The Fortunes of Texas: Whirlwind Romance

“Since we barely know each other, I think we need to allow each other an escape clause.”

“What do you mean?” A gamut of perplexing emotions flooded through Tanner. One minute Jordana was talking about being true and how hard her parents had worked at making their marriage work, now she was negotiating an escape clause?

“What I mean is we hardly know each other and we’re talking about taking a step that people who have known each other for years agonize over. Think about it … what if we get married and we end up being incompatible?”

Honey, you and I are way too compatible. That’s what got us into this situation. He almost had to bite his tongue to keep himself from speaking his thoughts.

Dear Reader,

I love quotes. It started back when I was a kid and my mother shared the “Prayer of Serenity” to help me keep life in perspective. Now, I have it taped to my computer and refer to it daily.

Another favorite is from Voltaire: “Perfect is the enemy of very good.” It helps when I’m struggling to let go of something … say, a book I’m writing. I remember Voltaire’s words and realize it will never be perfect, because nothing is perfect.

Jordana Fortune, this book’s heroine, would’ve benefitted from Voltaire’s advice. In her quest for perfection—being the perfect daughter, cultivating the perfect life, finding perfect love—she almost misses out on living. That is, until fate blows her into the arms of Tanner Redmond and turns her belief system upside down.

Along their journey, Tanner and Jordana realize the most perfect kind of love is imperfect; it encourages a person to be themself and knows that even on those very human bad days there’s a safe haven in unconditional love.

Please drop me a line at nrobardsthompson@yahoo.com and let me know what you think of the story or share your favorite quotes.

Warmly,

Nancy

About the Author

Award-winning author NANCY ROBARDS THOMPSON is a sister, wife and mother who has lived the majority of her life south of the Mason-Dixon line. As the oldest sibling, she reveled in her ability to make her brother laugh at inappropriate moments, and she soon learned she could get away with it by proclaiming “What? I wasn’t doing anything.” It’s no wonder that upon graduating from college with a degree in journalism, she discovered that reporting “just the facts” bored her silly. Since hanging up her press pass to write novels full-time, critics have deemed her books “funny, smart and observant.” She loves chocolate, champagne, cats and art (though not necessarily in that order). When she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her family, reading, hiking and doing yoga.

Fortune’s
Unexpected
Groom
Nancy Robards Thompson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

This book is dedicated to talented ladies I worked with on this continuity: Karen Templeton, Marie Ferrarella, Judy Duarte, Susan Crosby and Allison Leigh.

Thanks for making this such a fun journey!

Also, Sarah McDaniel Dyer, for your great editing eye; and Gail Chasan and Susan Litman,

because you’re fabulous, fun and very wise.

Prologue

December 30, 2011

“What in the world possessed your family to try and fly out in the middle of a storm like this?” As Tanner Redmond closed the door, shutting out the storm, his eyes shone with a certain tenderness that made Jordana Fortune’s pulse quicken. Despite having every reason to be angry with her—or at least at the situation she’d put them in—he didn’t seem mad. In fact, as he crossed the room, wiping the rain off his face with both hands, he looked quite compassionate.

“I’ve asked myself the same question at least a dozen times.”

He sat next to her on the worn couch—the only piece of furniture in the dilapidated hunting lodge, where the storm had forced them to seek shelter, the place where she’d dropped when her legs had given out after running for cover. Now, he was so close to her that their legs almost touched.

Almost.

But not quite.

Jordana’s breath hitched and she fought her natural reflex to pull away, to reclaim her personal space. She’d met Tanner at her sister’s wedding. The attraction had been instant. This evening, he’d stopped by the hotel to say goodbye.

She’d been so glad to see him.

The bad weather was the reason she’d initially refused to accompany her parents to the airport, opting instead to catch a later flight from Red Rock back to Atlanta once the weather improved. From the start, she’d had a bad feeling about the storm—no, more than a bad feeling. She’d been terrified. But she’d quickly changed her plans once Tanner had arrived at the hotel….

It had been a very long time since she’d met a man who’d made her want to change her mind once it was set. But he’d been on his way to the airport to batten down the hatches of his company, Redmond Flight School. She’d asked if he would drop her at the airport. All trepidation about flying during the tornado watch was shoved aside. Just so she could have a few more minutes with him.

