even though she knew she ought to be more than a little frightened about what he was doing outside her home in the first place, the all-over tingle became an unexpected—and unwanted—buzz.
She swallowed nervously.
Then he lifted his head again, the baseball hat tipping back to expose his face. He took a small step forward, and Jordynn’s breath caught in her throat. She knew why he seemed familiar. And why she felt such a strong, singular attraction to him.
The man standing in front of her looked enough like the man she loved—the man she’d lost a decade ago, today—that they could’ve been brothers. He was bigger. Way bigger. Older, too. And there was something darker and more guarded in the way he held himself than she’d ever seen from the man who’d given her the ring that she wore around her neck.
But the eyes...
Jordynn swallowed again, swaying a little on her feet. That warm, mesmerizing hazel that picked up the glow of the moon and reflected it back... She’d never seen the shade on anyone else.
But it can’t be him.
Her mind had to be playing the cruelest of tricks on her. Because the man Jordynn loved had died ten years earlier.
* * *
Jordynn Jean Flannigan.
For a minute that lasted a lifetime, Donovan Grady couldn’t do more than stare into her eyes, watching the heart-wrenching fear play through them. His guilt held him as fast as his awe.
His plan had just been to check on her from afar. To assure himself she was alive and well, but not to give her a chance to recognize him. For some reason, he hadn’t really thought about what would happen if she did. If his suspicions became fruitful—as they had—forcing him to get close and giving him no choice but to interact.
Maybe you just wanted so badly to be wrong that you didn’t consider the consequences.
Now that it had happened, the sight of her in the moonlight floored him. It sent thoughts of caution to the very back of his mind.
He waited for her to whisper his name. Or cry it out in confusion. Instead, she stood very still. Too still. Not showing a single emotion.
Maybe she doesn’t know you.
The idea cut into him.
Of course, he knew he looked a lot different than he had ten years ago. Two inches taller. Eighty pounds heavier. Hell, he hadn’t been more than nineteen when his world had changed forever. Barely a man. It wasn’t just the sudden, belated growth spurt, either. A decade away—a decade of pretending to be someone else—had changed him. Inside and out.
Still. He would’ve been able to pick her out of a crowd of a thousand. A crowd of a million. He’d held her face in his mind every night for the past decade. That didn’t mean she’d done the same. He hadn’t even wanted her to hang on to his memory.
He tore his eyes away from hers, but only succeeded in moving his gaze to the rest of her face.
Ten years had turned her from the pretty eighteen-year-old girl he remembered to a ravishing twenty-eight-year-old woman. Still naturally beautiful, still clean-scrubbed and makeup free. Still perfect. It left him tongue-tied, every part of him frozen. Except his pulse, which raced through his body with long-buried desire. From his spot just a few feet away, he just stood and appreciated the sight of her. The fiery cascade of her red, red hair and the subtle curves of her athletic build. Her sky blue eyes, and the curve of her lips—that he knew to be as soft and warm and tempting as silk—working furiously against a piece of cloth that had been jammed into her mouth.
A dirty rag. Hell.
She didn’t deserve to have it stuck between her teeth like that.
Donovan finally took a step toward her, determined to help her pull it out.
Before he could get any closer, Jordynn’s assailant smashed against his hip and dragged him back to reality. This wasn’t a romance, waiting to be rekindled. This was a life-or-death situation.
As Donovan stumbled, he didn’t have time to curse his own distractibility. He spun to the side, shook the other man off, then dropped to a low crouch and prepared for a second lunge. He didn’t have to wait long. With a wordless growl, the attacker came at him again. Donovan feinted to the left, the slammed out his right arm, knocking the smaller man to the ground. He gave the man no time to recover. He leaped forward to pin him to the ground, a knee in his chest and a forearm under his throat.
“Give it up,” he growled.
Under his elbow, the guy let out a choking laugh. In under a second, Donovan understood why. A sharp pain pierced his side.
A knife. Dammit.
He tried to no avail to get his arms around to dislodge it. The burn of the blade only increased as it dug in farther, and Donovan would have no choice but to let go if he wanted to pull it free. He couldn’t do that fast enough, either. A knee came up and slammed into him just shy of his groin. With a pain-filled grunt, he shifted out of reach. It was enough to give the assailant another temporary advantage. The smaller man dug his feet into the ground and slid up. Then he delivered a vicious kick to his chest, winding Donovan.
As he heaved in a breath, he finally did take a minute to curse himself. Stupid, to go in overconfident. Even stupider to assume the man was unarmed. Lucky, though, that it was something other than a gun.
Take what luck you can get, he told himself grimly.
He finally righted himself and reached around to yank out the blade. The wound was superficial, but it would still need attention. He knew he’d have to deal with it later. The other man had already started toward Jordynn once again, and she appeared to be fixed to the spot. Frozen in fear, maybe.
No way. No way in hell.
He tossed the knife to the ground, and as it landed with a dull thud, he wasted no time. He dived at Jordynn’s attacker’s legs. Together, they slammed to the grass, sending dirt flying.
“No more chances,” Donovan said as he came up to his knees.
He drew back his fist and smacked it into the other guy’s jaw as hard as he could. The blow sent the man sliding backward up the grass, where he groaned once, then stayed there, unmoving.
Donovan leaned down.
Thoroughly unconscious. As