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Unexpected Father
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2018
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Unexpected Father
Kelly Jamison
HE HAD A SON?Jordan McClennon never expected that his short, passionate affair with Hannah Brewster seven years ago had produced a child. But he just knew that six-year-old Kevin was living proof! True, Hannah had never told Jordan he was a father, but he was prepared to give her time to accept that he was back in her life for good.Until then, he was taking control of the minor details - reigniting the passion with Hannah, building a bond with Kevin, and planning the perfect wedding… . But then Hannah discovered what Jordan suspected! And told him the truth about Kevin… .
“Kevin Isn’t Your Son?” (#udd7c8ed1-e1f0-59dc-a53d-8e54a6517cf7)Letter to Reader (#uee262f9c-2bc2-5c3e-bfe9-0a671bcf91f7)Title Page (#u4c7b287b-bf50-55ef-83c9-537732ffdc81)About the Author (#u5e44cc13-fe24-5561-af00-c34c749ca953)Chapter One (#u652a8cca-141b-592a-97d6-2874dccb80b5)Chapter Two (#uc573a6be-9ac5-5a32-8fed-2a147565a072)Chapter Three (#ue259103d-83f5-5f73-842c-eedbcd1e055d)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
“Kevin Isn’t Your Son?”
Hannah shook her head at Jordan’s question. “I assumed everyone knew. My sister, Marybeth, died shortly after he was born.”
She watched Jordan’s face with growing alarm. Something was obviously wrong. “Why is it so surprising to you that Kevin is my sister’s child? Did you think he was biologically mine?”
If he thought Kevin was hers, why had he never asked about Kevin’s father?
“Oh...” she said softly. “Oh. You thought...”
“How could I not think that? The timing was right, and you seemed so...angry to see me again. And so protective of Kevin.”
It all made sense to her now. Horrible, painful sense.
Jordan had wanted to be with his son.
Not her. But the son he thought he had fathered.
And now that he knew the truth...
Dear Reader,
This month we have some special treats in store for you, beginning with Nobody’s Princess, another terrific MAN OF THE MONTH from award-winning writer Jennifer Greene. Our heroine believes she’s just another run-of-the-mill kind of gal...but naturally our hero knows better. And he sets out to prove to her that he is her handsome prince...and she is his princess!
Joan Elliott Pickart’s irresistible Bishop brothers are back in Texas Glory, the next installment of her FAMILY MEN series. And Amy Fetzer brings us her first contemporary romance, a romantic romp concerning parenthood—with a twist—in Anybody’s Dad. Peggy Moreland’s heroes are always something special, as you’ll see in A Little Texas Two-Step, the latest in her TROUBLE IN TEXAS series.
And if you’re looking for fun and frolic—and a high dose of sensuality—don’t nuss Patty Salier’s latest, The Honeymoon House. If emotional and dramatic is more your cup of tea, then you’ll love Kelly Jamison’s Unexpected Father.
As always, there is something for everyone here at Silhouette Desire, where you’ll find the very best contemporary romance.
Enjoy!
Senior Editor
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O Box 609. Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
Kelly Jamison
Unexpected Father
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
KELLY JAMISON
began her writing career in sixth grade when she discovered that the weekly spelling assignment—to write a story using all the words on that week’s list—was more fun than recess. It continued to be fun, and hard work, from then on...from the humorous greeting cards she wrote on a freelance basis to the confession stories that scandalized her mother-in-law to the romances she first published under the pen name Kelly Adams.
Along the way she wrote for two newspapers—one so strapped for cash that reporters also had to borrow a camera from the woman next door for news photos. Kelly says she has all the ingredients for a happy life—her husband, a word processor, a nearby bookstore and a good supply of chocolate. She is always glad to hear from readers and can be reached at P.O. Box 5223, Quincy, Illinois 62305.
One
Hannah Brewster sat on the grass scowling at the two pickup trucks pulling into the driveway, her hands clenched on the shortened two-by-four lying across her lap. Just the name McClennon was enough to make her blood boil, and here came two of them now.
But these were the two older brothers, John and Jake, not Jordan McClennon, whose memory was still an aching bruise to her pride.
Hannah wouldn’t have come all the way from St. Louis today if she’d known any McClennons would be here, as well, but Ronnie Wardlow had neglected to mention that little detail until a few minutes ago. On purpose, she suspected.
Ronnie had invited her to help him and some friends build a new house for his mother, Esther. Hannah liked Ronnie and his mother, and she had jumped at the chance to get out of St. Louis and into the country air at Sandford, Illinois, on a sunny, early-May weekend. The whole plan had sounded fine until now.
The trucks drew to a stop beside Ronnie’s battered pickup, and two tall, dark men got out of the vehicle. McClennons, she was sure. They were certainly a good-looking family.
