Fortune's Unexpected Groom. Nancy Robards Thompson

took a deep breath and reframed the situation. If her father knew that Tanner Redmond had gotten her pregnant, he would not be standing here being so uncharacteristically personable. Cautiously, she gazed up at her father. He was a good head taller than she was—and so was Tanner, for that matter. Facing off, the two men seemed at once imposing yet somehow equally matched. At least right now. It would be a different story once her father found out. If Tanner knew what was good for him, he’d get as far away from here as possible before that happened. She was keeping this baby. She was raising her or him on her own. She wouldn’t sell out to a loveless sham of a marriage.

      That was her final answer.

      In an uncharacteristic burst of defiance, Jordana blurted, “If you’d listened to me in the first place, Daddy, none of us would’ve 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?