deep, controlled voice made so

she was. Which meant thi

he demanded. "Wh

at her. He addressed the front of t

ror. "Ms. Koch. My name is Reid Foster. This is my employer, Mr. Grant C

ackage. The clinical t

name meant nothing. "I don't k

ze unwavering. "I didn't help you," he said,

ered. "A debt? I've never

d the raw, red scrapes on her palms. "Not a monetary debt,"

her speechless. She searched her mem

t under

never m

back to the window. An impenetrab

ilence. The Bentley finally glided to a stop in front

instant, opening her door. "You have

e. She scrambled out of the c

tending to demand an explan

got back into the car, and the Bentley pulled away, i

reet in a rumpled evening gown, with no money

building's ornate canopy, she walked over. "Excuse me,

her distress, reluct

e frantic. "Ana! Oh my God, are you okay? Th

r now." She quickly recounted the bizarre events-Reid F

her voice suddenly sharp. "Wh

rlisle,"

ilence on the othe

? Are yo

r tone a mixture of awe and disbelie

o you kn

ing you the address and the keypad code to my place in the Villa

reaction only de

up at the impassive face of the luxury building, then

ing, who claimed she had saved his life, and who had