The second truck had a camper top on the back, and the driver stood behind it for a couple of minutes, adjusting something with the help of the McClennon brothers. When he stepped around the pickup into Hannah’s view, her heart leapt to her throat.
Jordan McClennon.
She started to stand up, then abruptly sat down again. She looked around in agitation, finally focusing on Ronnie. He gave her a helpless shrug.
Ronnie knew that she didn’t like Jordan, but he didn’t know the whole story.
It wouldn’t have mattered much to any other woman, she supposed—a man dumping a girl after two dates was hardly headline news—but she had been young and in love. For months that love had been secret—and totally one-sided—but then one red-letter day Jordan McClennon, founder and owner of McClennon Industries in St. Louis and Hannah’s employer, had bumped into her in the employees’ lounge and invited her to dinner.
Hannah had never considered herself attractive; at the time she’d been too thin and gangly, wore thick glasses and pulled her hair back in a drab ponytail for convenience. But she had bought a new dress for her first dinner with Jordan. He’d been polite and charming, and she’d returned home more in love than ever.
There was a second date. Hannah had found a reservoir of self-confidence in the wine, and when Jordan had suggested they stop at his apartment to pick up some papers before dropping her at her place, she’d agreed.
He gave her a tour of the apartment, and at the bedroom she found herself looping her arms around his neck and smiling up at him. Jordan took it from there. If there was a seduction, she had been a more than willing participant, if not the instigator. But that didn’t assuage her anger with Jordan.
He was handsome, he was articulate, he was intelligent, he was the walking embodiment of charm. And he’d never called her again after they’d made love.
Her grandmother was right, she decided. Men only wanted one thing. And when they got it, they moved on to the next conquest.
Her pride stung, even more so when she’d passed Jordan’s office two days later and had seen him in conference with a buxom blonde. Some conference. Her bosom was thrust into his face as she leaned over the desk next to him, and one hand with its manicured, fire-engine red press-on nails was draped teasingly over his.
Hannah would have continued working at McClennon Industries, would have continued with her dateless, colorless existence, because she was a Brewster, and that was what she had been taught. But circumstances intervened.
Her sister, Marybeth, the wild one in the family, had become pregnant out of wedlock, and Hannah had quit her job to help her out. When Hannah finally returned to St. Louis, it was with her sister’s child and to a different job.
Until this day she had not seen Jordan McClennon again.
Kelly Jamison
HE HAD A SON?Jordan McClennon never expected that his short, passionate affair with Hannah Brewster seven years ago had produced a child. But he just knew that six-year-old Kevin was living proof! True, Hannah had never told Jordan he was a father, but he was prepared to give her time to accept that he was back in her life for good.Until then, he was taking control of the minor details - reigniting the passion with Hannah, building a bond with Kevin, and planning the perfect wedding… . But then Hannah discovered what Jordan suspected! And told him the truth about Kevin… .
“Kevin Isn’t Your Son?” (#udd7c8ed1-e1f0-59dc-a53d-8e54a6517cf7)Letter to Reader (#uee262f9c-2bc2-5c3e-bfe9-0a671bcf91f7)Title Page (#u4c7b287b-bf50-55ef-83c9-537732ffdc81)About the Author (#u5e44cc13-fe24-5561-af00-c34c749ca953)Chapter One (#u652a8cca-141b-592a-97d6-2874dccb80b5)Chapter Two (#uc573a6be-9ac5-5a32-8fed-2a147565a072)Chapter Three (#ue259103d-83f5-5f73-842c-eedbcd1e055d)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
“Kevin Isn’t Your Son?”
Hannah shook her head at Jordan’s question. “I assumed everyone knew. My sister, Marybeth, died shortly after he was born.”
She watched Jordan’s face with growing alarm. Something was obviously wrong. “Why is it so surprising to you that Kevin is my sister’s child? Did you think he was biologically mine?”
If he thought Kevin was hers, why had he never asked about Kevin’s father?
“Oh...” she said softly. “Oh. You thought...”
“How could I not think that? The timing was right, and you seemed so...angry to see me again. And so protective of Kevin.”
It all made sense to her now. Horrible, painful sense.
Jordan had wanted to be with his son.
Not her. But the son he thought he had fathered.
And now that he knew the truth...
Dear Reader,
This month we have some special treats in store for you, beginning with Nobody’s Princess, another terrific MAN OF THE MONTH from award-winning writer Jennifer Greene. Our heroine believes she’s just another run-of-the-mill kind of gal...but naturally our hero knows better. And he sets out to prove to her that he is her handsome prince...and she is his princess!