Now, here they were. They could both be dead right now because of her impetuousness. If she hadn’t detained him with the time it took to go back to her room to get her bags and check out, Tanner could’ve been safely at the airport instead of stuck in the middle of nowhere in this shack, his car in a ditch along the highway where he’d swerved to avoid a falling oak tree that had been uprooted by a gust of wind.

Why had she not honored her gut feeling and stayed put like she knew she should? What the heck was wrong with her?

She gazed up at Tanner—at the strong line of his square jaw, the masculine slope of his perfectly imperfect nose and the fullness of his mouth that might be a little feminine if not for the way it was counterbalanced by the imperfection of his nose. It looked like it might have been broken once. A keen awareness slowly started to burn in her innermost core.

Suddenly she knew exactly what her problem was. She was twenty-nine years old. Still a virgin. She could’ve died tonight—still might if the storm spawned other tornadoes, which was a very real possibility. All the careful planning and saving herself for the one could very well amount to naught.

She’d saved herself and it was all coming down to this?

Suddenly, the cabin felt an awful lot like the bungalow Dorothy had ridden to Oz on the tail-winds of a similar storm. In fact, any minute she expected to see the wicked witch fly by on her broom, as the log hunting lodge lifted off for areas unknown.

And Jordana would die a virgin.

She shivered.

“Are you cold?” Tanner asked.

Before she could answer, he slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She melted into his warmth.

He smelled good and the hard flex of muscle against her softer curves felt even better. But the wind howled a mournful song. She could’ve sworn it was lamenting that they could both be dead by morning.

She shivered again and snuggled in closer, closing her eyes, wanting to disappear until the rain stopped and the wind quit howling.

A virgin … I am going to die a virgin.

“You’re shaking,” he said.

“Shh, don’t talk. Just … hold me.”

He closed the circle around her with his other arm, holding her tight. She nestled into his neck, breathing in the intoxicating smell of him—bergamot, leather and … something sexy and primal she couldn’t label … something she was suddenly finding very hard to resist.

So, if she didn’t want to die a virgin, why was she clinging to her virtue like a punctured life preserver?

Why … When Tanner Redmond was right here holding her so close?

Chapter One

April 20, 2012

Tanner Redmond had always believed the axiom What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. The fact that he was still alive after all he’d lived through proved he was one strong sonuvabitch. So why, then, was he afraid a baby might be his undoing?

He parked in a space in front of Jordana Fortune’s condo in the Buckhead area of Atlanta. Sitting in the rental car for a moment, he tried to quiet the anger that had simmered inside him since he’d heard her voice on the phone less than twenty-four hours ago.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Had she really planned to keep this secret from him? What made her think she had the right?

He had no idea, but as soon as their conversation—which had gone nowhere—had ended, he had flown into Atlanta from Red Rock, Texas. Now that he was here in person, she wouldn’t be able to put him off so easily. He intended to make it perfectly clear he wasn’t going away.

With a quick jab of his thumb, he sprung the car’s seat belt. He headed up the walk of pavers toward the hunter-green double doors set like a bruised eye in the middle of the stately, two-story red brick building.

He pulled back the brass door knocker and gave three sharp raps. It was slightly before seven o’clock in the morning. It was early, but his plan for the daybreak visit was to catch her before she went into work. She wasn’t expecting him. He hadn’t called before flying in because he wasn’t about to give her warning, time to run, a chance to avoid him and the secret she’d already hidden for four months.

If not for Jordana’s cousin, Victoria, who’d told him to call Jordana because she desperately needed to talk to him, he would still be blissfully unaware that the woman who’d blown him off after their one night was pregnant with his child.

The opening door drew him out of his inward brooding. There stood Jordana, looking shocked and so damned beautiful with her blond hair wet from her morning shower. Seeing her standing there in her bathrobe, with her face fresh and makeup-free, he didn’t know whether he wanted to kiss her or put his fist through a wall.

