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“You’re not making this easy,” Rio said, staring into her eyes, his voice suddenly hoarse.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Please, don’t.”
“I won’t hurt you.”
His words were all but drowned out by the sound of someone running in their direction. Luke. He’d been slower than Rio, but he was mere steps away now.
Rio let go of one of her arms and quickly tugged the shoulder of her dress back into place so that it covered her breast, his thumb brushing the tip of her nipple as he did. His muscles seemed to tense at the touch, but he didn’t linger. By the time Luke reached them, he’d pulled her skirt back in place so that she was completely covered.
“I see you found the runaway princess,” Luke said, his breathing still heavy as he almost stumbled over them.
“No thanks to you,” Rio snapped.
Luke’s face twisted into a scowl. “Don’t go laying the blame on me. She’d have never escaped in the first place if you hadn’t been acting like some macho hero.”
“I’ve just got better sense than to damage the merchandise before we’re paid for it.”
Luke spit in the dirt, the phlegm falling mere inches from Jaime’s head. Her stomach turned, but this time she bit back the angered sarcasm that flew to her tongue.
She had to play this smarter. Angering Luke wasn’t going to speed her escape or help her stay alive until her brothers could rescue her.
“Go back to the house,” Rio ordered. “I’ve got unfinished business with the princess.”
“You’re not my boss.”
“Damn good thing.”
“And you don’t own the woman.”
Rio laid a hand on Jaime possessively, his thumbs resting just below her breasts. Luke lingered, staring at her as if he could see right through the wrinkled dress before leering contemptuously and ambling back toward the house.
Rio’s gaze followed Luke until he’d completely disappeared in the trees. He exhaled slowly and scooted away from Jaime, letting go of her entirely.
“I can’t say much for the company you keep,” Jaime said.
“I didn’t do the choosing.”
“You’re here.”
“I do what I have to.”
“Then just let me go,” she pleaded. “I’ll pay you and you won’t have to split the ransom with anyone.”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
“It could.” But it was clear he wasn’t buying and what he did say didn’t make a lot of sense. “How much ransom did you ask for?”
“Can’t say.”
“Because you let those stupid thugs call all the shots?”
“For now, except with you. I’ll be calling the shots with you, and if you’ve got a brain in that pretty little head of yours, you’ll listen. Rule number one, don’t try anything stupid like that feeble escape attempt again.”
Not until she got half a chance.
Rio moved into a sitting position and tugged her up to do the same. “We need to talk, Jaime.”
“I’ve told you all I plan to about my brothers. You may collect a ransom, but you’ll never live to enjoy it. They’ll hunt you down and—”
“I know about your siblings. Your oldest brother Langston is CEO of Collingsworth Oil. Your brothers Matt and Bart run Jack’s Bluff Ranch. Your brother Zach is in law enforcement. Your sister, Becky, is married to Nick Ridgely, former Dallas Cowboy star.”
Just as she expected. The kidnappers knew her situation all too well. She hadn’t been a random hit.
“Who’s the black sheep of the family?” Rio asked.
“We don’t have one. We leave the dirty dealings to people like you.”
“Every family has a backslider, maybe one who’s involved with dealing drugs. That pays really well these days, I’m told. A huge, respectable ranch might be just the place to stash a shipment from Mexico.”
Fury fired through her. One minute she could almost convince herself to trust Rio. The next, she ached to slap him hard across that rugged, handsome face. “How dare you accuse my brothers of something so despicable!”
“I’m just asking.”
“I’m through talking to you.” She stood, yanking her dress down to cover as much thigh as she could. “Now I’m going to walk down to that lake and wash the mud off me. You do as you please.”
He smiled for the first time since he’d tackled her to the ground. “Is that an invitation?”
For some stupid reason, she felt heat rush to her cheeks. She turned so Rio wouldn’t see her blush.
“You don’t need an invitation. You have the gun. But don’t think I’d ever welcome your touch, not if you were the only man left on earth.” She stamped away without looking back.
She could hear Rio following her, and turned when she reached the water’s edge. He’d stopped a few yards from her and leaned against a tree, giving her space. He looked relaxed, cocky. More like a sexy protector than a villain who held her life in his hands.
Probably all part of his diabolical plan, she told herself. He expected her to trust him because he didn’t force himself on her and protected her from Luke’s perverted advances. She had to find a way to escape, but outsmarting Rio might be impossible.
That left Luke. He was totally disgusting and she wouldn’t put anything past him. But it was clear he was the weaker of the two both mentally and physically. If she was going to escape, it would have to be on his watch.
Heaven help her if she failed and was left at his mercy alone.
ZACH ARRIVED BACK at the hospital at ten before ten in the morning, parked in a space reserved for law enforcement and bolted up the stairs to the ICU waiting room where he and his brothers and sister were to meet with the doctor.
Langston, Bart and Becky had been there since they’d followed the ambulance to the hospital last night. Matt had stayed at the big house in case there was a call from the kidnappers. So far there hadn’t been.
Zach had been on the move, investigating the crime scene on his own and combing police records for cons who met the descriptions Buerto had given them. He was no closer to a lead on who had abducted Jaime.
Langston saw Zach enter the waiting room and motioned him to the far left corner of the room where they’d staked claim to a group of chairs. “The doctor’s with Mother now. He’ll see us as soon as he comes out.”
“Glad I made it in time. Have you seen Mom since we last talked?”
“They let me go in for a couple of minutes,” Becky said. “The nurse thought I might calm her.” Her voice lowered. “Even drugged, she’s restless and jerky, and there was nothing I could say to change that.”
