1 If Darcy Jensen had known she was going to be kidnapped, she would have worn better shoes. Or at least more sensible shoes. As it was she’d dressed in black strappy sandals that weren’t all that comfortable for walking, let alone being dragged across a parking lot and thrown into the back of a van. She did her best to resist. Screaming was out of the question because they’d already gagged her. And the resisting part went badly, what with her hands tied behind her back, although she did nail one guy with a decent head butt. Even as she landed hard on the metal floor of the van, she wondered how it all had happened. She’d been in Ann Taylor checking out the new clothes for fall. She’d told Drew she needed to use the restroom. Traveling with two Secret Service agents meant rarely using a public restroom. Drew had consulted with the manager of the store, who was all too happy to have the president of the United States’ daughter peeing in her private bathroom. Darcy had done her business, washed her hands—not only because she always did, but also because people checked on things like that when one was in the public eye—and had started back through the stockroom toward the dressing rooms, where she had a pile of clothes waiting for her. That’s when the men attacked. Four