Fortune's Unexpected Groom. Nancy Thompson Robards

been in danger. I told you I didn’t think we should fly that day, that we should wait. But no. No one would listen to me.”

      The words were spewing like the morning sickness that had seized her body the past few months. She couldn’t stop it; she knew if she tried she’d choke on the resentment. “If you listened to me every once in a while maybe a lot of things would be different.”

      Whoa! She clamped her mouth shut before she said any more. Neither Victoria nor Tanner had told on her, but if she didn’t exercise a little self-control, she was going to tell on herself. Suddenly regretting her outburst, she braced for the inevitable backlash from her father. No one but no one talked back to John Michael Fortune without suffering the consequences.

      Oddly, he stood squinting down at her with a neutral, if slightly bemused, look on his face. He shook his head and turned to Tanner. “Take her out to a nice, long lunch. In fact, Jordana, take the rest of the afternoon off. You obviously need a break.”

      “I don’t want—”

      “Jordana.” Her father silenced her with a single booming word. All traces of his earlier bemuse-ment gone, replaced by the stern glare that was famous for making grown men cry. “Leave. Now. I don’t want to see you back in this office until Monday morning.”

      John Michael shook Tanner’s hand. “It was a pleasure, but I need to get back to work. I’m sure we will be talking again soon.” He glanced at Jordana, but directed his words at Tanner. “Good luck, son. She’s been in a very strange mood lately.”

      Jordana snorted, but before she could say anything, her father did something so uncharacteristic it nearly rendered Jordana speechless, anyway. He hugged her and planted a fatherly kiss on her cheek. Something else Jordana couldn’t recall him doing in recent memory.

      Her heart sank low in her chest. What in the world had Tanner told him?

       Chapter Three

      Tanner and Jordana didn’t speak as they walked out of the office and into the mahogany-paneled elevator bank. She didn’t have to say a word for him to recognize she was furious. He could feel her anger radiating off her in waves as they waited for an elevator to arrive to carry them down twenty-two stories to the ground floor.

      Tanner decided if he didn’t break the tension, Jordana might burst.

      “Your father is a great guy.”

      Jordana shot him a look.

      “Really? Nice?” Jordana asked. “I’ve heard him described a lot of ways, but nice isn’t an adjective people usually use when they talk about John Michael Fortune.”

      “I enjoyed talking to him.”

      Jordana turned and faced him, eyes narrowed. “Yeah, about that—” The elevator interrupted her by announcing its arrival with a loud ding.

      They entered the empty car, and as it started its descent, Jordana tore into him.

      “What the heck are you doing, Tanner? Why did you come here and what did you tell my father?”

      Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glistened with fury. He couldn’t remember seeing her look more beautiful. Healthy and vital … and pregnant with his child.

      “You know why I came. Do you really want to talk about it here?” he asked.

      “Well, yes, because I don’t know where else we would talk about it. When we get off this elevator, I’m getting in my car and going home. You are getting back on your plane—or however you got here—and going back to Red Rock.”

      “Actually, I was thinking we could go grab some lunch.”

      Her lips puckered with annoyance. “Are you listening to me?”

      The elevator stopped on the first floor and the doors slid open, revealing the marble-and-brass lobby. A fountain in the center cascaded soft ambient noise. They stepped out of the car and Jordana stopped right outside the elevator doors. “I’m going home, Tanner. Alone. If you’d like to tell me what you and my father talked about, this is your chance. If not, frankly, I guess it doesn’t matter. I don’t have the energy to play guessing games with you.”

      Tanner glanced around the professional building’s lobby. A handful of people walked with a purpose toward the exit. Others, talking on cell phones and carrying briefcases, entered the building, branching off in various directions. About three yards to the left of where they stood, two men lingered by the elevator banks, deep in conversation.

      “You really want to do this here?” he asked.

      “It’s up to you,” she said, an edge to her voice. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

      “Funny you should say that.” He chuckled, hoping some levity would lighten her mood. “Because I just asked your father for your hand in marriage. I told him I was here in Atlanta to propose to you. He told me he thought it was the best idea he’d heard in ages.”

      For the first time in her life, Jordana knew what it was like to see stars after being verbally sucker punched. It was the strangest sensation, and once she got her bearings, she wanted to kick Tanner Redmond. She wanted to scream at him until he admitted that everything he’d just told her was a cruel joke, that he’d never play so dirty he would force her into marriage by going over her head to her father.

      But when she opened her mouth to tell him this, all that came out was a giant sob. Because despite the fact that she was twenty-nine years old, financially secure and fiercely independent, her father’s word was still law. It was that way for all her brothers and sisters, too. No matter how old the Fortune siblings got, John Michael Fortune still ruled the clan with an iron fist.

      “Aww, no, Jordana. No, please don’t cry,” Tanner pleaded.

      His words made everything worse.

      “How dare you—” She choked on another sob and turned toward the exit, walking as fast as she could to get away from him. Breathe, she reminded herself. She drew in a few gulps of air, trying to stop the deluge of tears.

      Just because her father thought it was the best idea he’d heard in ages didn’t mean the marriage was inevitable.

      Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

      “Please, wait,” Tanner called, trailing after her.

      When he caught up to her, she hissed, “How could you? Going to my father behind my back was just … dirty pool.”

      He matched her step for step. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t tell him everything. You know …” He gestured toward her belly.

      “You didn’t? Why not? Were you afraid that he might tell you exactly what I’ve been saying all along—that a loveless marriage is doomed from the start? That it’s the worst possible thing to do to a child? You know he would never support such a farce.” Jordana stopped suddenly in front of the exit. “So, what did you say to him? Did you lie and tell him you were in love with me?”

      The words spilled out of Jordana’s mouth before she could stop them. Along with them was the most peculiar sense of … hope. For a split second she wanted him to say … yes. She wanted to hear him profess his love because maybe then, just maybe, there would be a chance for them. The moment seemed to be isolated in a bubble where she saw her life flash before her eyes: he loved her, she loved him, they were a happy couple … a family. And for a millisecond she wanted nothing more.

      But then Tanner shrugged and the bubble burst, revealing what Jordana thought was a hint of panic in his dark eyes.

      “Not exactly.” A note of defensiveness colored his voice.

      She felt her cheeks flame with resentment and humiliation. Her guard slammed back into place like a steel door.

      What had she expected him to