“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 [email protected] 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

      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