by Kara Lennox
Desperate times call for desperate measures…
And Travis Riggs is way past desperate. With time running out to overturn his brother’s wrongful murder conviction and stop his niece’s adoption, Project Justice is Travis’s last hope. But when his request for an interview is denied, he resorts to drastic measures—kidnapping the founder’s personal assistant, Elena Marquez.
Travis hadn’t planned for any of this to happen, least of all the chemistry between him and Elena. Under different circumstances, they may have had a chance at a relationship. However, the last thing he wants is to drag her down with him, which is exactly what will happen if he accepts her help. Not that Elena is giving him much of a choice….
Travis enjoyed the playful conversation way more than he should have
It was almost as if they were on a first date…flirting. With each snippet Elena revealed about herself, his admiration for her grew.
He suddenly wished he had met her at some other point in his life, instead of this desperate moment. When was the last time he’d flirted with a woman? Had to be Judith.
Had he ever even known what it felt like to simply enjoy the company of a woman? He’d spent his youth staying alive, keeping his brother on track. Then there was the army, prison, his business…and Judith. Nothing about his ex-wife had been simple. Every encounter with her had been fraught with the stress of trying to meet her expectations.
His heart ached unexpectedly with what could never be—not with Elena, and probably not with anyone. By the time he got out of prison this time, he’d be an old man, and Elena would be married to someone else with a houseful of children, even grandchildren.
Another Project Justice story where fighting injustice can lead to finding love!
Dear Reader,
Being kidnapped would have to be in my top five fears. Maybe I’ve watched too many serial killer true crime shows. But I wanted to do a book where the heroine was kidnapped, tapping into my own primal emotions.
The kidnapping romance plot is an oldie but a goodie; the trick is to make it fresh for modern readers. I chose to place most of my focus on what happens after the hostage situation ends. How do two people who had such an unpromising start ever forge a relationship?
I have to give credit to my feisty heroine, Elena, for going after what she wants despite everyone in her world telling her she’s wrong. I’m not sure I’d be as determined, or as forgiving. But then, if I wrote about a heroine who was me, it might not make a very good book. (I don’t have much drama in my life!)
Hope you enjoy Elena's and Travis’s adventure!
Kara Lennox
In This Together
Kara Lennox
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kara Lennox has earned her living at various times as an art director, typesetter, textbook editor and reporter. She’s worked in a boutique, a health club and an ad agency. She’s been an antiques dealer, an artist and even a blackjack dealer. But no work has ever made her happier than writing romance novels. To date, she has written more than sixty books. Kara is a recent transplant to Southern California. When not writing, she indulges in an ever-changing array of hobbies. Her latest passions are bird-watching, long-distance bicycling, vintage jewelry and, by necessity, do-it-yourself home renovation. She loves to hear from readers. You can find her at www.karalennox.com.
Books by Kara Lennox
HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE
1689—TAKEN TO THE EDGE#
1695—NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH#
1701—A SCORE TO SETTLE#
1767—OUTSIDE THE LAW#
1779—FOR JUST CAUSE#
1791—HIDDEN AGENDA#
1862—ONE-NIGHT ALIBI#
HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE
1068—HOMETOWN HONEY*
1081—DOWNTOWN DEBUTANTE*
1093—OUT OF TOWN BRIDE*
1146—THE FAMILY RESCUE**
1150—HER PERFECT HERO**
1154—AN HONORABLE MAN**
1180—ONE STUBBORN TEXAN
1195—GOOD HUSBAND MATERIAL
1216—RELUCTANT PARTNERS***
1240—THE PREGNANCY SURPRISE***
1256—THE GOOD FATHER***
#Project Justice
*Blond Justice
**Firehouse 59
***Second Sons
Other titles by this author available in ebook format.
For my writing support/brainstorming group: Tessa Dare, Laura Drake and Susan Squires. You all have no idea how much you inspire me.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
TRAVIS RIGGS LOOKED up at the imposing wrought-iron gate, and for the first time in his life he knew what the word awe truly meant. Who the hell had a gate like this? Who needed a gate like this? What was Daniel Logan protecting? This ostentatious show of wealth didn’t jibe with the Daniel Logan he’d heard about, the one who’d spent six years on death row for a murder he didn’t commit, the one who’d devoted his life to helping other men and women who’d been falsely convicted of serious crimes.
He wondered if this was some wild-goose chase.
Still, Travis had come too far to turn back. Whoever Daniel Logan was, he was the last hope for saving Eric. Travis had put on his best shirt and his newest pair of jeans, the ones that weren’t yet paint spattered. His work boots weren’t exactly classy, but it was that or beat-up athletic shoes. He didn’t have much call for dressing up in his normal life.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed the buzzer.
“Yes, may I help you?” The husky female voice was unexpected. Whoever she was, she had an accent, not strong but exotic nonetheless. A picture came into his mind of a sultry Spanish flamenco dancer.