Joan Elliott Pickart’s irresistible Bishop brothers are back in Texas Glory, the next installment of her FAMILY MEN series. And Amy Fetzer brings us her first contemporary romance, a romantic romp concerning parenthood—with a twist—in Anybody’s Dad. Peggy Moreland’s heroes are always something special, as you’ll see in A Little Texas Two-Step, the latest in her TROUBLE IN TEXAS series.
And if you’re looking for fun and frolic—and a high dose of sensuality—don’t nuss Patty Salier’s latest, The Honeymoon House. If emotional and dramatic is more your cup of tea, then you’ll love Kelly Jamison’s Unexpected Father.
As always, there is something for everyone here at Silhouette Desire, where you’ll find the very best contemporary romance.
Enjoy!
Senior Editor
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O Box 609. Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
Kelly Jamison
Unexpected Father
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
KELLY JAMISON
began her writing career in sixth grade when she discovered that the weekly spelling assignment—to write a story using all the words on that week’s list—was more fun than recess. It continued to be fun, and hard work, from then on...from the humorous greeting cards she wrote on a freelance basis to the confession stories that scandalized her mother-in-law to the romances she first published under the pen name Kelly Adams.
Along the way she wrote for two newspapers—one so strapped for cash that reporters also had to borrow a camera from the woman next door for news photos. Kelly says she has all the ingredients for a happy life—her husband, a word processor, a nearby bookstore and a good supply of chocolate. She is always glad to hear from readers and can be reached at P.O. Box 5223, Quincy, Illinois 62305.
One
Hannah Brewster sat on the grass scowling at the two pickup trucks pulling into the driveway, her hands clenched on the shortened two-by-four lying across her lap. Just the name McClennon was enough to make her blood boil, and here came two of them now.
But these were the two older brothers, John and Jake, not Jordan McClennon, whose memory was still an aching bruise to her pride.
Hannah wouldn’t have come all the way from St. Louis today if she’d known any McClennons would be here, as well, but Ronnie Wardlow had neglected to mention that little detail until a few minutes ago. On purpose, she suspected.
Ronnie had invited her to help him and some friends build a new house for his mother, Esther. Hannah liked Ronnie and his mother, and she had jumped at the chance to get out of St. Louis and into the country air at Sandford, Illinois, on a sunny, early-May weekend. The whole plan had sounded fine until now.
The trucks drew to a stop beside Ronnie’s battered pickup, and two tall, dark men got out of the vehicle. McClennons, she was sure. They were certainly a good-looking family.
The second truck had a camper top on the back, and the driver stood behind it for a couple of minutes, adjusting something with the help of the McClennon brothers. When he stepped around the pickup into Hannah’s view, her heart leapt to her throat.
Jordan McClennon.
She started to stand up, then abruptly sat down again. She looked around in agitation, finally focusing on Ronnie. He gave her a helpless shrug.
Ronnie knew that she didn’t like Jordan, but he didn’t know the whole story.
It wouldn’t have mattered much to any other woman, she supposed—a man dumping a girl after two dates was hardly headline news—but she had been young and in love. For months that love had been secret—and totally one-sided—but then one red-letter day Jordan McClennon, founder and owner of McClennon Industries in St. Louis and Hannah’s employer, had bumped into her in the employees’ lounge and invited her to dinner.
Hannah had never considered herself attractive; at the time she’d been too thin and gangly, wore thick glasses and pulled her hair back in a drab ponytail for convenience. But she had bought a new dress for her first dinner with Jordan. He’d been polite and charming, and she’d returned home more in love than ever.
There was a second date. Hannah had found a reservoir of self-confidence in the wine, and when Jordan had suggested they stop at his apartment to pick up some papers before dropping her at her place, she’d agreed.
He gave her a tour of the apartment, and at the bedroom she found herself looping her arms around his neck and smiling up at him. Jordan took it from there. If there was a seduction, she had been a more than willing participant, if not the instigator. But that didn’t assuage her anger with Jordan.
He was handsome, he was articulate, he was intelligent, he was the walking embodiment of charm. And he’d never called her again after they’d made love.
Her grandmother was right, she decided. Men only wanted one thing. And when they got it, they moved on to the next conquest.
Her pride stung, even more so when she’d passed Jordan’s office two days later and had seen him in conference with a buxom blonde. Some conference. Her bosom was thrust into his face as she leaned over the desk next to him, and one hand with its manicured, fire-engine red press-on nails was draped teasingly over his.
Hannah would have continued working at McClennon Industries, would have continued with her dateless, colorless existence, because she was a Brewster, and that was what she had been taught. But circumstances intervened.
Her sister, Marybeth, the wild one in the family, had become pregnant out of wedlock, and Hannah had quit her job to help her out. When Hannah finally returned to St. Louis, it was with her sister’s child and to a different job.
Until this day she had not seen Jordan McClennon again.
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