Unquenchable Cravings: Last Chance on Love: Hard to Catch Series, #2

By Natasza Waters

Sizzling romantic comedy.

Mandy McPhearson vividly remembers the mischievous prank Dane Porter played at her best friend's wedding. A year later, the searing kiss still sizzles when she disembarks the corporate jet, and the strikingly handsome, single father of two is waiting. If the sexy, blue-eyed, billionaire playboy thinks she's here for him, he's dead wrong. Besides, her dog-eared dating card is filled with losers, and Dane doesn't fit the mold.

 

Months have passed since Dane's seen the intriguing brunette. Mandy resists his flirting and demands a truce. It's like waving a red flag in his face. He challenges the pact with a second kiss because he's all about the chase. When business draws him away, Mandy does the unexpected to save his daughters' lives. Unless Dane can convince Mandy that their light-hearted sparring is more than just a game to him, he'll lose the spicy, independent woman he can't forget.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Natasza Waters
• Release date: Mar 5, 2024
• ISBN: 9781777468941

Natasza Waters

Natasza Waters debuted her first romance novel in 2011 for readers who enjoy a cup of romance with a twist of steam. After majoring in English, Natasza's life altered course. After thirty-four years of service in the Coast Guard, a few crow's feet, and deeper laugh lines, she now spends her days crafting stories. Readers can look forward to romance, action, and suspense in her award-winning novels.

Book preview

Chapter One

Mandy sipped her Americano , inhaling the delightful aroma of the coffee while ignoring the incessant call from the high carb pastries in the display case at the front counter. Slathered in frosting, the plump rolls affected her the same as puppies in a pet store whimpering for a new owner. She checked her cell for the third time in two minutes. No emergency call-outs. No texts for overtime. Today, she started four blissful days off from work.

Until recently, the Coast Guard afforded her a steady paycheck. With a tinge of help from ADHD, she wanted more action, and went back to university for a degree in Emergency Response. Three years of juggling shift work, and grey matter twisting homework on her days off, she completed her degree. The struggle bore fruit six months ago when she’d competed for a position at the EPR&R (Emergency Preparedness, Response and Recovery), the lead coordinating agency for all emergency management activities, including planning, training, testing, and exercising. She’d placed first. As the junior member on the mobile response team, she had a lot to learn, but she breathed the free air again.

Office work was great, and she’d enjoyed working with Moira, but her best friend lived in California now, married to none other than Steven Porter, a billionaire. Some girls got all the luck.

Mandy eyed the coffee shop door as two businesswomen sauntered in wearing formfitting grey suits and black spiked heels. She hated heels. Not because they didn’t feel great and look great on her lanky legs, but because she was five-ten in bare feet. Throw on a pair of heels, and she towered over the average man.

Turning her wrist, she noted the time. Her date was late, but that’s what she got for flirting with starving artists and thirty-five-year-old guys attending university full-time. If they hadn’t figured out by now what they wanted in life, what the heck good were they? She had a whole string of not compatible men on her dog-eared dating card.

Zoning out for a second, she watched a summer rain shower drive droplets onto the large framed window she sat beside. August in Vancouver could be warm or wet. Or both, for that matter. She loved British Columbia’s temperate climate. On days like today, cozy surroundings and coffee topped the charts, and Mandy drew in another sip from the large white mug she clutched with two hands. Unfortunately, more caffeine wasn’t what she needed. Sitting at the small corner table in the downtown shop, she watched the other patrons as her nerves jumped like popcorn. Not because the guy she’d met here a week ago was late for their ‘easy to escape’ date. She picked up her cell for the third time in two minutes. Nothing. Nada.

What the hell, Moira? She sighed and tapped the wood tabletop with her trimmed nails.

Everyone was on standby. Moira was two weeks past her delivery date. Mandy missed her best friend. But thanks to Messenger and a good cellphone plan, they talked nearly every day. She’d visited her in June. God, the poor woman looked like she carried two water buffaloes in her stomach.

Her cell buzzed.

Quickly, she answered without looking at the caller, thinking it was Moira. Is it time?

Depends what you’re in the mood for. The sexy, low timbre made her nerves tangle into a knotted mess.

Very funny, Dane.

Steven had two brothers. Dane and Kyle. They were triplets. But not just triplets. Identical triplets. To see them up close, there was very little difference, but Dane’s voice sounded different. Deeper. Sexier. Actually, there was plenty that set Dane apart from his brothers. She’d met him when Steven and Moira married.

