A Cowboy Named Fortune
In a small Western town with more horses than people, feisty city reporter Ariana Lamonte may have uncovered the scoop of a lifetime: not one, not two, but three secret Fortunes, hiding in plain sight. Exposing these heretofore unknown Fortune heirs could make her career. But it could also break her heart.
Falling in love with cowboy/military man Jayden Fortune was never part of the plan. When Jayden offered Ariana shelter from a storm, he didnât know who she wasâand she didnât know what she was in for. Trapped in a dark, damp cellar with the sexy-as-sin rancher, Ariana unlassoed her inner cowgirl, and now sheâs got a problem: her âsecret Fortuneâ has become way more than just a story...
MEET THE FORTUNES
Fortune of the Month: Jayden Fortune
Age: 36
Vital Statistics: Tall, sexy cowboy. Former military with a penchant for adventure and pretty girls.
Claim to Fame: He is one of three equally gorgeous triplets. Oh, and he may be the son of a billionaire.
Romantic Prospects: Jayden has never had a problem attracting the female of the species. If anything, heâs had trouble fighting them off.
âI traveled all over the world with the army, and I used to think Iâd never come back to quiet old Paseo. But Iâm older nowâhopefully a little wiser, tooâand thereâs something to be said for âhome, sweet home.â
Not a lot happens in Paseo, usually. Whoâd believe that a stunning city girl would get stuck here on the road to nowhereâand that weâd wind up trapped in a storm cellar together with no lights, no phone service and plenty of sparks? Ariana got under my skin right from the start. Weâre different, all right, but I feel like sheâs perfect for me. Or maybe a little too perfect? Just what is it that Ariana is hiding?â
The Fortunes of Texas: The Secret Fortunesâ A new generation of heroes and heartbreakers!
Chapter One
âGirl, this is not good.â
Ariana Lamonte made a face as she looked out the windows of her car. She hadnât seen another vehicle for more than an hour. Grassland whipped in the wind all the way to the horizon in every direction. The same wind rocked her little car where she was parked on the dirt shoulder, and sent the thick clouds overhead racing across the sky. âNot good at all,â she repeated to herself.
She fished her cell phone up from the passenger side floor by the charging cord tethering it to her dashboard. Using the GPS on the phone always drained the battery quickly, so sheâd at least been prepared on that score when sheâd set out from Austin that morning. But she sure wished sheâd been better prepared with the address she was seeking. There was a dot blinking on her phone screen, right atop a barely discernible line that indicated the laughable excuse for a road on which she sat.
But that was it. No town. No other roads.
Nothing. Nada.
For the third time, she checked her notes and verified the address sheâd put into her GPS app. Everything matched.
Which meant she ought to be sitting in the middle of a place called Paseo, Texas.
Instead, she was sitting in the middle of...
âGrass,â she muttered, looking out the windows again. âNothing but grass and more grass.â And sheâd wasted nearly an entire day getting there.
The wind howled and her car rocked again. She studied her phone for a moment. The GPS dot blinked back at her, but there wasnât a strong enough cell signal to even make a phone call or send a text message. Not that she particularly wanted to advertise to anyone that she wasnât really home in her apartment where she was supposed to be working on an assignment for the magazine.
Instead, sheâd set out on yet another wild goose chasing down facts for the real life story behind Robinson Techâs founder, Gerald Robinson. The real life story that would prove once and for all that Ariana Lamonte wasnât just an internet blogger whoâd more or less stumbled into print journalism. That she deserved her own spot on the map.
Preferably a better map than the one her GPS was currently providing.
She dropped the useless phone on the passenger seat and opened the thick pink notebook on the console, clicking her pen a few times before sighing and drawing a line through the address as she thought about Gerald Robinson.