Damien knew damn well who she was. He remembered her just as much as she remembered him. He remembered the gut-wrenching fear that overtook her on that dark deserted road just as well as she remembered the swirling feeling of dread that pooled in her stomach when she watched her assassin's finger curl slowly around the trigger. When she closed her eyes, her frantically throbbing pulse and the cold tip of the gun that had been pressed to the back of her head, were the only things she felt.
The two dead bodies. Blood splattering on her clothes… Damien had stood there with her and now, he was standing in front of her once more.
Becca quickly snapped out of the reverie when she felt herself slowly drifting away. But for a moment or more, the distress had been perceptible on her features. She hoped Damien hadn't seen it, despite being in front of her. Fortunately, the lights didn't completely illuminate the large terrace and the area where they stood was still quite dim.
