The Hijacked Bride by Liz Ireland

Author:Liz Ireland [Liz Ireland]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781459274648
Publisher: Harlequin

NEVER, NEVER IN HER LIFE had Cathy expected to feel elation at seeing a member of her own family. But when Joan opened the door for her at three o’clock in the morning, Cathy exuberantly hugged her sister—spiky orange hair and all. Now that she’d met the mentally ill Delaneys, never again would she be embarrassed by the benignly flaky Seymours.

“Damn!” Joan gaped in amazement at the tattered, nolonger-tasteful, or even beige, dress that she had once scolded her sister for purchasing, declaring it too boring. “You must have had one hell of a wedding day!”

“There was no wedding.” Cathy felt tears building in her eyes, and tossed herself onto her sister’s leopard fun fur couch in exhaustion. She recounted her wedding day woes hour by hour, from the moment she woke up, suspecting nothing of the catastrophe about to befall her, right down to when she stumbled off the train at Penn Station and hailed a cab to take her to her sister’s apartment. It felt so good to get the whole thing off her chest—to let someone else try to make sense of the chaos that had suddenly overtaken her carefully planned life.

“Let me get this straight,” Joan said, thoughtfully tapping a long orange-painted nail against her chin. Cathy guessed the nails went with the hair. She gave her sister credit for attempting to match, at least. “The hunk who kidnapped you is boring Bob’s brother, but the father doesn’t like him, either?”

Cathy nodded, but added automatically, “Bob is not boring.”

Joan raised an orange brow dubiously.

“He’s not,” Cathy insisted. This was their oldest argument. “You just have a skewed standard. You go for spidery looking men in black with names like Igor and Leonardo and Prince.”

“Duke,” Joan corrected tersely. “His name is Duke.”

“Oh, that’s right. Prince is the name of a fellow who used to be a rock star.”

“He’s still a rock star. He just doesn’t have a name now. And for your information, Duke and I are still together. He’s even got a job, driving a cab.”

Cathy smiled indulgently. “Two weeks, and they’re still like newlyweds.”

“Oh, well, never mind me,” Joan said in the irritated voice she always used when anyone started examining her own life with the same zeal she used on everyone else. She paced back and forth. A silk kimono fluttered loosely over her pajamas, which consisted of a pair of boxer shorts and a tight tank T-shirt. For slippers she wore a pair of green slouch socks, one of which had worked its heel down to her toe, so that most of it flopped limply as she walked. All in all, she looked pretty good for someone pulled out of bed at three in the morning to listen to wild stories of cops and kidnappings.

“You seem especially upset by this man…this Hale…”

“Of course! He was the one who kidnapped me.”

“Hmmm…”

Cathy narrowed her gaze on her sister. “I know,” she guessed. “You think that secretly I’m falling in love with him and out of love with Bob.

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