Dane chuckled. You ready? Because I think Moira is.

Mandy sat up straight. She’s having the babies? In the background, she heard Steven shouting orders like a drill sergeant. She grinned. Guess that’s a yes. How’s Moira?

She’s doing better than my brother, that’s for sure.

Again in the background, Steven said, Just breathe, sweetheart.

To which Moira shouted, If you tell me to breathe one more time, I’m going to punch you in the throat.

And that, in a nutshell, told Mandy how things were going in the sunny state of California, atop the Santa Monica mountain range in their twenty-thousand square foot mansion.

My bag is packed, she said.

Good, because Steven’s jet is on its way to Vancouver. Should arrive in two hours.

Mandy stood and shoved her arm in one sleeve of her jacket. It’ll take me an hour to grab my things and get to the airport. Mandy was so excited to see the babies and help out her friend.

Ah, shit. Looks like my brother is about to have a coronary. Think I’m driving. I better go. See ya soon, sweetheart.

Sure, but— Sweetheart? She chuckled. Yeah, right. No one who knew Mandy called her that. But who’s picking me up? The line went dead.

Didn’t really matter. Moira was having the baby at Cedars-Sinai. When she landed in LA, she’d grab a cab.

Sucking back the rest of her coffee, she shoved her other arm into her leather jacket sleeve. After plucking her purse from the chair, she headed for the door just as her blue-eyed date with a deficiency in telling time walked in.

Hey! he greeted.

See ya, Slick.

He held out both hands. Where you going?

California.

Shock and awe rippled across his expression. What about our date?

Be on time. Maybe we’ll have one.

The door slammed shut on another last chance at romance. She didn’t want to become the proverbial cat lady, but it sure looked that way.

She’d parked on the street in front of the coffeehouse, the pavement darkened by rain. Shallow rivers of water rushed down the road that sloped toward the waterfront. With gravity doing its job, the rain cascaded into the sewer grate behind her car.

A couple walked past, sharing one umbrella. Both smiling as they kept in step with each other, and a twist of jealousy curdled in Mandy’s belly. Thirty-five and single wasn’t a big deal these days. Lots of women were bachelorettes at her age. Pushing the image of a happily-ever-after to the back of her mind, she hopped into her red Audi.

Her cell rang with the Iron Man 2 ringtone. Her little private joke. She loved the movie and for her, Tony Stark was the ideal man. A little broken, a lot of ego, wealthy, but also kind. Too bad Hollywood could come up with the perfect man but real life threw Pee Wee Hermans her way. This time, she looked at the incoming number before answering.

Work? Oh-no! She’d already arranged annual leave with her manager. Now was not the time for them to cancel.

Afternoon, a friendly voice she knew, greeted her.

Ryan, hey. Don’t tell me I’m needed somewhere? I didn’t get a text. She started the car and turned the heater on to dry the damp air inside.

Not exactly, he said.

She liked Ryan. He was an uber-hot guy, but when it came to work, she treated every dude with the same brotherly affection. She had her principles, and dating a co-worker was off the books, no matter how good-looking he was. Ryan had some serious machismo going on, too. He led one of the other mobile response teams. With their rotations staggered, they crossed paths once a week.

Thought I’d check and see what you’re doing on Friday.

Overtime? she asked.

He chuckled. No, I’m not calling you in, but I just saw the weather forecast. It’s clearing up. Temperatures back in the eighties. Thought you might be into a little camping in the great outdoors. Pitch a tent. Spend the day hiking.

Great, finally a man with an actual job wants to see her, and she had to shoot him down for more than one reason. Sorry, Ryan, but I’m headed to the airport. Remember, I told you about my friend Moira? She’s finally having the babies. She paused. Damn it.

What’s wrong? he asked in that bedroom voice every woman she worked with sighed over.

Mandy envisioned his dark blue eyes and broad shoulders. He was fit. Like, wow, fit. I was going to say hang on to that plan. I’ll be back in three weeks, but that won’t work either.

Let me guess. Mandy McPhearson, with her high moral standards, won’t see a guy from work.

She flicked on the wipers to clear the droplets covering her windshield. He had intelligence and a decent job. The devil on her shoulder said, Cave, you silly bitch. Her card-carrying moral conscience arrived on cue. Stick to your guns.

