Mr. Hall Takes a Bride

by Marie Ferrarella

  “Why are you trying to pick a fight?” Jordan asked.

  Sarajane’s chin went up. “I’m not picking a fight. I’m trying to make you better.”

  There was something about the way she looked when she became so incensed that aroused him. And goaded him on. “You’d be the first to complain about me.”

  “I’m not one of the bimbos you squire,” she informed him indignantly. “I’m a real person.”

  Something rippled through him as she drew in another breath. “You are at that.”

  He had no idea how it happened. How the heated words that were being exchanged like gunfire led him to take the next step. This was an argument about nothing. Nothing except the elephant in the living room: the very strong attraction he felt toward her.

  Because one minute, he was engaged in a duel of words. The next, there were no words.

  The kiss took center stage.

  Dearest Reader,

  So glad you could take this opportunity to join me on the next installment of the latest Logan series. Some of you might remember meeting Jordan Hall when I wrote about his sister Jenny in the last series. Jordan was the good guy who put up the money in a bachelor auction so that, unbeknownst to his sister, she would get a date with the man of her dreams—his best friend, Eric. Well, any guy that thoughtful (where do you get brothers like that?) deserves a story—and a lady—of his own.

  In this tale, he gets both. We watch an already good guy find the true meaning in life, not rich clients he can handily get off the hook, but poor, deserving ones who have nowhere to turn.

  Because of a difficult pregnancy, Jenny’s doctor orders her to bed. Unable to turn her back on her work, she turns to Jordan and pleads with him to fill in until she can find someone permanent. He does and it isn’t long before that someone permanent turns out to be him. All because Ms. Sarajane Gerrity opens his eyes—and his heart.

  Hope you like this and, as always, I wish you love.

  Marie Ferrarella

  MARIE FERRARELLA

  MR. HALL TAKES A BRIDE

  Books by Marie Ferrarella

  Silhouette Special Edition

  Her Good Fortune #1665

  Because a Husband Is Forever #1671

  The Measure of a Man #1706

  She’s Having a Baby #1713

  Her Special Charm #1726

  Husbands and Other Strangers #1736

  The Prodigal M.D. Returns #1775

  Mother in Training #1785

  *Mr. Hall Takes a Bride #1813

  Harlequin Next

  Starting from Scratch #17

  Finding Home #45

  The Second Time Around #73

  Silhouette Intimate Moments

  In Broad Daylight #1315

  Alone in the Dark #1327

  Dangerous Disguise #1339

  The Heart of a Ruler #1412

  The Woman Who Wasn’t There #1415

  Cavanaugh Witch #1431

  Silhouette Romantic Suspense

  Her Lawman on Call #1451

  MARIE FERRARELLA

  This USA TODAY bestselling and RITA® Award-winning author has written over one hundred and fifty novels for Silhouette, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide.

  To Patience Smith,

  my muse, my friend,

  with eternal gratitude.

  Contents

  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 One

  “C’mon, Jordan, please? You owe this to me.”

  Jordan Hall, high-profile defense attorney and much-sought-after man about town, had been en route to the airport to begin what he felt was a greatly deserved Hawaiian surfing vacation when a frantic call from his younger sister had brought him racing back to Portland and the house that she and her husband, his best friend, Eric Logan, shared with Jenny’s six-year-old adopted son, Cole. On the phone, Jenny had made it sound like a matter of life or death.

  Now that he had discovered that there was no death, imminent or otherwise, Jordan had pulled himself together, masked his initial concern and looked down at his six-months-pregnant sister, who’d forced herself into a semi-horizontal position on the sofa. Knowing Jenny, it was a compromise. The doctor had probably had a bed in mind when he’d given her strict orders to rest.

  Jordan crossed his arms and did his best to look annoyed, but Jenny was just too damn good to be annoyed at. She had a way of bringing out the best in everyone.

  But this time, he was doing his utmost to resist.

