Judy Duarte - Triple Trouble / A Real Live Cowboy

She tore her gaze away from his smile. Unfortunately, she was immediately snagged by his glossy black hair, thick-lashed brown eyes, tanned skin with a faint beard shadow despite the early hour, handsome features…

Were all the Fortune men this blessed by nature? she wondered. If so, God help the women who caught their attention – because females didn’t stand a chance against all that powerful, charming, handsome male virility.

Perhaps she was fortunate that he was her boss and thus off-limits. Never mind the fact that he was also not interested in her.

Because if he ever turned that undeniable charm on her, she’d give in without a whimper.

Something – pheromones, for one thing – buzzed between them with an intensity that nearly buckled her knees.

Or was that the wine she’d consumed doing a number on her?

Perhaps it was both.

Isabella offered him a lighthearted smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go to bed.”

“Sleep tight.”

Yeah, right.

She’d set her sights on finding Mr Right – or Señor Right more accurately – but she was afraid that JR Fortune thought he might be that man.

Sure, the city-slicker was handsome – and wealthy.

A very attractive, very appealing man.

But they were as different as night and day.

She’d lost herself and her family roots once, and she wouldn’t allow that to happen again.

That’s why she was determined to find the right mate.

So what was with her growing attraction to the wrong one?

By

By

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Cover Page

Excerpt TRIPLET TROUBLE No man should be that gorgeous. She tore her gaze away from his smile. Unfortunately, she was immediately snagged by his glossy black hair, thick-lashed brown eyes, tanned skin with a faint beard shadow despite the early hour, handsome features… Were all the Fortune men this blessed by nature? she wondered. If so, God help the women who caught their attention – because females didn’t stand a chance against all that powerful, charming, handsome male virility. Perhaps she was fortunate that he was her boss and thus off-limits. Never mind the fact that he was also not interested in her. Because if he ever turned that undeniable charm on her, she’d give in without a whimper.

Title Page Triple Trouble By

Triple Trouble Triple Trouble By

About the Author Lois Faye Dyer lives in a small town on the shore of beautiful Puget Sound in the Pacific Northwest with her two eccentric and loveable cats, Chloe and Evie. She loves to hear from readers and you can write to her c/o Paperbacks Plus, 1618 Bay Street, Port Orchard, WA 98366, USA. Visit her on the web at www.LoisDyer.com and www.SpecialAuthors.com.

Dedication For Grant Suh and his proud parents, Steve and Brenda. Welcome to America and our family, Grant – we’re so glad you’re here.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

A Real Live Cowboy

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Preview

Copyright

By

Lois Faye Dyerlives in a small town on the shore of beautiful Puget Sound in the Pacific Northwest with her two eccentric and loveable cats, Chloe and Evie. She loves to hear from readers and you can write to her c/o Paperbacks Plus, 1618 Bay Street, Port Orchard, WA 98366, USA. Visit her on the web at www.LoisDyer.com and www.SpecialAuthors.com.

For Grant Suh and his proud parents, Steve and Brenda.

Welcome to America and our family, Grant –

we’re so glad you’re here.

Nicholas Fortune closed the financial data file on his computer and stretched. Yawning, he pushed his chair away from his desk and stood. His office was on the top floor of the building housing the Fortune Foundation, and outside the big corner windows, the Texas night was moonless, the sky a black dome spangled with the faint glitter of stars.

“Hell of a lot different from L.A.,” he mused aloud, his gaze tracing the moving lights of an airplane far above. The view from the window in his last office in a downtown Los Angeles high rise too often had been blurred with smog that usually blotted out the stars. No, Red Rock, Texas, was more than just a few thousand miles from California—it was a whole world away.

All in all, he thought as he gazed into the darkness, he was glad he’d moved here a month ago. He’d grown tired of his job as a financial analyst for the Kline Corporation in L.A. and needed new challenges—working for the family foundation allowed him time to contemplate his next career move. And a nice side benefit was that he got to spend more time with his brother, Darr.

With the exception of the hum of a janitor’s vacuum in the hallway outside, the building around him was as silent as the street below. Nicholas turned away from the window and returned to his desk to slide his laptop into its leather carrying case. He was just shrugging into his jacket when his cell phone rang.

He glanced at his watch. The fluorescent dials read eleven-fifteen. He didn’t recognize the number and ordinarily would have let the call go to voice mail, but for some reason he thumbed the On button. “Hello?”

“Mr. Fortune? Nicholas Fortune?”

He didn’t recognize the male voice. “Yes.”

“Ah, excellent.” Relief echoed in the man’s voice. “I’m sorry to call so late, but I’ve been trying to locate you for three days and my assistant just found this number. My name is Andrew Sanchez. I’m an attorney for the estate of Stan Kennedy.”

Nicholas froze, his fingers tightening on the slim black cell phone. “The estate of Stan Kennedy? Did something happen to Stan?”

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of unfortunate news.” The caller’s voice held regret. “Mr. Kennedy and his wife were killed in a car accident three days ago.”

Shock kept Nicholas mute.

“Mr. Fortune?”

“Yeah.” Nicholas managed to force words past the thick emotion clogging his throat. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“It’s my understanding you and Mr. Kennedy were quite close?”

“We were college roommates. I haven’t seen Stan in a year or so, but we keep in touch— kept in touch by phone and e-mail.” Like brothers, Nicholas thought. “We were close as brothers in college.”