“Yes, my name is Travis Riggs. I’ve come to see Daniel Logan.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, I’m sorry, I don’t.” Every time he thought about his unsuccessful phone calls to Project Justice, his blood boiled. I’m sorry, you’ll have to fill out the online form. No matter what he said, he got the same response. Even when he’d gone in person to the foundation’s physical address in downtown Houston, he still couldn’t get anywhere. An elderly dragon of a woman had barred his way and insisted the online form was the only method open to him.
“I’m very sorry,” the flamenco dancer said, “but Mr. Logan’s schedule is full. To see him, you have to have an appointment.”
“I tried to make an appointment.” Travis kept a death grip on his temper. “But they kept telling me I had to go online and fill out a form.”
“Oh...you’re here because of Project Justice?”
“Yes, ma’am.” If he could just keep the mystery woman from cutting him off, he was sure he could talk his way through this impenetrable gate. He was hopeless with online forms, but he could be very persuasive with women. Younger ones, anyway.
; “So, may I ask why you didn’t fill out the form?”
“I did. At least, I think I did.” He’d gone to the public library to use their computer, but computer skills weren’t his strong suit. “I got stuck in a loop that kept taking me back to the same page, and then I kept getting these error messages...” By the time his thirty minutes were up, he’d been ready to bash his head through the computer screen. He’d hit the submit button, but he still wasn’t sure exactly what he’d submitted.
“I’m sorry you had such a bad experience.” The funny thing was she actually sounded like she was sorry. “Maybe you could get someone to help you?”
Like who? All of his many friends? He’d pretty much lost touch with everybody he’d ever been close to, except Eric. Eric was the one constant in his life. And he was not going to abandon his cause. Ever.
“With all due respect, ma’am, I’ve kind of run out of options. I’m up against a deadline. My brother’s going to lose his little girl.” Travis realized then there was a security camera above him. The woman with the sexy voice was probably watching his every move, yet he had no idea what she looked like.
“You have a friend or loved one who is in prison?” she asked, sounding curious.
“Yes, ma’am. My little brother, Eric. I can promise you on a stack of Bibles he didn’t do it. He would never kill his wife. He loved her. He never raised a hand to her, and he certainly would never do what they said he did.”
“Has he exhausted his appeals? Is he on death row?”
“He was sentenced to life in prison without parole. And he’s still appealing—but like I said, he’s about to lose his daughter. She’s going to be adopted by her horrid foster parents. MacKenzie is the only link he has to Tammy. I have to do something. It’s not fair.”
Travis had intended to keep his emotions out of it. But every time he thought about MacKenzie moving on to new parents, calling some other people Mommy and Daddy, his throat closed up and his eyes burned. Eric had been the best father in the world. From the time baby MacKenzie had come home from the hospital, Eric had changed her diapers and fed her, helped with 2:00 a.m. feedings, gone with Tammy to take the baby for doctor visits. The sun had risen and set with that little girl. And now he couldn’t even see her, except for sporadic and very brief visits with a glass partition between them.
“Just a minute,” Ms. Sexy Voice said. “I will talk to Mr. Logan and see if he can spare a few minutes. Your brother is Eric? Eric Riggs?”
“Yes.” She probably recognized the case. The entire trial had been televised on some cable station.
“Please be patient. Sometimes it takes a while to pin Daniel down to a conversation.”
Travis would be patient. He would stand outside this house all day and all night if he had to. But somebody had to listen to him.
* * *
ELENA MARQUEZ TURNED OFF the mic, but she continued to regard their visitor on the monitor. He was a man of uncommon handsomeness—not like a pretty-boy movie star, but more like a cowboy riding the fences—dark, glossy hair, rugged, tanned. A face of harsh planes and angles that somehow fit together pleasingly.
But the world was full of handsome men. It was the emotion in his voice—and on his face—that moved her. Normally, if some stranger came to the gate, security turned them away—period. Daniel Logan, with his extreme wealth, was a target for all kinds of kooks and terrorists. Today, however, Elena was sitting in for their regular security guy while he was on his lunch break. They were short staffed; it was holiday season, and the flu was running rampant among the employees. She’d just gotten over it herself.
She would talk to Daniel.
Abandoning her post by the front-gate monitor, she made her way through the house to the elevator, then descended to Daniel’s lair. That’s what everyone called it. Down here he had his office, which looked something like NASA’s Mission Control. He sat in the middle of a horseshoe-shaped desk he’d had custom-made out of some exotic wood. A minimum of three computers lined up on the desk. Then he had TV screens all around on the walls, tuned to the news and weather channels. And he always had at least three or four cell phones—why anyone needed to have that many, she wasn’t sure. He only had one mouth, but she supposed he could text with one, talk with another and check email with the third.