“Tanner? What are you doing here?” She tugged at the sash of the robe, then crossed her arms over her ribs. The protective gesture pulled his gaze to her belly, which showed no signs of the child growing within. Of course, that big white terry robe wasn’t exactly formfitting. It even swallowed up the prepregnancy curves that had been etched in his memory since that night … when they’d taken refuge from the storm. His eyes slowly made their way back to hers.

For one weak moment, seeing her again reminded him just how out of his league Jordana Fortune was. Not because her family had more money than European royalty, but her sheer presence—that mixture of grace and rock-solid strength—left him a little speechless.

Yeah, come to think of it, he’d been a little speechless after she’d left him with a handshake and a no-nonsense “thanks for everything” the morning after they’d made love for the first and only time. That was the night the tornado had destroyed Red Rock and parts of San Antonio.

Nothing had been the same since. And given that he would be a father before the year was over, it was beginning to sink in that nothing would ever be the same again. It scared him to death because his own father hadn’t been strong enough to be a family man. Tanner pushed the thought back into the dark recesses of his mind—the place where he stored his faded memories of the man who had once been his father and redoubled his vow that he would stand by his family no matter what.

“Seriously? You’re asking me why I’m here?” His voice was a hoarse and throaty rasp. “You’re pregnant with my child, Jordana. I wanted to see your face when you told me how long you thought you could keep that news from me.”

Jordana sighed heavily and glanced around. He couldn’t tell if her reaction was resignation or fear … fear of what? The neighbors finding out her little secret?

“Come in.” She stepped back and motioned him through. He stepped onto the hardwood of the entryway and glanced around at the expensive-looking decor. High ceilings and vibrantly colored walls with paintings. The place was like a snapshot out of one of those architectural magazines. The day’s first light was beginning to stream in through oversize windows that surrounded a large fireplace along the condo’s back wall. Inviting and elegant. Just like Jordana. He would’ve expected nothing less of the crown princess of the Fortune South Enterprises dynasty.

“Look, I’m sorry, Tanner. You must’ve misunderstood our conversation yesterday. You didn’t have to come.” She closed the door, but kept her hand on the doorknob, as if she didn’t expect him to stay very long. “You’re under absolutely no obligation with this child. I don’t need or want your help. I thought we had established that when we spoke.”

Her cool words were a hot slap in his face. “I’m not here for you,” he bit back. “I’m here for my child. And I intend to be involved in his life every step of the way.”

She blanched. “His life?” Her right hand slid to her belly. “How do you know the baby is a boy?”

“I don’t, but I intend to be there when we find out and for every other milestone in our kid’s life. So, you might as well get used to that right now.”

Tanner had been raised by a single mother who sometimes worked two jobs to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. She’d done a damn good job. His loser of a father had never paid a penny of child support. It was obvious Jordana didn’t need his financial help in raising their child. But the thought that she’d considered cutting him out of his baby’s life cut him to the core. His own father had been so absent from Tanner’s and his siblings’ lives that Tanner referred to him as “The Sperm Donor” rather than a father. As far as he was concerned, the name father or dad was a title earned by men who took their roles and responsibilities seriously. Tanner had always vowed he would be there for his kids … when the time came to have kids.

He just hadn’t expected that time to be right now. Since leaving the Air Force seven years ago, he’d been married to his company, Redmond Flight School. Although he wanted kids someday—in the very distant future—a family of his own hadn’t been on his radar. Well, that’s what he got for having impulsive, unprotected sex with Jordana. He had been taking her to the airport so that she could meet her family and fly back to Atlanta with them. The Fortunes had chartered a flight to take them home after they’d all gathered in Red Rock for the wedding of Jordana’s sister Wendy Fortune to Marcos Mendoza. When Jordana had heard reports of a storm bearing down on Red Rock, she’d refused to fly out with her family. Then she’d changed her mind. Tanner had offered her a ride to the airport. They’d both been a little unnerved about being stranded out on the road when the tornado struck. And they’d both sought warmth and comfort in the other’s arms. One thing led to another and … Well, you play, you pay.

“I know this is a hell of a time to ask, but were you not on birth control when we …?”