Zach leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Did she ask about Jaime?”
“No. She’s still drifting in and out of sleep from the drugs they’re giving her, but the nurse said she’d called out Jaime’s name when she was sleeping. I’m sure that as soon as she’s fully alert, she’ll demand answers.”
Zach wished to hell they had some. “As soon as the doctor finishes with us, we have to find a place to talk in private.”
Bart nodded. “I’m for that. I think we should reconsider our current strategy.”
They’d agreed to hold off on calling in the cops or the FBI until they heard the kidnappers’ demands, but no one had expected the wait to be this long.
Zach’s phone rang. The group grew instantly quiet, though there was no real reason to think the kidnappers had his cell number. He answered.
“Buerto,” he said out loud, so that they would know to whom he was talking. They stared at him, their anxiety tangible.
“I’ve heard from the kidnappers,” Buerto said.
“Why did they call you?”
“I guess because I was with her when they abducted her.”
“What did they say?”
“It would be better if we could talk about this in person.”
”I’m at the hospital waiting to talk to Mom’s cardiologist.”
“I’m already on my way to the ranch, so I can be at the hospital in about fifteen minutes, twenty at the most.”
“I don’t see the point in waiting that long.”
“Can you talk freely?”
“I can listen.”
“Not good enough. The deal they want is complicated.”
Zach’s irritation level skyrocketed. The kidnappers should have come directly to the family. Where did they get off dealing with some guy who was a stranger to all of them?
“Call me the second you arrive at the hospital.”
“Naturally,” Buerto answered and then quickly broke the connection. Zach returned his phone to the clip at his waist.
“Contact?” Langston asked, carefully choosing his words so that no one outside the family would know they were talking about a kidnapping.
“Yeah. Through Buerto. He’s on his way here right now.”
“Why call him?” Becky asked, her question echoing his own. “He’s not family.”
Doctor Gathrite joined them before Zach was forced to admit he had no answer to that question.
“There’s a small conference room down the hall we can use,” the doctor said. “It will be more private there.”
They followed him to a room that smelled of stale coffee. The furniture was limited to a half dozen metal folding chairs and a table barely big enough for the five of them to squeeze around. A counter on the back wall held a coffee maker that had long since finished brewing.
Dr. Gathrite stood back for them to enter, then offered coffee, which only Langston accepted. The cardiologist settled in a chair at the head of the table.
Zach found a spot to stand against the side wall. He was too keyed up to sit.
“Do you have the results of the tests, Doctor?” Becky asked.
“We do, at least enough to make a few diagnostic assessments. The good news is there’s no significant blockage in the arteries that feed the heart and no sign of a blood clot.”
“I don’t understand,” Bart said. “If there’s no blockage, what caused the coronary attack?”
“The attack appears to have been caused by a sudden spasm, one so intense that it cut off the blood flow through the artery. That’s far less common than an attack brought on by cardiovascular disease or a clot, but it sometimes happens in otherwise heart-healthy individuals.”
Langston set his coffee cup on the table in front of him. “Then you think her heart attack was brought on by stress?”
“There are factors other than emotional or physical trauma that can cause a spasm, such as certain drugs or exposure to extreme weather conditions. But, yes, in your mother’s case, the evidence points to stress.”
Becky clasped her hands in front of her. “How much damage was there to her heart?”
“You can count your blessings there, too,” Dr. Gathrite said. “The permanent damage is minimal. The issue now is having her avoid any additional emotional trauma.”
Which was basically impossible unless they were able to arrange Jaime’s safe return quickly. Zach only half listened to the rest of the doctor’s spiel and the details of treatment. Zach’s concern for his mother was a given, but the only way he could help her, or Jaime, was to acquire Jaime’s safe release.
His cell phone vibrated and he checked the caller ID. Buerto. Zach excused himself and went into the hall to take the call.
Langston followed him. “This is a family dilemma, Zach. Bart, Matt and I will be with you when you meet with Buerto.”
He clapped his oldest brother on the back. “I never doubted for a minute that you would.”
IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON BEFORE Jaime heard from either of her kidnappers again, though she could hear them talking through the thin walls. Occasionally she heard a door slam or Luke’s snorting laugh.
She’d tried her door a couple of times, but it was locked tight. And the boards that had been nailed over the window wouldn’t budge. She’d need something on the order of a pickax to remove them. If she ever got outside this room again, she’d snoop to see what kind of tools she could find.
Finally, Rio opened the door and ordered her out to eat. She followed him to the kitchen. Luke lay on the sofa, his bare feet hanging over the edge. His gun was on a homemade coffee table instead of tucked inside his shoulder holster. It was the only good sign.
“I made you a sandwich,” Rio said, pushing a plate toward her. “It’s not much, but it will keep you going.”
She washed her hands at the kitchen sink and returned to the table, choosing a chair that made it easy to watch Luke and the gun. It was almost as if he were taunting her with it, deliberately tempting her to steal it.
The sandwich was a couple of slices of white bread smeared with a spicy mustard and wrapped around a piece of tasteless luncheon meat. She chewed and choked it down with a sip of lukewarm bottled water.
The two men barely spoke to each other as she ate, but when they did, the growing tension between them crackled like flames in a pile of dry leaves. Had she caused or merely added to the friction? She suspected it was the latter.
Luke looked disgustingly disheveled, his clothes wrinkled and stained from the breakfast she’d dumped in his lap. The underarms of his shirt were circled with perspiration. A glob of what looked to be dried mustard stuck to the stubble of whiskers on his chin.
