It wasn't a race, but Marissa had her own standards, and as her watch beeped, she knew she was right on track. Summertime in Georgia was no joke. The day was already reaching the mid nineties at just shy of ten in the morning. Marissa panted and gasped up a particularly steep incline, her eyes to the ground as she worked her way up. You wouldn't think it to look at her, but this had become her favorite part of the run. At the crest of the hill, Marissa stopped and paced in circles, hands on hips, chest heaving with every quick, panting breath. She'd stopped in front of a gorgeous Colonial style home. A wide, square-columned, covered porch invited residents and guests alike to take a break in any of its several rocking chairs. A magnolia anchored the left side of the house, cleverly hiding the driveway and garage. Flowers rioted in a number of beds from the porch to the street. It was a lovely home, really. Still, it wasn't the architecture that held her attention. On the right side. ’ Becca's gut clenched and she considered trying to escape, but Dimtri was an experienced killer and she doubted she would ever make it to the door. Bracing herself to bluff it out, she remained calm, waiting for him to pronounce her fate. His gaze had dropped, as if what he was about to say was unpleasant.“This is hard for me. But I must apologize. I was incredibly thoughtless and can only hope you will forgive my grave insult to you.”Becca froze as she processed his words. Instead of the accusation she expected, his sudden contrition caught her completely off guard. “Why Dimitri,thank you for your concern but I can't imagine why you should apologize.”“And when you left here last night, where did you go, eh? You went to meet a man, yes?”Yes, Becca did go meet a man, a man who happened to be the one she loved. If Dimitri had discovered that… “It was just another client. Why should that be a problem?”Dimitri leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “Rebecca, I saved you from.
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