Stupid question. He realized it the minute the words passed his lips. The fact was further confirmed when sadness, or something just short of defeat, colored her golden-brown eyes. She shrugged and gestured toward the living room. “Sit down, Tanner. I need a cup of tea before I can deal with you at this hour. Do you prefer tea or coffee?”

He glared at her. Deal with me? “Coffee. But I don’t want any.”

She glared back. “How do you take yours?”

“I don’t want to put you out.”

“Well, I’m going to make it, anyway. So you’d be putting me out a lot less if you answered my question.”

The woman was pigheaded as all get-out. “Okay. Fine. Black.” At least he’d have her attention through the duration of a cup of joe, which he planned to nurse.

He watched her as she turned and padded barefoot, hips swaying under the cover of that big white robe, in the direction of what he presumed was the kitchen. He waited until she was out of his line of vision before he made his way into the living room and settled in a floral-print, overstuffed armchair.

He raked his fingers through the close-cropped hair on his head. How could he have been so stupid? He didn’t make a habit of having unprotected sex. Actually, he’d been so wrapped up in work lately, he hadn’t had many opportunities for protected sex. Nonetheless, he didn’t do it. For obvious reasons. But dammit, Jordana had been so aggressive that night. So wonderfully, deliciously insistent and responsive … only a dead man could’ve said no.

His body responded as he remembered that night. He sucked in a deep breath, fighting against arousal. Seeing her for the first time after all these months, with her clean morning face and her blond shoulder-length hair, slightly tussled as it started to dry, reminded him of why he hadn’t been able to resist her. She was sexy as hell, of course he hadn’t refused her. God almighty, despite the mess they were in, he even wanted her now.

He leaned forward in the chair, bracing his forearms on his knees, lacing his fingers loosely together. Maybe there really was a thin line between love and hate. Well, desire and hate, he quickly corrected. He didn’t know her well enough to be in love with her … no matter what his body was trying to tell him. Obviously, he didn’t really hate her, either. He was upset and more than a little angry at how things had turned out.

That had him focusing on the darker side of the desire-and-hate equation. The clear-cut side. His emotions might be muddled right now, but the one thing he knew for a fact was he hated the way Jordana had hidden his child from him. Anger coursed through his veins and clarified his momentary confusion.

He would stick to his plan. He would not leave Atlanta until she agreed to marry him and come back to Red Rock, Texas. His child would not be born illegitimate. Come hell or Jordana Fortune, he would do the right thing.

Jordana drew enough water in the kettle for a cup of tea for herself and a cup of coffee for Tanner. Her hand shook as she measured the French roast into the press-pot coffeemaker. The smell of the grounds—mixed with the thought of Tanner Redmond sitting in her living room with a stubborn set to his square jaw and a wild look in his chocolate-brown eyes made her stomach pitch. She held her breath for a moment, hoping to tamp down the awful sensation.

Smells she’d loved prepregnancy—like coffee and her favorite perfume—nearly turned her inside out now. Even so, enduring the stench of coffee was a small price to pay for an excuse to get away from Tanner for a few moments to gather her thoughts. Because the man who had been so gentle and patient with her back in December seemed like an entirely different animal now. She had about four minutes to figure out how she was going to change his mind and send him on his way.

Jordana stiffened as the wave of nausea swelled and tried to crest, despite the fact that there was nothing left in her stomach. She drew in a deep breath—in through her nose, out through her mouth. She repeated the process until her stomach finally settled. Morning sickness had plagued her since the second month of the pregnancy. In fact, it was her first clue that something different was going on with her body. Her doctor assured her the symptoms would go away in the second trimester, but so far, no luck. She’d been blessed with the variety of morning ills that sometimes lingered well into the afternoon. Today felt like it would be one of those days. It had been hard enough to drag herself into work and hide the fact that she was under the weather. People started to take notice when, for lack of a better excuse, she blamed her condition on rotating bouts of the flu and extreme exhaustion. Both excuses had worn thin a while ago. Now, what she didn’t need was for Tanner to come waltzing in and blow her cover.

