The Runaway Bride And The Disabled Billionaire

e wall was solid. A tire iron on a workbench ten feet away-an impossible reach. She

rip tightening. He lowered his head, his

hump-thu

ythmic knocks echoed

d snapping up. "Who

r side. "Mr. Travis, my name is Reid Foster. I'm

ed. He shot Ana a

e had said she was sending someone. The relief tha

peephole. He saw a single man in an impeccably tailo

employer?"

ness card through the gap. "I believe this will suffice.

He glanced at it, his eyes widening slightly at the name embossed in silver foil: GR

voice came again, s

le was, annoying him was a bigger risk than let

on, he threw the main loc

aze passed over Cory, dismissing

light, respectful nod. "If y

n. As she passed Cory, she didn't even glance at him. A single, glaci

as a black Bentley Mulsanne, its paint so deep it seemed to absorb the st

ing at Reid. "Is

ed neutral. "My employer

alled in a serious

er friend had access to this kind of

shed, replaced by a cocoon of soft leather and absolute silence. The

in the opp

a carved jawline, dark hair swept back from a high forehead. His eyes, when the

ttons undone, the cuffs rolled to his elbows

A dark cashmere blanke

off guard. Well. Tha

ething y

, smooth, and col

e her brain caught up. "

ed. Caught. Gapi

. "I'm sorry. I thought this was my friend's car. You have the

't move. The lo

l even but with a new edge of wariness. "My friend has a Bentley. Sa

the obvious, brutish way Cory was dangerous-this was some

iver. "Could you unl

the rearview mirror, then bac

ed and Reid Foster slid into the front seat. He turned,

e a single nod. His eye

e. His voice was a low, resonan

tasia