loor. Flushed face. Shallow, ragged breathing. Bare feet.

least two men. Their voices carried through the door, muffle

or. The men were hunting her. A drugged, barefoot woman with a fresh br

a private elevator by two men in suits. He told himself it wasn't his problem. He finished his drink and walked away.

nd lifted the wom

in hot through the fabric of her dress.

low. The night stretched. Harlon stayed in the armchair by the window, replacing the compress ev

men's clothes, size small.

ht cut through

as wrinkled and stained but intact. Fragments of the night before crashed ba

oo fast. Her

l off, shirtsleeves rolled to his forearms. He saw her awake and gave a slight

ice scraped out of he

he nightstand. "You were drugged. You

ng. He walked to the window. "Mother.

word. "...final deadline... you must bring a woman home within three days.

ilence in the room was suddenly he

. Three days. He n

she said. "Yo

on Gr

ght running from one Grant and had somehow ended up in

one shut the subject cl

etely defenseless. He needed a wife within three days, before his family forced one

u need a wife. I need

crack. Surprise, quickly masked. "

n't want." She sat up straighter, ignoring the pounding in her skull. "A contract marriage. We don't interfere in each other's l

ised. Barefoot. Eyes clea

she'll have an agenda. I don't. I just wan

. Then a singl

dressed. My assistant will have the docum

chair. Inside was a dress-simple, e

ked into the gala a disposable placeholder. N