The Sharpest Edge. Stephanie Rowe

one had ever defended her supposedly injured honor so vigorously before.

      “Don’t worry about your car. My cousin, Zach, owns the auto-repair shop in Truelove. I’ll get him to tow your car and find out what’s wrong.”

      She didn’t know what to say. And for once, surprising herself, she said nothing.

      But like a bottle finally uncorked, Jonas continued to speak.

      “Storm’s likely to last all night, but until the roads are plowed, no one can get on or off the mountain. Worst-case scenario, we could be snowed in here for a few days.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “We’ll sort everything out. I promise.”

      A veritable avalanche of words. Jonas would be exhausted tomorrow, no doubt.

      She wasn’t sure what had prompted his about-face. He said he knew—as in understood firsthand?—that she was better off without her erstwhile groom. In the past, had something equally humiliating and hurtful happened to him, too?

      Jonas squared his shoulders. Broad shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist, where his shirttail was tucked into his jeans. “Stay here as long as you like, AnnaBeth. You’ve found a safe place, a refuge from the storm, here with us at the FieldStone.”

      Her heart gave a funny quiver. Her eyes locked with his. She soon became lost in his melted-chocolate eyes.

      But truth be told, she was lost in more ways than just the obvious.