Snowbound - Harlequin.com

242 SNOWBOUND
stiff with anger and wounded pride, and knew he’d
ignore this e-mail, just as he had her last one. The door
was already open.
But he wouldn’t be coming through it. That’s what
hurt so badly.
She hadn’t cried over him in a long time, and she
didn’t tonight, but she did go to bed feeling sad and extraordinarily
bleak.
JOHN HAD BEEN taken aback when his sister leaped at his
invitation, confirmed that he had empty rooms the very
next weekend and showed up midafternoon that Friday.
Their older sister looked more like their mother. Both
John and Liz took after their father, with dark hair and
brown eyes. Liz possessed an innate sense of style,
although he knew well that it was careless; she rarely
expended much time or thought on what she wore, and
yet she never went out the door looking less than chic.
Unlike Fiona, she’d brought only a small bag. John
knew his sister well enough to guess that she was
unlikely to step outside until she left to go home. Like
a pampered house cat, Liz hated being cold or wet, and
her idea of enjoying nature was admiring autumn colors
from the comfort of her snazzy Nissan 350Z. She
always had a cute, sporty car, usually leased so she
could move on to a new one every couple of years.
He grinned at the sight of her picking her way
gingerly across the wet grass in high-heeled, completely
inappropriate boots. Waiting at the top of the steps,
shoulder propped against the post, he said, “You know
I live out in the woods.”