She could just kill her cousin Victoria for spilling the beans to Tanner even after Jordana had explicitly told her she wasn’t ready to face him. In her trademark fashion, Victoria had pushed the issue, badgering Jordana, claiming she should just bite the bullet and tell him now because there would never be a perfect time to break news like this. Jordana should’ve known in Victoria-speak, her cousin was actually saying, “If you don’t tell him, I will.” The woman had never been able to keep a secret. When Victoria got something in her head, inevitably, it ended up rolling right off her tongue.

Jordana glanced at the clock. It was about six-fifteen in Texas. She had a sudden urge to pick up the phone and give the busybody a piece of her mind. But the kettle whistled, alerting her that the water was ready. She poured the water over the ground coffee in the press pot and over the tea bag in her favorite mug, setting the timer so both could steep for three minutes.

She’d talk to Victoria later, and when she did, her cousin was going to get a piece of Jordana’s mind, the likes of which she’d never seen before.

Jordana already knew what her cousin would say…. “Perhaps I was wrong to move things along the way I did, but really, Jordana, I’ve done you a huge favor.”

The last time they had spoken, Victoria had been spouting nonsense about how she believed that Jordana’s marriage to Tanner was inevitable. That they belonged together in the same way Victoria and her fiancé, Garrett, did. Victoria swore she could feel it in her bones. What her cousin didn’t realize was just because she and Garrett fell in love didn’t mean it would work out for Jordana and Tanner.

Tanner simply didn’t see her “that way.” If he did, he would’ve called her during the past four months. But he hadn’t. Not even once.

As she watched the timer tick down the remaining minute before she had to go back into the living room and face Tanner, she knew she needed to come up with a plan.

Think …

After one night together, she didn’t know him very well. They’d danced and made small talk the evening of Wendy and Marcos’s wedding. It was enough time to form the conclusion that he probably was a decent guy. A decent guy who’d followed up on his responsibility after her cousin spilled the beans.

She needed to let him know he was released from all obligation. Off the hook. Dismissed. She had a sinking feeling nice guys didn’t walk away from their duty that easily.

The timer dinged. She plunged the press pot’s filter, then poured the steaming brew into a large ceramic mug and carried it and her tea around the corner into the living room with what she hoped was confident ease.

It was time to face the music. The sooner they got down to business, the sooner Tanner Redmond headed back to Texas and out of her life.

He sat up straighter in the chair as she approached, but not before she’d glimpsed the slump of his shoulders that belied the burden he was carrying. He looked big and bulky and slightly out of place folded into the floral-print chair. And really handsome, she thought, before she caught herself.

“Here you go.” She handed him the mug. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m due in the office for a conference call in less than an hour and I still have to get dressed. So drink up.”

He lifted his eyebrows but held her gaze. “I didn’t come here to drink coffee. Though I do appreciate you making it for me—”

“I know. So, let’s cut to the chase. You’re here because my cousin Victoria made you believe I need your help. I don’t. I may be pregnant, but I’m not in trouble. I’m going to have this baby, and you are under absolutely no obligation to me or to the child.” She paused and drew in a deep breath, hoping to quell another wave of nausea. “I think that covers just about everything.”

She remained standing, hoping he’d take the hint. Instead, he took a long sip from the mug. “Mmm … good coffee.”

Seriously? Irritation skittered along her nerves. “Tanner, did you hear what I said?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I heard you. But what you don’t seem to understand is this isn’t just your child. It’s mine, too. You may think you have it all under control, but you need to know right now. I’m not leaving here until you agree to marry me. Because no child of mine will be born out of wedlock.”

“Marry you?” she squeaked.

He watched the emotions play out on her face. First, confusion. Next, a look that resembled something just short of horror. Then the color faded from her cheeks, leaving her deathly pale. Despite the spectrum of emotion, the stubborn set of her jaw never eased.

So, she was going to make this hard on both of them. Didn’t she understand it could be so simple? Really. All she had to do was the right thing and agree to marry him, and then he’d leave—for the moment, anyway. She could get dressed, go to the office for her phone meeting—or whatever it was she needed to do—while he made arrangements with a notary or the justice of the peace to marry them right here in Atlanta. They would make their union legal sooner rather than later. For the sake of the baby.

