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
