Texas Ransom. Amanda Stevens

of starting a family.

      Kendall blinked back hot tears as she stepped into the elevator. She didn’t look at the man beside her. She couldn’t.

      “I told you where the money is. Take it and let me go,” she pleaded.

      He was a tall, swarthy man with gleaming black eyes and flawless English. “What assurance do I have that the police won’t be waiting for me at the drop point?”

      “I wouldn’t do that. You know I wouldn’t. There’s too much at stake. If anyone were ever to find out—”

      He laughed. “Yes, you’ve covered your tracks well, haven’t you? You’ve always been very clever. I’ll give you that.” His voice hardened. “But the answer is no. You’re coming with me. Once I have the money, I’ll let you go.”

      “Can I at least call my husband and tell him I’m okay? He’ll know something is wrong. I would never leave without telling him.”

      “You’ll call him as soon as we’re safely out of the building. Trust me, you don’t want him to follow us. The situation could get very nasty.”

      Kendall closed her eyes. “Please don’t hurt him—”

      “As I said, no one will get hurt as long as you cooperate. So just relax and enjoy the ride. It’ll soon be over.”

      “How soon?”

      “As soon as I know you haven’t betrayed me. Because we both know what you are capable of, do we not?”

      She suppressed another shiver as she felt his gaze sweep over her. Hector Reyes had once been employed by the same man she’d worked for in Mexico. Leo Kittering was an American ex-pat who had remarried well and used his wife’s resources to forge a powerful empire.

      At one time, he’d been a major power broker, but then his only son had died, and all Kittering had been able to focus on was revenge.

      Whether Hector Reyes still worked for him or not, she didn’t know, but she had a feeling that if Kittering had sent him, she would already be dead. Collecting a hundred thousand dollars in extortion money would not even be on Leo Kittering’s radar.

      The elevator slid to a stop on the third floor. They got off and used the stairwell to reach the lobby level.

      Hector seemed to know his way around very well. He led her quickly down a narrow corridor to an emergency exit that opened into a dead end street.

      Kendall braced herself for the alarm she thought would go off when the emergency door was opened, but all remained silent. She wondered if the system had somehow been disengaged, either by Hector or perhaps an accomplice inside the building.

      A black van, nearly invisible in the shadowy alley, waited nearby and inched forward as they emerged from the building. A panel slid open in the side, and Hector pushed her toward the vehicle.

      As Kendall stumbled forward, someone inside the van grabbed her and pulled her inside. Hector scrambled in behind her, shoved the door closed and the van took off so abruptly, Kendall lost her balance and fell.

      Huddled on the floor, she glanced around. Besides Hector and the driver, there were two other men in the back of the van, masked and armed with assault rifles. They spoke in Spanish, so low and rapid that Kendall had trouble following the conversation, even though she’d once lived in Mexico.

      But she had no trouble interpreting the danger she suddenly found herself in. This was no ordinary extortion or blackmail scheme. She was being kidnapped. Obviously, the money that Hector had asked for had been a diversion, a way to get and keep her off guard. Now they would go to Graham. He would find out everything.

      But it wouldn’t matter because she would be dead.

      Kendall wasn’t naive enough to believe they would release her once they had what they wanted. She knew her chances.

      Panic mushroomed in her throat, and it was all she could do to swallow a scream. How was she going to get away from them?

      Hector picked up her evening bag, removed her cell phone and tossed it toward her. “Call your husband. Tell him you are all right and you want him to meet you at home.”

      “But we’re spending the night in Houston—”

      “Do it!”

      Kendall mustered up a cool defiance. “Why should I? If you had any intention of letting me go, you would have taken the money and run.”

      “Now you are being too clever for your own good,” Hector advised. “If you don’t do exactly as I say, this will end very badly for you. And for your husband.”

      At the threat to Graham, Kendall’s courage flagged. “What do you want?” she said raggedly. “If it’s more money—”

      “Some things are more important than money,” one of the men barked, his lips curling in disgust. He was tall and dark, with the cruelest eyes Kendall had ever looked into. “But someone like you would have a difficult time comprehending that.”

      “What do you want from—”

      “Enough!” The man hit her with the back of his hand, and Kendall fell back, stunned by the pain. Light exploded behind her eyes, and for a moment, she thought she would pass out.

      Hector Reyes knelt beside her and leaning in very close, he placed his lips against her ear. “These men will kill us both if you don’t do as I tell you,” he whispered, curling her fingers around the cell phone he placed in her limp hand. “They’ll put a bullet in my skull, but you won’t be so lucky. Comprende?”

      SECURITY moved quickly to seal the exits, but in the initial confusion, Graham managed to slip out of the room without being detained. He hurried down the long corridor, not knowing if Kendall had come this way or not. Or if he would be stopped before he reached the elevators. All he knew was that he had to find her.

      He had no idea who the man was that she’d left with, but Graham’s first panicked thought was that the stranger was somehow connected to the attack on the ambassador. And he’d taken Kendall hostage.

      But he didn’t see how that was possible. The man had been nowhere near Garza when he collapsed.

      Something else niggled at Graham. When Kendall turned at the door, their gazes had clung for a moment before he’d been pushed back against the wall. But in that split second, he’d seen her face clearly. She’d looked pale and anxious, but she hadn’t been frightened.

      A chill slid down Graham’s spine as he hurried toward the elevators. The notion that Kendall had left with the stranger of her own accord filled him with the darkest dread even as he told himself there had to be a logical explanation for her behavior.

      When she’d walked out before, Graham had been all too willing to take the easy way out, to bury himself in his work and let their relationship drift toward divorce.

      But in the five years since the reconciliation, their marriage had grown stronger every day. Or so he’d thought.

      Now doubt tore through his heart, and he remembered all the hours that he’d devoted to the PemCo Oil project. All the evenings he couldn’t make it home for dinner. The trips. The cancelled plans. Had his wife again grown restless while he pursued his dream?

      He would have known if she were that unhappy. They were so close. They talked every day, no matter how busy his schedule. There had to be a perfectly innocent reason for her hasty departure. There had to be—

      The vibration of his cell phone inside his breast pocket cut off Graham’s thoughts, and as he pulled out the phone, he glanced at the display. It was Kendall.

      Relief washed over him as he lifted the phone to his ear. “Kendall?” When she didn’t answer, Graham said anxiously, “Are you all right? Where are you?”

      Still more silence. Then finally she whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

      “Sorry