When he wanted to take a break, he had his own fully equipped workout room. There was even a dining patio with faux sunlight that looked as if it could have been transported from a Tuscan sidewalk café.
Daniel’s commanding voice drifted toward her as she strode down the hall. “I can see this is something I have to take care of myself. Give me an hour.” He sounded thoroughly vexed about something, so this probably wasn’t the best time to approach him with a request. But what choice did she have?
He was hanging up the phone as she rounded the corner and tapped on his open office door. “Daniel, can I have a word with you?”
“You can have ten words, as long as you can walk and talk at the same time.” He stood and went to the antique armoire in the corner, where he had several sets of clothes on hangers—suits, tennis clothes, polo clothes. He grabbed one of the suits at random, pulled it out and hung it on the door. Then he started peeling his clothes off.
Elena was used to this sort of thing from him. She turned around and faced the wall. “Is something wrong?” Dumb question, Elena. Of course something was wrong. And she’d just wasted three of her ten words. She never knew if Daniel was serious about things like that. She’d always had a hard time deciphering his dry sense of humor.
“You could say that. There’s a possible leak in Reactor Number Four.”
“Oh, no.” That was all Daniel needed—some kind of radioactive leak in the new power plant Logan Oil had recently acquired. Logan Energy, she reminded herself. The corporation had changed its name as it refocused on alternate forms of energy.
“I’m almost positive it’s an equipment malfunction and not an actual leak,” he said, more to himself than her. “But it’s something I feel the need to micromanage.”
“Understandable. But, Daniel, there’s a man here who really needs to talk to you.”
“You’ll have to reschedule his appointment. Is it that guy about the intern program?”
“No, he’s coming later. This man doesn’t have an appointment. But—”
“They why are we even talking about him? Tell him to make an appointment.”
“He tried, but apparently the online form tripped him up, and Daniel, he seems so desperate. I feel you should listen to him.”
“Desperate about what? You can turn around.”
She did. He was in the process of tucking a crisp white shirt into his suit pants. Without being asked, she searched in the bottom of the armoire for an appropriate pair of shoes. It was one of the things she was good at—anticipating his needs. She enjoyed her job, but it was demanding, and she was always glad that, at the end of the workday, she could clock out and his wife, Jamie, could take over. Not that he ordered Jamie around the way he did Elena.
“His brother is in prison for killing his wife, and—”
“This is about Project Justice? Did you tell him to go online—”
“He said he’s done that. But he had trouble with the form, and there’s a deadline involved—”
“Death row?” Daniel knotted his tie without even using a mirror.
“No. Life in prison. But—”
“An impending execution is the only excuse for anybody not going through the proper channels. Elena, you know the rules. Frankly, I’m surprised that you’re bothering me with this.”
She felt properly chastised. But if Daniel could just talk to him for five minutes... Okay, she was pulling out the big guns. “I’d consider it a personal favor.” She didn’t ask him for much. He worked her hard, but he also paid her well and demo
nstrated his concern for her well-being every day.
That made Daniel stop. “Elena. I can’t today. This isn’t an ordinary crisis. If we can’t get the new power plant on line, on schedule, it will cost us millions of dollars. And if this is more than a gauge malfunction—well, it could be a lot worse.”
Logan Energy’s foray into alternative energies was a gamble, but Daniel thought it unwise to keep all his eggs in the fossil fuel basket. He wanted to do his part to reduce carbon emissions, too. Naturally he was more anxious than usual.
“Tell this man that if he can’t manage the form on his own—though frankly a trained monkey could do it—he can ask for assistance. If someone really needs Project Justice’s help, they’ll persevere.” With that, Daniel strode toward the stairs, leaving her in his wake. “Call Randall and have him get the Town Car ready.”
Clearly this conversation was over.
She hated the thought of going back to Travis Riggs and telling him that a meeting with Daniel was impossible. It made her boss sound so unfeeling, when really he wasn’t. He just had so many demands on his time that he couldn’t accommodate everyone; he had to set priorities.
Well, Elena wasn’t going to give Travis the bad news over the intercom. That was just too cold. She understood what it was like to be desperate. At a tender age, she’d experienced the real risk of her father going to prison simply for speaking his mind. How much worse must it have been for Eric Riggs’s little girl to lose her father to incarceration?
Brandon, one of Daniel’s security guys, had come back from lunch, and now she could take her lunch hour. She threw a blazer on over her dress and exited the house through the massive front door. She made her way down the driveway, belatedly recalling that cobblestones and high heels didn’t mix very well. She ended up taking off her shoes and walking in her bare feet. As she approached, she saw he was still standing there. How long would he have waited?
* * *
TRAVIS WAS GETTING himself worked up. Who did this guy think he was, making him stand at the gates like this, not even letting him onto the property? Travis wasn’t some criminal planning to steal the silverware.