Silver James - Billionaire Country

Rule Number One:

Never mix business and pleasure.

Country music producer Tucker Tate is laser focused. But finding a pregnant runaway bride forces him to slow down. Zoe Parker has a voice like an angel—and nowhere to go. So when he moves her and her baby into his condo, it’s just business...until it’s not. Will broken rules lead to broken hearts? Or is Tucker writing his very own love song?

SILVER JAMESlikes walks on the wild side and coffee. Okay. She LOVES coffee. A cowgirl at heart, she’s been an army officer’s wife and mum, and worked in the legal field, fire service and law enforcement. Now retired from the real world, she lives in Oklahoma, spending her days writing with the assistance of two Newfoundlands, the cat who rules them all and the characters living in her imagination.

Also by Silver James

Red Dirt Royalty

Cowgirls Don’t Cry

The Cowgirl’s Little Secret

The Boss and His Cowgirl

Convenient Cowgirl Bride

Redeemed by the Cowgirl

Claiming the Cowgirl’s Baby

The Cowboy’s Christmas Proposition

Billionaire Country

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Billionaire Country

Silver James

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09215-9

BILLIONAIRE COUNTRY

© 2019 Silver James

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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To best friends,

families and dreams that come true.

Many thanks to Charles, my editor,

who challenges me every step of the way,

all so my own dream can come true.

And with special thanks to Denise,

with the Metropolitan Nashville Department

of Communications, and the Nashville Police

Department for service above and

beyond when it came to dumb questions.

Thank you for all you do!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Epilogue

About the Publisher

One

Tucker Tate was a man who knew where he was going. His life was exactly on track—and precisely where he wanted it. As the chief operating officer of Barron Entertainment, that life was never boring. The sun was shining, and he was tooling down Life’s Highway in a vintage T-Bird, top down, wind in his face, radio cranked loud. He was single and free of familial duties, thanks in part to his brother Deacon getting married and adopting a baby, causing his mother to tone down the marriage rhetoric where her other six sons were concerned. Thank goodness! His cousin, and boss, Chase Barron, had also jumped onto the happily married-go-round, turning more of the business side over to Tucker. Which brought him to this glorious spring day.

He’d driven to eastern Tennessee from Nashville to check out a band performing at an amusement park with an eye to offering them a recording contract with Bent Star, the record company owned by Barron Entertainment. He had their demo tape and was leaning toward signing them, though he wanted one of the producers at Bent Star Records to take a listen. At the moment, he just wanted to enjoy a day of freedom. He’d opted to drive the long way home—heading to Gatlinburg for lunch before meandering through the Smoky Mountains as he headed vaguely north and west.

He didn’t spend much time in the country. He appreciated his suite at the Crown Casino in Las Vegas and the company’s luxury town house in Nashville’s West End district. When he had to be home in Oklahoma, he stayed at the family ranch—mostly for holidays and the few command performances decreed by his mom.

The sun still hung high as Tucker drove toward I-40, taking every back road he could find. He passed a small country church perched on a low rise just off the road. A dirt and gravel drive led up to it and the clapboard building was surrounded by a variety of trucks and cars, some so beat-up he wondered that they still ran while others were tricked out enough to be show cars. As it was Saturday and there appeared to be an abundance of paper flowers and streamers on the vehicles, he figured a wedding was taking place.

It was a good day for a wedding, he decided—so long as it wasn’t his neck in the noose. Marriage and kids were the very last thing on his mind. He was enjoying the heck out of his life.

Shifting gears, he took a curve in the road a little faster than was smart. He wasn’t expecting the car charging up his six.

Jerking the wheel, Tucker cursed and fought gravity but kept the T-Bird between the lines. He blinked at the car that passed then pulled away from him. Was that a Trans Am? He laughed out loud. It was. It was a freaking Smokey and the Bandit Trans Am. Covered in paper flowers and trailing cans. Good grief. Then something white and filmy flew up through the Trans Am’s open T-tops. He watched, fascinated, as the backwash from the car sent the thing soaring. Tucker slowed and downshifted, paying more attention to the material sailing toward him than the road.