“I deserve to find happiness.” Kinley forced herself to take a deep breath as she paced the floor in her white, four-inch Manolo Blahniks. “Greg will be my happiness and my joy.”

The room responded with an echo of utter silence. Yeah, no one believed that, not even the walls.

Was this how she would spend the rest of her life? Would she wake every morning and try to convince herself that she was happy and fulfilled? Since she was a kid, she and Annabelle had a ritual before big events like Christmas, birthdays, and big dates. They would get together and hold hands and wish out loud for their dreams to come true.

Tears threatened as she remembered the last time they had done it. It had been at her mother’s bedside. Annabelle had flown home from Chicago. She’d beaten Becks to the hospital, despite the fact that her sister lived only a few miles away at the time. It was a silly ritual, a daydream between young girls. It hadn’t saved her mother’s life, and it wasn’t going to work today. But when Annabelle had taken her hand, she’d wanted so desperately to believe that magic could work.

Kinley sighed at herself. Wishing for happiness and joy and love was futile now. It was time to grow up.

A brisk knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts. “Room service.”

That was quick. Still, how could she possibly eat now? She could barely move in this dress. All these sad thoughts were killing her appetite… But it would be rude to send the food away when Annabelle had gone to the trouble of ordering it.

She made her way across the suite. It was very likely a long way here from the kitchens.

Tip. He would want a tip. Oh, she hoped she had some cash.

Why hadn’t Annabelle come back? Must be a long phone call with Kellan.

Kinley opened the door, ready to graciously thank the worker, accept the food, and send him away. But the sight that greeted her stunned her mute.

The two most gorgeous men she’d ever laid eyes on stood in the hallway, a large cart between them. Something was off about that cart, but she couldn’t stop staring at the men long enough to figure it out.

Tall, with broad shoulders ready to burst out of their white jackets. The one closest to her had to be six and a half feet tall. He had a military cut of pitch-black hair and the most arresting blue eyes she’d ever seen. She wouldn’t really describe his face as beautiful. He was far too masculine for that. There was something savage about him that belied his formal tuxedo-like uniform.

“Miss Kohl? May we come in?” Though the words were spoken more like a growl and a rumble, they were so very polite.

And for some insane reason, that voice felt like a caress to her skin. He could make love to a woman with that voice—and if she wasn’t about to walk down the aisle to meet Greg, she’d probably let him.

“Yeah.” Her own words came out in a breathy little puff. She forced herself to look at Hottie Number Two.

He was an inch shorter than big brother—and there was no question they were brothers. It was in the set of their eyes and the identical coloring, but after that, they differed. The shorter one looked slightly younger, as though the world hadn’t weighed him down as heavily as his brother. There was the beginning of a truly gorgeous smile on his face.

“Miss? It’s hard for us to move into your room when you’re standing in the doorway.” Hottie Number Two couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You don’t want your food to get cold, do you?”

How could anything possibly get cold when they were around? She actually felt a stifling heat. Except for her feet. Her feet were ice cold—at least metaphorically. Not only did she not want to meet Greg at the end of the aisle, but she’d rather find herself in between these two men in a totally inappropriate position.

She flushed and stepped back, allowing them into the room. Her runaway thoughts were all Annabelle’s fault. She joked about being in love with three guys and refusing to choose. She’d told Kinley that she would have them all or they simply wouldn’t have her.

She’d been joking, surely. But Belle had planted an interesting notion in Kinley’s head…

“Where do you want it, sweetheart?” Hottie Two asked.

She could think of several places that she wanted it, each more inappropriate than the last. But that probably wasn’t what they meant. Even so, Kinley got totally flustered because all she could think about was the man’s lips. They were full and sensual, and she couldn’t help but wonder how he would kiss.

“The tray. I meant the tray.” Those lips were curved up in a knowing smile.

Embarrassment flooded her. If they could read her thoughts, she’d die. “By the window, please.”

She needed to pull her damn self together and stop being an idiot. And her heels were already killing her. She stepped gingerly around the couch and reached for her purse. She pulled out a ten.

“This light must be bothering you.” Hottie One was standing at the windows. The view was spectacular, but he made quick work of the first set of blinds, closing them and blocking out the afternoon light.

“Not at all.” She liked the view.

The man slid the second set of drapes closed. “I think you’ll like it better if you know prying eyes can’t see in.”

“Prying eyes?” Kinley asked. “Why would anyone want to look at me?”

Hottie One turned and pinned her with his stare. He was so much more serious than his brother. She could tell it by the set of his mouth. This was a man who almost never found anything to smile about. “Because you’re lovely.”