  “How, pray tell, do I ‘owe’ this to you?” he wanted to know, the “this” in question being temporarily taking her place at Advocate Aid, Inc., and dispensing legal advice with no compensation other than being on the receiving end of a grateful smile. “If we’re going to bandy about the subject of ‘owing,’ it’s you who actually ‘owe’ me, dear sister.” He saw her mouth drop open and felt a surge of triumph. Eric, perched on the arm of the sofa next to her, looked mildly amused by the exchange. “If not for me, you might still be buried hip-deep in charity work, never seeing the light of day or having Eric’s beatific smile bestowed on you on a daily basis.”

  “Beatific?” Eric echoed with a wide grin. He fluttered his lashes at him. “Why, Jordan, I never knew you felt that way about me.”

  Jordan grimaced. “I don’t, but for some reason, every card-carrying member of the female sex does. Including my sister,” he added needlessly, “your very pregnant wife.” Jordan looked pointedly at Jenny, continuing the stroll down memory lane. “If I hadn’t ‘arranged’ to have your friends bid on Eric in that ridiculous bachelors’ auction—”

  “As I recall, you were part of the auction, too,” Eric reminded him.

  Jordan shrugged casually. “What can I say? I’m a pushover for charity.”

  “And wealthy, good-looking women,” Jenny was quick to interject. It was a well-known fact that people in the circles Jordan traveled felt that her brother had put the play in playboy.

  Jordan’s eyes seemed to twinkle as he obligingly acknowledged, “That, too.”

  “That foremost,” Jenny countered, shifting on the sofa, feeling very much like a prisoner. She was a mover, a shaker. By definition, that sort of personality and calling necessitated mobility. Imitating a still-life painting like this was making her crazy. When she thought about having to do it for the next three months, it was all she could do to keep from screaming. But that would only frighten Cole, so she struggled to contain her edginess.

  Jordan looked at her, shaking his head. “Marriage has made you feisty, little sister.”

  Eric laughed. “Feistier,” he corrected his best friend. “Marriage has made her feistier. This woman was never a cupcake.”

  “Which is why I’m not going to give up.” Jenny congratulated herself on bringing the conversation back to its rightful place, centered on what she both wanted and needed her older brother to do. She’d come to her conclusion after a night of soul-searching. Also a night of calling everyone else she could think of to ask. Giving them first crack at filling in the very vital space. She’d gotten several tentative promises of “next month,” but no one was available immediately.

  Jordan was her last hope.

  “It’s only for three weeks,” she pleaded earnestly. “That should give me enough time to arrange for someone
else to come in and pick up the slack.”

  “Three weeks,” Jordan repeated. The look he gave his sister was fraught with suspicion. “By some odd coincidence, that’s also the exact length of my Hawaiian vacation.”

  “Exactly.” Jenny pounced on the lead-in her brother had handed her. “You were slated to go on vacation anyway. This way, you won’t miss any time at Morrison and Treherne.”

  Jordan sat down on the edge of the coffee table, facing his sister, and took her hand between both of his. “Let me define vacation, in case a workaholic like yourself has forgotten the meaning of the word. Vacation, as in lying on white sandy beaches with crystal-blue water lapping at your toes, a bikinied goddess lying beside you. Vacation, as in taking a long, languid cruise, sitting on the uppermost deck beside a pool, a bikinied goddess in the deck chair beside you. Vacation, as in—”

  Jenny pulled her hand away, glancing over to the far side of the room where Cole was playing with his action figures, afraid he might have overheard. But the little boy she’d taken into her heart as her own when her best friend had died looked completely preoccupied with the world he was creating. “We get the picture.”

  “Nowhere in that scenario, you might notice,” Jordan went on patiently, “does it call for me to be sitting in a two-by-four termite-riddled box, playing bleeding-heart advocate to thugs and criminals.”

  Jenny sat up ramrod-straight, taking offense for the people she had come to care about as much as she might have cared for distant relatives who needed her help and her understanding.

  “Just because they’re poor doesn’t mean they’re thugs and criminals, Jordy. You know that.” She looked at him, wondering if he was being serious or if he was just pulling her leg. She decided it had to be the latter. “I refuse to believe that you’re that shallow.”

