Her Dearest Enemy Read Online Free PDF Page A

erase that image—the looming stature that madeher feel small and defenseless; the piercing ceruleaneyes that rendered her as transparent as apple jelly;the chiseled-granite jaw and the grim yet, somehow,disturbingly sensual mouth.
    Harriet had never felt at ease around men, especiallymen like Brandon Calhoun. Arrogant, overbearingand reeking of self-made success, with thekind of looks that caused matrons to reach for theirsmelling salts, he was everything that made her wantto snatch up her skirts and bolt like a rabbit.
    But running away from Brandon was the worstthing she could do. If she so much as flinched underthe scrutiny of those storm-blue eyes, he would seeit as a victory. She would never again be able to standup to him in a convincing manner. Despite any showof bravado on her part, he would look down at her andknow that her mouth was dry, her pulse was racingand her knees were quivering beneath her petticoats.He would bully her into a corner and keep her therewhile he did his worst to destroy her brother’s life.
    Whatever the cost to her own pride, she could notallow that to happen.
    Outside, the voice of the wind had risen from amoan to a shriek. Its force caught the edge of awarped shutter, splintering the weakened wood andtearing it loose from its upper hinge. Held by a singlecorner, the shutter flapped and twisted in thewind, banging against the front window, threateningto shatter the fragile glass panes.
    Harriet sat up in bed, shivering in her high-neckedflannel nightgown. She was not tall enough to reachthe top of the shutter and hammer the hinge back intoplace, nor was she strong enough to pull the shutterdown for later repair. For this, she would have torouse her angry, exhausted young brother.
    Without taking time to find her slippers, she sprintedacross the icy floor. A wooden splinter jabbed into theball of her bare foot. Ignoring the pain, she rappedsharply on the thin planks. She hated the thought ofwaking Will when he was so tired, but the shutter hadto be fixed or it would break the window, letting in thecold wind and the snow that was sure to follow.
    “Will!” When he did not respond, she rappedharder on the door. “Wake up! I need your help!”
    She paused, ears straining in the darkness, but nosound came from her brother’s room. She could hearnothing except the slamming of the shutter, thescrape of a dry branch against the roof and the howlingcry of the wind.
    “Will!” She pounded so hard that pain shotthrough her knuckles, but when she stopped to listenagain, there was still no answer. Harriet sighed. Willalways slept like a hibernating bear, with the coverspulled up over his ears. She would have no choice exceptto go in and wake him, as she’d done so oftenwhen he was a schoolboy.
    The doorknob, which had no lock attached, wascold in her hand. She gave it a sharp twist to releasethe catch. The warped wood groaned as the doorswung open on its cheap tin hinges.
    The room was eerily silent, its stillness unbrokenby so much as a breath. A flicker of moonlightthrough the window revealed a lumpy, motionlessform in the bed. Harriet’s throat tightened as shecrept toward it.
    “Will?” She tugged at the quilts. There was no stirringat her touch, no familiar, awakening moan. Heartsuddenly racing, she seized the covers and sweptthem aside. An anguished groan stirred in her throatas she stared down at her brother’s pillows, hisbunched-up dressing gown and his Sunday hat, arrangedto mimic his sleeping outline beneath thecovers.
    Will was gone.
    * * *
    The frantic pounding on Brandon’s front doorjerked him from the edge of a fitful sleep. He sat up,still groggy, swearing under his breath as he swunghis legs off the bed, jammed his feet into fleece-linedslippers and reached for his merino dressing gown.What could bring someone to his house at this ungodlyhour? Had something gone wrong at the bank?A robbery? A fire?
    Still cursing, he lit a lantern and made his way downthe long flight of