Project: Runaway Bride. Heidi BettsЧитать онлайн книгу.
missing, she assumed.
But even though she knew her family must be worried sick, and the frequent ringing and beeping of her phone had driven her almost batty, she hadn’t bothered to check missed calls or listen to messages. She hadn’t even taken the time to turn the phone off until she’d been on the road and well away from Manhattan.
Instead, she’d hurried back to the loft she shared with her sisters, ignoring the strange looks she received from random strangers for racing around in public in her full-skirted, custom-made fairy-princess bridal gown, and grabbed her phone, money and a single change of clothes. She hadn’t known where she was going or how long she’d be gone, but even though she hadn’t wanted to take the time to slip out of the wedding dress right then and there, she’d suspected racing around in the thing would get old fast.
She’d been on the road a couple hours before deciding to head for the lake house, partly because she knew it would be well stocked with everything from food to clothing. Reception was lousy, though, so once she finally turned off her cell, it was doubtful anyone could reach her unless they sent up smoke signals or parachuted in.
And it was only for a few days, she told herself again. Just until she cleared her head and figured out what to do...about everything.
She was panting slightly as she reached the top of the hill and the end of the path that led into the clearing surrounding the cabin. It was brighter here, and warmer with the sun shining down on the house through the break in the trees.
Shading her eyes, she followed one long side of the wraparound porch railing to the front door...and came to a screeching halt at the sight of a hunter-green Range Rover parked right behind her silver-blue BMW.
Her heart lurched. Who did it belong to? Had someone followed her, or was it a complete stranger? And if it was a stranger, had he simply happened by—hard to do when the cabin was nearly impossible to find without directions—or was he, or she, up to no good?
A dozen home invasion/hostage movie-of-the-week scenarios played through her head and she swallowed nervously, wondering if she should move forward to investigate or race back the way she’d come to hide in the woods or hike into town for help.
Before she could make a decision, she heard a creak and heavy footsteps clipped across the porch floor. Her head swiveled and she found herself staring up into the dark, dangerous eyes of Reid McCormack.
One corner of his mouth lifted in a humorless, almost feral grin. “Hey there, runaway bride.”
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