Tailspin

She held a hand up. “Let me finish. After all, I was responsible for your decision.”

“Partly responsible. Have you ever thought that I might have needed to come home? That maybe I was a bit restless and bored before I learned about your surgery?”

She stared at him for a moment.

Nash fully sympathized with her surprise. It was the first time he’d admitted to himself that his current feeling of…restlessness may have predated his teaching assignment. He might have been courting boredom even in Afghanistan.

She narrowed her eyes. “You’ve got the same problem your father had when he was about your age. Our country’s wars are winding down. And you’re getting older. You’re starting to see that you can’t fly those fighter planes forever. I imagine facing the young men and women who’ll replace you in the classroom each day drives the point home even more sharply. So I’ll tell you what I told your father. You can’t stop time. You have to accept it and go with the flow.”

He raised his brows.

Her lips twitched again. “I know. It’s my milestone birthday we’re celebrating, but your thirtieth wasn’t that long ago. And you can’t be a fly-boy forever. Your father was getting a bit bored with the life of a pilot in peace time before the Gulf War erupted.”

Nash captured one of her hands in his again. As usual, she was spot-on about some of what he was feeling.

“You could always think of making a career change.”

He met her eyes without disguising the surprise in his. From the time he’d been a child, she’d supported his dream of one day following in his father’s footsteps and becoming a pilot in the Air Force. She’d never once put any kind of pressure on him to consider taking over one of the many companies she ran—in spite of the fact that when she’d lost his father, she’d lost the son she’d expected to one day fill her shoes.

He narrowed his eyes as a sudden thought occurred to him. “Something has changed. You’ve received some bad news from your doctors.”

“No, nothing like that. I’m fine. I’d tell you in a heartbeat if I wasn’t.” Maggie raised the hand holding hers and patted it. “I’m just planting a seed about the future. It’s my birthday. I have a right to plant seeds.”

Nash laughed. “You have the right to plant seeds whenever you want.” And they had a tendency to take root and grow. Johnny Appleseed had nothing on his grandmother in that department. But he was beginning to wonder just what seed she’d intended to plant when she’d brought him up here to the balcony.

Maggie continued to meet his gaze. “I also have a right to worry. And perhaps feel a bit guilty.”

“Guilty? About what?”

“Your intolerance of boredom is probably embedded in a gene you’ve inherited directly from me. None of the Nashes were long on patience. And your impatience as a baby is how you came to be called by your middle name. When what you’ve inherited from my side of the family is mixed in with what you’ve inherited from the black sheep on the Fortune side of the family. Well?” She threw up her hands. “It’s worrisome.”

“You’re not planning on giving me the Jeremiah Fortune lecture again?”

Her eyes widened. “You remember him, then?”

His eyes narrowed. “If you can call up the names of my pet gerbils, I can certainly remember Jeremiah’s. You were always lecturing me that if I didn’t mend my ways, I’d grow up to be just like him instead of my father. I also remember that when I sassed you by asking just how badly a Fortune heir could turn out, you filled me in on my ancestor’s untimely and grim demise.”

Maggie remembered every detail of what she’d told him. The story was a good one, and she’d used it ruthlessly. Jeremiah had been the younger brother of Nash’s great-great-great-grandfather, the first Thaddeus. Though the details were sketchy, the story had the drama of a soap opera. After the two Fortune brothers had settled in Colorado and discovered a rich vein of gold, they’d argued over a woman. Tradition held that Thaddeus had won the woman and Jeremiah had run off to prospect for more gold on his own. Two years later he’d been hanged as a horse thief.

“Time to come clean, Grams,” Nash said. “You didn’t call me up here to remind me that I might have a few genes from a black sheep in my DNA. What’s the real reason?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Maggie saw the real reason making her way across the terrace below them. Bianca Quinn had arrived right on schedule. Even now, Father Mike was raising his hand in greeting. Thank heavens Nash wasn’t looking out at the party anymore. Because she hadn’t finished yet. “I want a favor.”

“Anything.”

“I’ve hired a writer and commissioned her to write a book on the history of the Fortune family. There’ll be an emphasis on the early years, but she’s going to chronicle the entire saga right up to the present.”

She noted surprise flicker in his eyes, then curiosity.

“Aren’t you nervous about dragging all of the skeletons out of the closet?”

Maggie laughed. “I think it should prove highly amusing. Scandals sell.”

“I’m assuming you checked out this writer’s credentials.”

“Not to worry. I had your friend Gabe run a thorough background check. And she’s good. Her first book made the Times extended book list.”

“It sounds like you’re right on top of everything, as usual. How can I help?”

She beamed a smile at him. “I want you to cooperate fully with her. She’ll want to interview you as the current Fortune heir and one of Denver’s most eligible bachelors. And she’s been away from Denver for a while. I just want you to make her feel as comfortable as possible while she’s settling in to work on the project. Be nice to her.”

Maggie was careful to keep her expression bland, but she hadn’t raised a fool. Nash knew that she was up to something. She also figured that by now Bianca had joined Father Mike and Nash’s friends at the far end of the pool. So it was nearly time.

“You’re worrying me, Grams. Just how ugly is she? And even if she were, why would you think I wouldn’t be nice to her?”

“Because the woman I’ve hired to write the Fortune family saga is Bianca Quinn. She’s just arrived and she’s joined your friends.”

Nash whipped his gaze back to the group he and his grandmother had left earlier at the far end of the pool. His eyes fastened on her immediately. A tall blonde, slim as a wand in a white sundress. Though her back was to him, recognition instantly flooded his system. So did the memories. Feelings he’d buried long ago shot to the surface. A mix of love, desire, anger and hurt froze him to the spot.

Unable to move, he absorbed the long slender legs, the narrow waist, the honey-colored hair that fell to her shoulders. He’d known every inch of her and he hadn’t forgotten a single detail. She matched perfectly with the image that he hadn’t been aware he still carried in his mind.

What the hell was it doing there?

Then, as if she were aware of his gaze on her, she turned and glanced up at the balcony. Like a two-fisted punch to the gut, he felt desire, hot and raw. Not a memory, this time. The real thing.

Then he couldn’t think at all. It was as if no time at all had passed. The impulse to go to her was so strong. He wasn’t aware until he felt the warmth of Maggie’s hands on one of his that he’d gripped the balcony railing.

Glancing down, he noted the whiteness of his knuckles. What had been his plan? To just leap onto the terrace and run to her?

No way. Time had passed. He wasn’t a nineteen-year-old anymore. Nash drew in a deep breath and let it out. No other woman had ever affected him the way Bianca Quinn had. Evidently, she still could.

He drew in another breath. He was older now. And he knew a lot more about women than he had at nineteen.

So he’d handle her. For his grandmother’s sake. But it wasn’t his promise to his grandmother that kept his eyes lingering on Bianca. Without thinking he touched a finger to his chest just where the medal lay beneath his uniform. He’d find a way to handle her.

Turning to Maggie, he smiled. “I’ll be happy to give her an interview. Why don’t we join the party?”

2

Five minutes earlier…

WITH NERVELESS FINGERS, Bianca Quinn handed the keys of her car over to the valet.

“Welcome to Fortune Mansion, Miss Quinn.”

At her surprised look, he smiled. “Ms. Fortune said you’d be arriving right about now. She asked us to keep an eye out for you. Just follow the lighted path around the side of the house. The party’s in the garden and you’re in plenty of time for the birthday cake. Enjoy.”

Enjoy. Maybe she could once she got through this first meeting with Nash Fortune. The path was only a few feet to her right, and she could hear the sound of laughter and the faint strains of Vivaldi. But for a moment she simply couldn’t make herself move.