Her steadfast rules kept her out of trouble. She hadn’t always been single. Married far too young, as in seventeen-years-old young, to a guy who worked with her father, played out like "Das Boot" and ended the same way.

Ryan wasn’t exactly lonely.

Yep. Not only that, but you’ve got a rep, bad boy.

Guys talked, and she worked with mostly men. Ryan didn’t want for female companionship. Through the phone, she heard him walking, and then the clang of a locker. She guessed he was in the prep room where they stored their ER kits.

Don’t believe everything you hear.

Mandy swept her dark strands of straight brunette hair behind her right ear. A habit since she was little, and a big ‘tell’ when feeling anxious. But if someone didn’t know her, they certainly couldn’t miss her face. She blushed with nearly every emotion. A dead giveaway she could never control.

She liked Ryan, but... Not buying it, Casanova.

Listen, you go to California and take care of your friend. I’m starting my vacation time in a week. Who knows, maybe it’ll be in Cali this year.

What the fu— Whoa! Was he serious? I’m not sure what to say to that, Ryan. Seriously, I don’t date men I work with.

Dating any outsider now? he teased.

She laughed, her face heating. Over before it began. I was leaving, and he was ten minutes late.

You don’t give a guy a slim margin of error, do you?

Nope. I gotta go. I have a jet on its way to pick me up. ETA at YVR within two hours.

Wow, nice friends.

She secured her seatbelt and checked the traffic. If she couldn’t have a sexy man, the expensive, sexy little convertible she bought would have to satisfy her lust for hard and fast.

Yeah, actually, they are. Very nice. Talk to you later.

Hey! Ryan stopped her from hanging up. Call me when all the dust settles out there.

Against her better judgement, Mandy said, Sure, but I’m telling you now, I don’t break my own rules.

Doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.

God, seeing him in a pair of biker shorts or a bathing suit gave her goosebumps. No benefits.

He chuckled in that throaty pitch that made Mandy want to reconsider her dating policy.

Talk to you soon, he said.

Four and a half hours later, the Porter’s corporate jet made its final approach to LAX runway. Mandy leaned forward to peer out the porthole window. The lights of LA twinkled. Dusk darkened the crisp blue sky, but she could still make out spiraling palm trees in the distance. The plane’s wheels touched down softly and the jet’s engines whined. Taking an offshoot on the runway, the aircraft slowed and came to a rolling stop in front of several large hangars.

Mandy wasn’t concerned about time. Her friend was safe at the hospital while Steven, her hot, doting husband, would make sure everything was in order. There’s no way after being this late, Moira would have the babies within five hours. This would probably be her friend’s first and last pregnancy. Good thing she was having twins.

Mandy unclipped her seatbelt and stretched her long legs. The flight attendant, a friendly guy with a broad smile, joined her as she released the seat buckle around her hips. I’ll get your bags, Miss McPhearson. Your ride is arriving now.

She blinked. My ride? Thought I had to call a cab.

No, ma’am. Follow me.

She grabbed her purse and waited behind him as the exit hatch opened and the stairs slid mechanically from under the plane’s belly. The attendant pressed a couple buttons on a panel near the door, then moved aside.

Hope you enjoyed your flight, he said as she stepped out onto the metal platform.

Five big shiny stars, she said.

How could she not enjoy the trip? Wined and dined for the entire two and a half hours, and he wasn’t a bad conversationalist either. Mandy liked intelligent men. Especially gay guys like him. They were so much damn fun to talk with.

The balmy California night swept a warm breeze across her cheeks and lifted the ends of her hair. Fifty feet away, a silver convertible sat on the tarmac. Although the night concealed his features, she recognized the gait of the man walking toward the plane. Yup, there was just something different about Dane Porter. He’d been in Europe when she’d visited Moira two months ago. To say she’d been bummed not to catch a glimpse of him would be a lie.

Arriving at the base of the steps, he tipped his unforgettable square jaw upward. She’d never forgotten the time they’d first met. It had been a setup. She and her crew didn’t know Steven was a triplet. Dane had been the last to appear in Moira and Steven’s kitchen. He’d snuck up behind her, swept her into his muscled arms, and kissed her. Mandy’s knees had weakened to the point of failing.

Going to stand up there all night? Dane asked, stepping under the brilliant lights from the hangars, unmasking his heart-stopping features.

