Texas Ransom. Amanda Stevens
him a look over her shoulder. “Will you stop fishing? I told you earlier the earth moved. What more do you want?”
“Tell me again. I’m feeling insecure.” His hand trailed down her bare arm. “Or better yet, show me.”
She slapped at his hand. “Up here? No way! I’m not an exhibitionist.”
“Tell that to Myron.” Myron was the stray tabby they’d adopted a few months ago when he’d crawled over the fence one day and caught them skinny-dipping in the pool. He’d gotten quite an eyeful before either of them had noticed him stretched out on one of the loungers.
“Different situation entirely,” Kendall said. “And besides, Myron doesn’t have a judgmental bone in his body.”
“And I do?”
“You’re not the one I’m worried about. Getting caught in flagrante delicto by the Mexican ambassador is not my idea of a fun evening.”
“No, but I bet it would be his,” Graham said as he drew her back against him.
Her shampoo smelled like flowers, but her perfume was something darker, headier. That was Kendall. Always a dichotomy. Insecure, dauntless and perfectly flawed. A woman he found endlessly fascinating, even after seven years of marriage. More like five, though, if you counted the long separation.
But Graham didn’t want to think about that tonight. He and Kendall had never been happier, so what did it matter that she’d once left him? He hadn’t tried to stop her. The truth of the matter was he’d been relieved when she walked out on their marriage.
That had been a long time ago. Things were different now. They were different.
And yet there were times, such as earlier tonight before they’d left the hotel, when Graham sensed that maybe everything between them wasn’t as perfect as he wanted to believe. Sometimes, when Kendall didn’t know he was around, he’d see a look come over her face. Sad, pensive…lost. Graham tried to chalk it up to her past. She didn’t talk much about her family, but he knew she’d had a difficult childhood and a troubled adolescence. He’d never pressed for details. He wasn’t keen on airing his dirty laundry, either, but at times, he still felt as if he’d barely scratched the surface of who she really was.
“I love you. You know that, right?”
She turned. Was it his imagination or did her smile seem tentative? Wistful? “I love you, too.” She lifted her hand to trace his jawline. “It’s going to be okay.”
His heart did a funny little somersault against his chest. “What is?”
“Tonight,” she said, but there was a slight hesitation before she answered.
He nodded and managed a smile although suddenly his mouth had gone dry. Something was going on with her. Something she didn’t feel she could share with him.
“Kendall?”
“Yes?”
“Are you sure the earth moved?”
She punched his shoulder. “Forget it. We’re not having a quickie on the rooftop to stroke your ego when there’s a whole roomful of people waiting downstairs to tell you how wonderful you are.”
“Not the same thing at all.”
“Seriously, Graham. I’m so proud of you,” she said, her eyes suddenly glistening.
That was another thing that had Graham a little concerned. Kendall had been so emotional these past few days. He had no idea what that was all about, and she didn’t seem to want to tell him.
“All right,” he said reluctantly. “You’ve convinced me. I suppose we should go downstairs and at least make an appearance.”
She nodded. “I need to freshen up first. My hair must be a mess.”
“You look beautiful.”
“I never look beautiful,” she said with a resigned shrug that always broke his heart.
He resisted the urge to trace one of the scars on her face with his fingertip, but she wouldn’t like that. Since the last surgery, the imperfections were barely even visible, but she knew they were there. And even after all this time, she was still a little self-conscious in social situations.
To Graham, though, she would always be beautiful.
She started for the elevator, but he caught her arm and she turned back. “What is it?”
He gazed into her eyes. “Are you happy? With me, I mean.”
Her lips trembled and for a moment, he thought she was going to cry. Instead she smiled and lifted herself on her tiptoes to remove his glasses before she kissed him.
“Being with you is like being in heaven,” she whispered.
“YOU’RE ONE lucky bastard, Graham. I hope you know that.”
Graham nodded as he surveyed the glittering crowd that had assembled to celebrate the post-construction phase of the PemCo Tower. “I’m doing okay.”
“Doing okay?” Michael Barron, his best friend since their college days at Rice University, clapped him on the back. “I think most folks would say you’re doing a little better than okay. Gorgeous wife. Big house. Your own company. And now this…” His blue eyes twinkled. “You’re living the dream, buddy.”
“You’re not doing so badly yourself,” Graham said, his gaze still on the crowd. Where the hell was Kendall? She’d gone to freshen up as soon as they came down from the roof, and he hadn’t seen her since. That had been several minutes ago. He didn’t know why, but her absence made him uneasy.
Or maybe his apprehension that evening had more to do with the argument he’d had with Terrence that morning. He hadn’t told Kendall about their latest disagreement because he knew how much she hated the combative relationship he had with his older brother. Terrence always knew how to push his buttons, and Graham should have known better than to let him get to him. After all this time and all the success he’d achieved, he certainly had no reason to feel intimidated.
But somehow in Terrence’s presence, Graham always reverted to the insecure geek who’d grown up in the shadow of his football-star brother.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong.” Michael deftly plucked a champagne glass from the tray of a passing waiter. “I’m living the good life, too. It’s just that my career has taken a few unexpected turns. Not you, though.” He took a long sip of his drink. “You’ve had the same goal since we were roommates in college. You always said you were going to design the tallest, grandest building in Houston, and by damn if you didn’t pull it off. I admire your focus, Graham. I really do.”
Graham tried not to wince at the accolade. Sometimes he wasn’t so sure his dedication was anything to be proud of. Career tunnel-vision had almost cost him his marriage, but ever since he and Kendall had reconciled five years ago, he’d made a promise to her and to himself that their relationship would come first no matter what.
He’d been worried when he first took the PemCo contract that it would put too much stress on their marriage. From inception to completion, the project had consumed nearly two years of his life, requiring endless meetings and arduous hours at the computer drafting version after version of the building until a design was finally accepted by the team.
And then came the politics, the disagreements, the costly delays and untold man hours that were inevitable with such an ambitious project. The tension had only escalated once the alliance between Houston-based PemCo and Pemex, the Mexican state-run petroleum company, became public. One of PemCo’s refineries had been firebombed in protest, and the mastermind, a former head of the oil workers’ labor union named Joaquin Galindo, had been arrested in Mexico City and sent to prison.
There were times when Graham wondered if the project would ever be completed under such volatile conditions. But through it all, Kendall had been