She was too late. The door on Rowan’s side was pulled open, and the man grabbed her and pulled her out so fast and with such violence that her head spun. He was shouting at her in Spanish, but she couldn’t make any sense of it. Then the other man arrived. He grabbed her too, and said roughly, ‘Habla español?’
She shook her head again, to try and clear it. He took that as a no.
‘Stupido—Hernán said she’s English. She doesn’t speak Spanish. Get the kid.’
Rowan forced her mind to clear. Sheer primal protectiveness came to the fore and gave her courage. She made for the other side of the Jeep and Zac, babbling in English. She knew she’d have an advantage if they thought she didn’t understand them.
She got to the door before they did. She ranted in English. It worked. The two men looked at her, and then she heard them say, ‘Let her take the kid. What does it matter? I don’t want to hold a screaming brat, do you?’
The other one grunted and gestured for Rowan to open the door. She did. Her hands were shaking so much that it took an age to undo Zac’s straps and lift him out. She grabbed his bag too, in a moment of blinding clarity. Zac sensed the tension immediately and started to whimper.
The men shoved her roughly and moved her towards the other car. Everything happened in terrifying slow motion, and yet conversely so fast that before Rowan knew it one of the men had frisked her and she was sitting in the back of the car, arms firmly wrapped around Zac. Rowan’s flesh still crawled from where the man had felt her bottom.
One of them put a secure blindfold over her eyes. They then got into the front and started the engine, pulling away with a screech of tyres. She couldn’t let herself be scared. Think, think, think. She repeated the words like a mantra. The phone. She had to find it and call Isandro somehow. If she didn’t it would be hours before the alarm might be raised. She just prayed that it wouldn’t ring. She shushed and settled Zac securely into her chest, and then with a free hand started to feel for the bag. She found it—and felt a big hand over hers, stopping her. Her heart thudded painfully.
‘Water!’ she said urgently. ‘Water for my baby.’
‘It’s okay—she just wants water. Let her get it.’
The hand left hers and Rowan searched. She found the water instantly, and then searched for the phone. About to give up hope, and fearful that the man would take the bag and get the water himself, finally she found it. She could have wept with relief. It was so small she could tuck it into her palm behind the bottle.
When she could feel that Zac had taken the bottle in his hands himself, she surreptitiously moved her hand behind him, to hide what she was doing. The men were talking now, arguing. Rowan used their preoccupation. She felt for where she thought the first digit would be. Then she pressed it, and racked her brain for where the call button had been.
With no idea if she was doing anything right, she pressed a button just as she felt the car slowing, then turning onto what she guessed was a motorway as their speed duly increased. She used the moment to throw the phone back into the baby bag. Was it her imagination or had she heard someone’s voice, distant but there? Rowan knew that if she had got through to Isandro this might be her only chance, so she leant forward and said loudly in Spanish, ‘Why are you kidnapping us? Where are you taking us? Why did you knock Hernán out? He could be badly hurt—you should call an ambulance …’
There was silence for a second, and then mayhem. She sensed the blow before it came, but it still snapped her head sideways. ‘She speaks Spanish!’
Zac started to cry again, and Rowan calmed him down, knowing that their patience was less than thin.
One of them shouted back, ‘We’re taking you away for a while, to give your rich husband time to think about how much you’re worth. And once we have you …’ He mentioned in lurid detail what they would do to her, and Rowan blanked her mind. It was the only way. Thankfully Zac seemed to have quietened; she could feel him heavy against her chest. Tears pricked her eyes. She couldn’t believe this. If anything happened to Zac … She vowed that it wouldn’t. They would have to step over her dead body first.
After what seemed like hours over potholed roads they stopped. Rowan knew they’d been climbing in altitude because her ears had popped. One of the men pulled her from the car and ripped off her blindfold. She blinked painfully. Zac was a dead weight, mercifully asleep.
‘No harm you seeing where we are now, because, querida, it’s too remote to worry about.’
He shoved her in front of him towards a small stone shack. It was up on the top of a mountain, and there was literally nothing else in sight but craggy peaks.