Moira had told her in passing that his affair with Lydia, the pediatrics physician, had ended, like all his other relationships. Dane owned a huge computer company called Digital Yank. He had the physique that made a woman’s endorphins want to go Jane on his Tarzan once she’d ripped his expensive suit to shreds. But for Mandy, it was how he smelled. Crazy! But whatever aftershave he wore, it made her break out in tingles. For a brief second, she touched her mouth with her fingertips.

A grin spread across his firm lips, then he chuckled. A low timbre rumbled from his chest. Still remember when I kissed you, huh?

Oh frig! Her cheeks seared with heat.

Get down here, Amanda. I’ve been waiting months to do it again.

She laughed uneasily and only descended halfway down the steps. Back up the truck, Porter number one, two, or three, she said, referring to the identical characteristics of his brothers. She didn’t know who was technically the oldest. You can stow the rich playboy shtick. How’s Moira?

That cocky grin on his face, like he had her figured out, didn’t lose its potency. She’s good. Steven’s a wreck. Moira’s labor is pretty intense. My brother keeps apologizing. Kinda hilarious to watch.

She descended to the bottom step. I’m sure you were exactly the same. Dane already had two seven-year-old twin girls from his first marriage. How’s Charlotte and April?

She liked hanging with the ankle-biters. Dane’s girls loved being part of the wedding when Moira married Steven. They’d stuck like glue to Mandy’s side during the reception, too. Obviously, they didn’t like Lydia, the pediatrician Dane dated at the time. Mandy didn’t know why. Lydia seemed cool.

Dane Porter stood a healthy six-foot-four. Roosted on the last step of the jet’s staircase, she looked straight into those tropical blue eyes.

The naughty glint disappeared. They’re a handful and growing up too damn fast, he said.

Moira said the twins stayed with Dane on the weekends, but lived with their mom during the week. When they’d divorced, she’d ended up with a healthy alimony and child support payments. At the time of the divorce, Dane hadn’t taken ownership of Digital Yank, the budding computer company that was now a global enterprise. His ex remarried a divorce attorney. The same lawyer who’d taken Dane to the cleaners.

The attendant from the plane arrived with her canvas duffle bag. Dane twisted at the waist to address him. In my trunk, thanks.

The guy nodded and headed to the sleek convertible. Dane’s Audi cost about two-hundred grand more than hers. But hey, the billionaire could afford anything he wanted.

Looks like you’re planning to ship out to sea, Dane said.

Is your fancy ride gonna spontaneously eject my luggage without a Louis Vuitton Horizon tag?

He cleared his throat and glanced away. Dane gave a slight nod, as if the verbal reprimand had hit the bullseye.

Moira had a lifestyle of the rich and famous, but she hadn’t changed. She was still the woman Mandy had worked twelve-hour shifts with before she’d joined a prominent, extremely wealthy family.

Thanks for picking me up, she said. Didn’t expect door-to-door service. Dane’s blond hair ruffled in the breeze and that aftershave he wore made her inhale a little deeper. Her gaze strolled across his broad shoulders, and the expensive suit knitted to his masculine form.

I was at work when I got the call, he said. Didn’t have time to change. Been at the hospital ever since. He stepped back. Ready to go?

He almost seemed deflated that she wouldn’t lay her lips on his. She barely knew the guy. Moira said he had a wicked habit of flicking his finger, and women fell into his bed. Mandy could easily see why with his stunning features, but she wouldn’t be one of his conquests. She hopped onto the tarmac.

Right behind you.

With the Audi’s top down, Dane left the airport and merged with a thick mass of vehicles headed east. Night wrapped the City of Angels in a cloak. With a population of millions, lights twinkled everywhere she looked.

Good flight? he asked, gripping the steering wheel with one hand.

Let’s see—corporate jet. Wine service and a hot meal. Not bad, considering my pay grade. I suppose you have a jet, too. Dane’s jaw etched into a sharp line. Hey, I’m not mocking your success. Moira said it was a big deal when you took over Digital Yank. Quite the accomplishment.

He glanced at her and his jaw softened, then he put his eyes back on the road. The jet’s in Beijing. Five of my executives are working on a contract with a company to supply new technology for our next release.

His cell dinged, and he grabbed it from the holder on the middle console. Dane waited until he came to a stop at a red light before looking at the phone. His brow tightened. It’s Steven. Doctors are concerned. They’re opting for a cesarean.

Is Moira all right?

He didn’t say she wasn’t.

The light turned green. Here, gimme that. She took the cell from Dane.

