Texas Ransom. Amanda Stevens
should just relax. After all, it wasn’t every day a man realized a lifelong dream.
As the architect on record for the project, Graham had been invited to say a few words to the crowd, but he’d declined so that the guest of honor—the Mexican ambassador to the United States—would have more time at the podium. Manuel Garza was just winding up his speech. He had close ties to PemCo Oil and had been a strong advocate of deregulating Mexico’s petroleum industry to allow in foreign investors. He’d seized the opportunity to stress the necessity of developing a regional energy program and cited the PemCo Tower as a symbolic merger of the two great neighbors. It was a gutsy speech, considering the protests back home.
As the ambassador began to close, Graham’s attention drifted to the windows and to the panoramic view of the city. Even now, standing at the very pinnacle of his dream, he could scarcely believe he’d accomplished what he had set out to do—make his mark on the skyline of his hometown.
As he’d told Ellie earlier, the accomplishment was not his alone. Austin-based Hollister and Associates had collaborated on the design with a larger architectural firm in Houston, as well as with the developer, builder and representatives from PemCo Oil.
Thousands of hours had gone into both the design and construction of the building, but all that was behind Graham now. When he walked out of the building tonight, his role in the project would be greatly diminished. He and Kendall would finally be able to enjoy the vacation they’d been talking about for years. A month-long adventure that would take them to Bora Bora, Hong Kong, Singapore and finally the Australian outback.
The tickets and itinerary, along with their passports, were tucked away in his desk drawer at home, their suitcases had been brought down from the attic and Kendall had been feverishly shopping for weeks.
From the parade of sundresses, shoes and sportswear that had been modeled in their bedroom night after night, the one thing that stood out in Graham’s memory was a certain turquoise bikini that made him anticipate even more keenly the long, luxurious days on a private island in the South Pacific that would launch the trip.
He could picture Kendall’s long, toned body stretched out on the sand, her skin warm and silky to his touch. The image was so vivid that Graham could almost smell the coconut oil, but the stirring of warmth in the lower part of his body was all too real. He needed to think about something else.
You know, a trip like that…just the two of you…I wouldn’t be surprised if Kendall came home pregnant.
His thoughts skidded to a halt as his sister-in-law’s prediction rushed through his head. How would he feel about that? Graham wondered. He’d never thought of himself as the paternal type, but deep down, he knew that wasn’t the real reason for his hesitancy.
After five years of marital bliss, he still harbored a secret doubt about his relationship with Kendall. What if she decided to leave him again?
His gaze went back to her. He couldn’t help it. He loved looking at her. But as she drifted closer, he noticed something he hadn’t been able to see from a distance. The anxious glitter in her dark eyes might have gone unnoticed if he hadn’t been watching her so closely. She was still smiling, but tension tightened the corners of her mouth and her fingers strayed to the gold necklace at her throat, a sure sign that she was upset.
She stopped for a moment, waylaid by someone Graham didn’t know, and as the man leaned in to make himself heard over the ambassador, Kendall’s gaze uneasily searched the room. Her eyes found Graham, moved away, then came back, a silent plea emanating from the brown depths.
Something was wrong. Graham could see the distress on her face. He started toward her, but at the same moment, a waiter collided with someone in front of him. The heavy tray of crystal flutes toppled, showering champagne over those in the immediate vicinity.
A collective gasp rose from the crowd as everyone scurried out of the way, and Graham’s view of Kendall was momentarily blocked.
Somewhere nearby a woman screamed. Not the shocked squeal of someone who had been doused by champagne, but a horrified, ear-splitting shriek that stunned the room into silence.
Everyone seemed to drop back a step, creating a void at the front of the room where a man had collapsed. Graham recognized him instantly. It was Manuel Garza.
Graham’s first thought was that the man had had a heart attack as he left the podium, but then he saw a crimson puddle beneath Garza’s left shoulder.
The ambassador’s wife was on her knees beside him, her hands covered in blood. She looked up, her eyes frantic and brimming. “Por favor! Someone help him!”
Graham reacted instinctively. He moved forward, not really knowing what he could do, but in the space of a heartbeat, security came out of the woodwork. Graham was pushed back into the crowd by a man wearing an earpiece. As the officer spoke rapidly into a transmitter concealed by his sleeve, he turned away, and Graham saw someone else rush toward the wounded man.
A hand reached out and grabbed her, but she jerked free and shouted, “For God’s sake, I’m a doctor! Let me help him!”
The ambassador’s personal bodyguards quickly formed a protective circle around him as the undercover HPD officers assigned to the event moved to restore order. But in the initial pandemonium, Graham had lost sight of Kendall.
He turned now, desperate to find her. He couldn’t see her at first, but then he spotted a splash of red near the entrance.
“Kendall!”
Whether she somehow heard him over the roar of the panicked crowd, or whether the force of his gaze drew her attention, Graham didn’t know. But at that exact moment, she glanced back, her gaze clinging to his a split second before he found himself pushed back against the wall.
He called out to Kendall, but his voice was lost in the din. Frantic to reach her, Graham tore himself free and fought his way through the terrified mob.
But by the time he reached the door, his wife had vanished.
Chapter Two
Kendall had no idea what had just happened in the room behind her. She’d heard the crash of glass, a scream and then all hell broke loose. She glanced over her shoulder, trying desperately to find Graham again, but someone grabbed her arm and pulled her into the hallway.
“Hurry!” the man ordered in a raspy voice. “This way!”
“Wait!” Kendall tried to resist, but he was too strong.
“I told you. Do as I say and nobody gets hurt.” He shoved her toward the elevators, and when she stumbled, he grabbed her arm again and jerked her upright.
Dread tightened in her chest. She hadn’t seen or heard from Hector Reyes in years, not since the night she’d tried to flee Mexico for good. Not since the horrible car accident that had left her battered and scarred and wanting to die.
And then she’d opened her eyes one morning and found Graham at her bedside. She’d later learned from the doctors that she’d been unconscious for nearly a week before his arrival and had been given very little hope of survival. But somehow she must have sensed Graham’s presence. Somehow his voice had lured her from the darkness.
For days, he remained at her bedside, talking to her softly when he thought she’d drifted off. He’d been candid about the ambiguity of his feelings, perhaps because he wasn’t sure if she could actually comprehend what he was saying.
But she’d heard every word. Lying flat on her back with her face and head swathed in bandages, both arms broken and one leg in traction, drugs dulling but not obliterating the constant pain, she’d listened. And she’d wondered how any woman in her right mind could have ever allowed a man like Graham Hollister to slip away from her.
She’d vowed to herself over and over that if she was lucky enough to survive her wounds, if she was fortunate enough to have a chance to start over, she would do everything in her power to change, to become the kind of person a man like Graham deserved.
But