Or maybe because he wanted to pin her down now before she managed to slip away again like she did the last time he saw her. The morning after the storm, he’d taken her to find her family and she’d left him with a handshake. A handshake and a “Thanks … for everything.” He’d known his share of women—spent the night with more than a few—but none had ever shaken his hand the morning after.

“Look, Tanner, you can’t just waltz into my home and expect me to marry you.” She looked exasperated. “Do you really think that’s the answer to this … this … situation?”

So, that’s what she wanted to call it. He looked at her for a moment, weighing his words. “Who else knows about our little situation?”

She crossed her arms over her ribs, pressing the robe against her frame. She didn’t look pregnant, but then again, he had no idea how far along women were when they started showing.

“No one else knows I’m pregnant, and I’d like to keep it that way. For now, at least.”

“Well, they’re going to find out eventually. Don’t you think it would be better to hear it from you … or us? Do you have any idea what it was like to learn that the woman I hadn’t spoken to in four months was pregnant with my child? Jordana, why didn’t you tell me before Victoria forced your hand? Why didn’t you call?”

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, looking a little guilty. “I’ve only known I was pregnant for about three months.”

She was hedging. “Three months is long enough. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I guess I was afraid. So many pregnancies don’t make it past the first trimester. I just didn’t want to alarm you.”

“Alarm me?” he said. “Were you ever going to fill me in?”

Her mouth held that stubborn line, but then he realized her brown eyes were swimming with tears. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I never meant for this to happen.”

The hard-nosed approach to getting Tanner Redmond out of her condo hadn’t worked. But the tears did. Jordana wasn’t an actress. The waterworks were genuine, compliments of the perfect storm of pregnancy hormones and frustration that consumed her all at once. It hit like an emotional tidal wave crashing down on her before she could run for cover.

After that, Tanner had easily agreed to give her time to think, time to get dressed so she could make her meeting on time—but only after she’d agreed to meet him for lunch tomorrow—Saturday, her day off.

She lifted the mug of naturally decaffeinated English breakfast tea and sipped at it tentatively, unsure of how her stomach would respond. But it was her conscience that felt ill. She’d decided the best way to let him off the hook was if she unexpectedly got “called out of town” tomorrow.

Jordana had decided she’d be doing Tanner a favor by doing this. Her administrative assistant, Marta, would call and deliver the news later this afternoon. She’d tell him, No, unfortunately, she was not certain when Jordana would return.

That meant there would be no way Tanner, who had a business to run back in Red Rock, would be able to wait for her in Atlanta. He’d have to get back to tend to his flight school. Once he was able to put some distance between them and think things out rationally, he’d realize getting married was not the answer. They’d work out a visitation schedule—one of the perks of Tanner being a pilot was he’d be able to fly in and see his child as often as he liked. By that time, he’d see that marriage was just an unnecessary burden to place on everyone involved.

She straightened a stack of papers on her desk, beginning her daily tidying-up ritual early. Because she planned on leaving early. She was indeed going to take herself out of town. She’d take her laptop and the files her father had asked her to read through and go to her favorite bed-and-breakfast on St. Simons Island. The time away at the beach would do her a world of good. Not to mention, she wouldn’t have to ask Marta to lie to Tanner. Truly, she would be out of town—on business.

He could rest assured that he made a valiant effort, but he would know full well that he was absolved of any and all obligation to her and the baby.

Jordana stared out her office window on the twenty-second floor, high above Peachtree Street. The breathtaking view of downtown Atlanta did little to soothe her. The shiny, mirrored buildings only seemed to reflect the fact that running away to the beach didn’t make the real challenge go away. Eventually, she would have to break the news to her parents. The mere thought turned her stomach inside out. She put a protective hand on her belly. Maybe what she was feeling was the remnants of the morning sickness. She glanced at her desk clock. It was nearly noon. She needed some nourishment, needed to feed the baby something other than saltine crackers. She wrote a reminder to herself on a Post-it note to follow up on an idea she wanted to present to her father before she left for St. Simons—the idea stemmed from a lead he had mentioned. Maybe if she proved just how conscientious she was at work, he would be more accepting of the news that she was about to become a single parent.