Steven it’s Mandy. We’re coming. Is Moira okay?

A thumbs-up emoji appeared, followed by. Safer this way. C U soon.

She’s fine. Man, Steven sure loves her, doesn’t he? Mandy rolled the phone back and forth between her hands.

No question. So how long are you staying, Amanda?

He always called her that instead of Mandy. Most of the time, she’d correct anyone who did that, but it didn’t sound so bad coming from his mouth. She popped the phone back into the bracket on the console and leaned her right arm on the open window ledge. Raising her hand, the balmy California wind rushed through her fingers.

Got two weeks’ leave approved with a tentative third week if nothing comes up.

Doesn’t the boyfriend mind you being away for so long?

Was he fishing? Don’t have one, but a buddy from work said he might come to Cali for vacation.

He a friend, or something else?

What’s with the twenty questions about my love life, Porter?

He shifted in his seat. Just making conversation.

Listen, think of me as extended family. I’m here to help Moira and see those beautiful babies.

She might as well set things straight from the get-go. Lightning wouldn’t strike twice with the Porter brothers. Moira and Steven fell in love at first sight. She had no intention of rolling around in bed with Dane and have to squirm with discomfort every time she came to visit afterward.   

Steven hired a nanny already. Moira has plenty of help, Dane said.

Then I’ll sit around on my duff with Moira.

Don’t you two talk every day?

How’d you know that?

He shrugged a broad shoulder. Was wondering—

The car hit a pothole deep enough to give her whiplash. Heck, your roads are worse than ours.

Shit. Sorry.

Suddenly, there was a distinct flapping sound, and the vehicle hobbled. Dane pulled into an empty parking lot. The industrial area had little lighting and the businesses appeared closed.

They both hopped out to find the front right tire had blown.

Great. Dane leaned into the car to grab his cell. I’ll call Triple A.

What? Where’s the lug wrench, jack, and the spare? I’ll fix it. We’ll be back on the road in no time.

He chuckled. In the trunk, but you’re not changing the tire.

Pop the trunk, Dane. You don’t have to be embarrassed.

I’m not! He shunted off his suit jacket, then loosened his tie and slid it off his neck. You think I can’t change a fucking tire?

I don’t know, can you? He shook his head as if she was a little offside. I’m just saying, you don’t have to get your fancy suit dirty. I’ll do it.

A distinct look of irritation flattened his otherwise sexy lips. Dane popped the trunk from the driver’s side, then rounded the car. Is that a thing in Canada? Guys who wear a suit are useless?

Didn’t say that.

He pushed her bag aside, flipped up the carpet and removed a hatch, revealing the spare and a twelve by six inch black leather case.

She reached for the case and he gripped her wrist. I get it, he said. You chew rawhide and kill your own dinner.

If that’s another way of saying I’m competent, then yes.

Dane’s strong hand encircled her wrist as he straightened, and they stood toe to toe. Is that because you’re a modern day feminist or are you trying to tell me you like being on top?

Mandy’s cheeks heated to the temperature of the sun. She snatched her wrist from his grasp, but only because he’d let her go. Dane was a powerful man, not some weakling computer nerd with pale skin that never surfaced from his basement.

I’ll—I’ll—.

Relax, Amanda. I was asking about your schedule while you’re here because I thought you might have time to review Digital Yanks’ Emergency Response plan. It’s what you do, right?

Embarrassment swelled. The Porter brothers had a wicked sense of humor, especially Dane. Uncomfortable with the man’s formidable presence and the kiss she couldn’t forget from a year ago, she’d acted like an idiot.

Um, yeah. Sure, I can do that.

Good. The creases next to his blistering blue eyes deepened with a grin. Flashlight’s in the glove compartment.

Chapter Two

Dane parked in the Cedars-Sinai above-ground parking lot. Amanda hadn’t said a thing since he’d come up with the excuse on the fly about checking the ER plan at Digital Yank and deflated her obvious discomfort.

When she’d appeared in the open hatch of Steven’s corporate jet, his pulse had tripled. Amanda set the bar higher than most beautiful women with her long legs and lean figure. But her sharp wit impressed him the most.

The crush he’d had on Moira, his brother’s girlfriend at the time, was more about her kindness when he’d been in a weird headspace and couldn’t connect with any woman since his divorce.

During Moira and Steven’s wedding, he’d dated Lydia. Amanda was the Maid