Tears threatened. They perched right there, making the world watery. She wasn’t lovely. She was too fat and her eyes were a muddy brown instead of Becks’s spectacular green. Even though she was only twenty-five, her breasts probably sagged a little. Nothing about her face was remarkable.

But when the man told her she was lovely in that low rumble, she almost believed him.

Greg never said a thing about her beyond the fact that she would be a good business asset to him. He would never find her lovely.

“Are you all right, Miss Kohl?” Hottie Two asked, his expression graver than before.

Yes, she was rapidly making a complete fool of herself. She gave them her brightest smile, the one she used on the snootiest society ladies and men who thought she didn’t have a brain in her head. “Of course. Here. Thank you so much.”

She held out the ten-dollar bill. As she did, her stare fixed on the cart they’d pushed in. It was far larger than normal. At least twice as large and three times as tall. There were two silver trays on top, but no glasses and no silverware.

“Miss Kohl,” the one with the unsmiling eyes began.

A little thrill of fear spiked up her spine. Something was wrong. “That’s not a delivery tray.”

What they had rolled in was made of canvas. She could see it plainly now.

“No. It’s not,” the second man agreed. He took a step toward her.

Kinley backed up. “That’s a laundry hamper.”

It was the industrial kind used in hotels. Why had they brought her food on a laundry hamper? Except there wasn’t actually any food because that would have come with silverware and glassware, not two silver covers that she could now see weren’t actually covering anything at all.

“Don’t scream, sweetheart. We’re not here to hurt you.” The second man was inching his way toward her.

Holy crap! Then what were they going to do?

Kinley wasn’t about to obey them. She opened her mouth and let out a long shout as she turned on her heels and sprinted for the door.

At least she meant to sprint for the door. Unfortunately, she tripped on the stupidly long train of her dress and fell to her knees. She scrambled, her heart pounding. Get up!She had to. Kinley had no idea what these men wanted, but she wasn’t about to give it to them.

An arm wound around her waist, and she was pulled back against a hard body. She screamed again, but this time a hand clapped over her mouth.

Did they mean to rob her? Rape her? Kill her? God, was this really happening? Tears overflowed.

The first man, the really big one, stepped in front of her. “It’s all right, Kinley. We’re going to take care of you.”

Yes. It looked like they were going to take care of her—by burying her somewhere or tying her feet to cinder blocks and dropping her in the ocean. She’d watched enough ID TV to know what came next.

She tried to sink her teeth into the hand that covered her mouth. He cursed, and she managed to gain a tiny bit of purchase, but otherwise, he held tight.

“She’s fucking biting me, Law,” he hissed.

A smile crept across the face of the one called Law. It looked rusty from disuse, but when he smiled, his eyes lit up. “Good for her, Ry. I told you she was stronger than you thought. Baby, you have to stop fighting us or I’ll have to do something I’d rather not. I want to talk to you. I want to explain everything.”

He wanted to explain how he was going to rape and murder her? She bit down harder. The arm around her waist tightened, but the hand never moved.

“Goddamn it, Law. She’s about to take a fucking piece out of my hand. She’s got two of the fingers I type with,” he snarled. “Take her out or I will.”

Law stepped up, and she noticed the needle he was carrying. Nothing scared her more than that. She stopped biting the hand over her mouth and tried to scramble away. She couldn’t be unconscious. She couldn’t be at their mercy.

Kinley kicked back, desperate to escape their hold.

The mass of muscle behind her didn’t move an inch.

Law looked down at her, those blue eyes of his filled with some unnamed emotion. He reached out for her with an odd tenderness as he smoothed back her hair. “I will take care of you, baby.”

She shook her head frantically, but that needle hit her arm anyway. It went right through her silk gown and sank into her flesh.

“Go to sleep now,” he whispered.

Almost immediately, the world began to turn hazy, her vision fading from the periphery in. Her muscles went soft, her knees weakening. But she didn’t hit the floor. Ry picked her up, lifting her into his arms as he started across the room.

“Gently,” Law said as he pulled the top off the laundry cart and shoved it to the side. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

No matter how hard Kinley tried to stay alert, she couldn’t fight the drug anymore. Her whole body went limp, held up only by Ry’s strong arms. As her mind floated, she had the vague thought that it was nice. She’d never been held like this before. She was too big. She would probably kill his back. She opened her mouth to protest, but nothing would come out. Her eyes slid shut.

“I’ll take care of her,” Ry promised, holding her close.

He lowered her down as the world went dark.

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