Читать книгу Fortune's Unexpected Groom - Nancy Robards Thompson - Страница 8

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?