was anything but all right.
ALEX GRAHAM was thinking the same thing as he and his sister stepped out into the Miami heat, Caroline in the lead.
She’s in some kind of trouble.
The thought came out of nowhere and had no real basis. Sure it was unusual that Caroline had changed her wedding date, maybe especially this late. But things happened.
No, what was really odd and unnerving was the fact that she’d called him out of the blue and asked him to meet her at the wedding planner’s today. For years he’d been on the outs with his family, Caroline included.
Caroline was the baby girl of his blue-blooded family. It didn’t help that their mother had died shortly after she was born. Or that C. B. Graham had tried to make up for it by giving Caroline any and everything she wanted.
Caroline, or the little princess as Alex called her, had been spoiled and difficult. For years he’d avoided her as well as his father and brother, telling himself it was no big loss.
In truth, his family avoided him probably more than the other way around. He’d been the black sheep ever since he refused to attend an Ivy League college—and then had the audacity to become a fireman.
His father, C.B., was an overachiever who swore that the bottom line was always money. Fortunately for C.B., his firstborn, Brian, had followed in his footsteps attending the old man’s alma mater and going into the family investments business.
C.B. had almost disowned Alex when he’d gone to a state college and then become a Miami fireman. Needless to say, they still didn’t get along. In fact, his father had nothing but contempt for Alex’s choices and did little to hide it.
“Caroline?” Alex called after his sister as she walked ahead of him. The afternoon sun hung over the brightly painted buildings along the street, the day uncomfortably hot and humid. It was only June. He hated to think what August would be like. Palm fronds rustled in the hot breeze off Biscayne Bay. Somewhere in the distance came the screech of tires, the blare of a horn. Had she not heard him?
“Caroline?” She’d said little since he’d met her here and he wasn’t going to let her get away until they talked. Really talked, something his family avoided at all costs.
She’d stopped and seemed to be leaning against a wrought-iron bench as if she felt ill.
Alex caught up to his sister and saw that she was flushed and appeared close to tears. He took her arm. “Hey, are you all right? You don’t look so good. What’s going on?”
He couldn’t shake the feeling that his sister asked him here today to confide something in him—and changed her mind.
“I told you, I’m fine,” she snapped, pulling free. “I just need to get to the car and sit down for a minute. The heat.” She blew out a breath and fanned herself, stepping away to head for her car and driver waiting at the curb. “I’ll call you later,” she said over her shoulder, her pace increasing as if she couldn’t wait to get away from him. “Thank you for meeting me here.”
Alex swore under his breath, wondering what he’d done. Nothing. They hadn’t even spoken two words from the time he’d met her in the Weddings Your Way lobby. It wasn’t him this time, he told himself. She was upset about something else. Being forced to change the date of the wedding?
He saw her look around as if she’d been expecting someone. Her fiancé?
Where was he anyway? Why hadn’t he met Caroline here? Alex had the feeling she’d been expecting him. Maybe that’s what had her upset—the fact that he hadn’t showed.
Alex had yet to meet his sister’s soon-to-be-husband but he already disliked him based simply on the man’s name: Preston Wellington III. He, no doubt, was a clone of their brother, Brian, which meant that once Caroline married him she would be spending most of her life never seeing him. Just as they had hardly ever seen their father. He was always too busy making more money to spend any time with them. Alex couldn’t bear to think what his sister’s life would be like. He’d wanted more for her.
He sighed and started after her, hoping he could change her mind about leaving. Maybe they could go somewhere, have a cool drink, talk.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a white limo pull up to the curb behind his sister’s car. He slowed, thinking it was probably the missing Preston Wellington III.
The driver got out to open the rear door. An attractive dark-haired young woman stepped out onto the curb. Caroline had stopped as if she also thought the limo contained someone she knew.
And then everything happened too fast. At first Alex heard rather than saw the commotion that ensued. He turned as a black limo pulled up behind the white one. Two men leaped from the rear doors. They grabbed the woman who’d just exited the limo in front of them. Her driver tried to fight them off but was knocked to the ground as they dragged the woman to the open doors of the black limo.
Alex charged across the lawn toward the two men who’d shoved the woman into the backseat of the waiting black limo and jumped in after her. The limo engine roared, then to Alex’s horror, the large black car jumped the curb as if aiming directly for the woman’s limo driver who was still on the ground.
The driver managed to roll out of the way as the limo shot toward Alex. He yelled to Caroline as he dived aside, hitting the ground and rolling, coming up in time to see that the speeding car had turned and was aimed directly at his sister.
Caroline seemed frozen to the spot. He let out a howl of anguish as he heard the limo hit her, her body flying off to the side.
The dark limo had no rear license plate and the windows were too tinted to see inside as it crashed between two cars at the curb and sped off down the street. Everything had happened so fast, he didn’t even get a good look at the two men who’d taken the woman.
“Caroline. Oh God, Caroline.” Alex was on his feet, running to where she was slumped on the grass. He dropped to the ground next to his sister and felt for a pulse with one hand as he fumbled out his cell phone and dialed 911 with the other. “Oh, Caroline,” he whispered as he brushed her hair back from her beautiful face.
He felt a hand on his shoulder but it wasn’t until later that he recalled the feel of the woman’s touch, let alone remembered her name. Samantha Peters.
INSIDE THE SPEEDING black limo, the man in the back made the call. “We’ve got the girl,” he said when the phone was picked up at the other end.
There was no reply. Just a soft click. In the backseat Sonya Botero’s eyes fluttered.
“Give her more of the drug,” the man ordered. “I don’t want her waking up.”
He leaned back and closed his eyes. The job hadn’t come off as clean as he’d planned. Unfortunately, he’d left loose ends, he thought glancing back.
CRAIG JOHNSON SAT on the grass in front of Weddings Your Way and watched the black limo disappear down the street, tires squealing and engine roaring.
The limo driver-bodyguard was too shocked to move. The blow to his head had left him dazed but not so dazed that he didn’t realize what had just happened.
The men had taken the woman he’d been hired to protect
