Tara Quinn - Fortune's Christmas Baby

His holiday surprise...

Is a bundle of joy!

When Nolan Forte returns to Austin a year after a yuletide romance, he is shocked to learn he is a father. He wants to do right by his beautiful baby girl—and her sweet mama, Lizzie Sullivan. But when he reveals his real name is Nolan Fortune, all bets are off. Lizzie doesn’t trust men with money. Maybe some Christmas magic can convince her that she, Nolan and Stella are already rich in what matters!

Having written over eighty-five novels, TARA TAYLOR QUINNis a USA TODAY bestselling author with more than seven million copies sold. She is known for delivering intense, emotional fiction. Tara is a past president of Romance Writers of America and is a seven-time RWA RITA® Award finalist. She has also appeared on TV across the country, including CBS Sunday Morning . She supports the National Domestic Violence Hotline. If you need help, please contact 1-800-799-7233.

Also by Tara Taylor Quinn

An Unexpected Christmas BabyHer Lost and Found Baby

His First ChoiceThe Promise He Made HerHer Secret LifeThe Fireman’s SonFor Joy’s SakeA Family for ChristmasFalling for the Brother

For Love or Money

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Fortune’s Christmas Baby

Tara Taylor Quinn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07851-1

FORTUNE’S CHRISTMAS BABY

© 2018 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2018

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

To my own precious Christmas Babies:

Morgan Marie, Baylor Raine and Finley Joseph.

You remind me that life is eternal

and love matters more than anything else.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

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

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

He wanted to play.

Just not in Austin.

Weary from a year of major financial gains, youngest son banker in a family of bankers, Nolan Fortune, wanted—badly—to get out of his hometown of New Orleans.

He wanted to tune out the noise, close his eyes and sink deeply into the world where it was him and his saxophone. Making music, not money. Just for the couple weeks that the executives at Fortune Investments, himself included, were off work over the holidays.

He needed to pretend to be someone else. To wear jeans, a bit of stubble on his usually freshly shaven face and a black leather vest if he felt like it. The yearning inside of him had to have a chance to break free for a bit or he was going to get really cranky.

He wanted to be his other self—Nolan Forte.

He wanted to travel with the band he secretly gigged with on weekends—the guys who had no idea he was a millionaire banker in a family of millionaire bankers—and get a little crazy. He wanted to be able to talk to people—women—and believe that he, not his money, was the main attraction.

A little crazy. Nothing harsh enough to land him in any kind of trouble. Or the news.

How spoiled was he that he was getting almost everything he wanted—the break, the time with the band, the stubble and jeans, the anonymity—and he still wasn’t satisfied?

But Austin...damn.

“Sorry you were outvoted, man.” Daly, their lead guitarist turned in the seat he was hogging to look at Nolan, who was stretched out in the seat behind him. The fifteen-passenger van had a lot of seats. The band had four guys.

“You planning to sulk the whole way there?” Daly came again.

He wasn’t sulking. He was contemplating life.

His life.

“The Florida gig could have been good,” he said halfheartedly. Not that anyone knew it, but he’d arranged the Florida offer himself, through a friend of a music shop owner he used to know.

“In a retirement resort? You’re kidding, right?”

With a shrug, he sat up, dropping his feet to the floor. “I hear they have great light displays,” he said, and then grinned. The answer was lame, even for him.

And the Austin gig, a repeat tour at a jazz club by the University of Texas from the year before, paid better than any gig the band had ever had. It made sense to go back.

“Hell, man, lightning might strike your sorry butt twice,” Daly continued, putting a wad of gum in his mouth, as he referred to Nolan’s supposed success with the ladies the year before. Or rather, one lady in particular.

Good thing Daly didn’t need his teeth to play, Nolan thought sourly. At the rate he chewed the sugary crap he was going to lose them all. In truth, Daly’s gifted fingers on any stringed instrument he picked up were being sold way too short with their little part-time band. He belonged in Vegas or LA or New York. On a stage in the serious jazz clubs where the real music lovers went to listen—not just to party.

“What was her name?” Daly prompted. “Emily something?”

It was at least the tenth time the guy had brought up a subject Nolan was trying his best to forget.

Daly just wouldn’t let it rest apparently. It wasn’t like she was the only woman who’d tried to contact one, or all, of them through their website. After checking with Nolan, Branham, who managed the site for them, did what they always did when that happened. He blocked the address.