  That lopsided smile she knew and loved told her that her heart was right. He was pulling her leg. She’d won. He was just playing it out a little longer.

  “I can bring you a note from my doctor,” Jordan offered.

  Two could play this game, Jenny thought. She threw off the blanket that Eric had tucked around her legs. She glanced toward her husband now. “Okay, he leaves me no choice, I have to go in.”

  Eric put his hands to her shoulders, holding her in place. “You have to have this baby, nothing else. The doctor said you needed bed rest.”

  But she shook her head. “Those people are counting on me.”

  “Your baby’s counting on you,” Eric countered.

  Jordan frowned. Jenny had already told him that Advocate Aid were down one lawyer. And there was what he felt amounted to a tempest in a teapot. Jenny had prevailed upon him to give legal advice to a nonprofit fertility organization called the Children’s Connection. A birth father, Thad Preston, was trying to get his fifteen minutes of fame by saying that his girlfriend gave up their child for adoption without his consent. He claimed to be suing for custody but what he was suing for was attention. It made for juicy reading when he brought his distorted version of the truth to the Portland Gazette.

  Once again, the Children’s Connection, just recovering from a series of unfortunate events, was cast in a bad light.

  But all that was temporary and would pass in time. He didn’t see the need to give up his vacation for either organization. “And if Advocate Aid, Inc., has to close its doors for a couple of weeks or three, would that really be such a big deal? Would it make that much of a difference?”

  Jenny stared at him. Was he serious? “You know how important time is in a trial. A person’s life can be permanently altered in the space of an hour. In the space of two minutes,” she emphasized with feeling, thinking about cases where the death penalty was involved. It was organizations such as her own that saw to it that justice was not only served, but equally distributed, even to those who couldn’t afford the price of a lawyer.

  “Jenny,” Jordan began patiently, “you’re talking about penny-ante cases. The ones I take all involve high stakes—”

  “Name me higher stakes than people’s dreams,” she challenged. When he didn’t answer immediately, she came in for the kill. “Jordy, you’re the smartest man I’ve ever known—no offense, honey,” she added, turning to look at Eric.

  Broad shoulders rose and fell nonchalantly, accompanied by an amused expression. “None taken.”

  “Speaking of whom,” Jordan’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Eric and nodded toward his brother-in-law. “Why can’t your illustrious husband get one of his lawyer buddies to take your place until you find someone else?”

  Eric looked at him pointedly. “I am.”

  “Besides me,” Jordan amended.

  “Everyone else I know with a law degree is wrapped up in some trial or other,” Eric told him.

  Jordan frowned at him. “How convenient.”

  “You’re the only one with time to spare, buddy,” Eric concluded.

  “Please, Jordan?” Jenny made another sincere entreaty. “Maybe you won’t wind up on the six o’clock news, but who’s to say these cases aren’t just as important to the people who are involved? Sure, there are cases involving criminal charges, but there are also cases that involve stopping foreclosures. The cases I see also deal with unfair lawsuits that steal everything from the accused, even when they’re innocent. Then there’s—”

  Jordan rolled his eyes and looked at his best friend. He could literally feel his vacation slipping away from him. “She really isn’t going to stop until I say yes, is she?”

  Eric’s amused expression only deepened. “She’s your little sister, Jordy. You should know that about her by now.”

  Yes, he did. He also knew Jenny was a walking heart with legs. He’d never seen anyone who cared so much about her fellow man—and woman—even if they didn’t deserve it.

  The last glimmer of his vacation faded off into the sunset. Since he was going first-class and had paid top dollar, he could easily exchange his ticket or get a refund. Nothing was being wasted—except for his time, he thought darkly.

  But this meant a lot to Jenny.

  Okay, how hard could it be? After all, he’d never lost a case yet and he was willing to bet every last one of his cases were far more complicated than anything he was going to face at Advocate Aid.

  “Okay,” he said with resignation. “I’ll do it.”

  “Jordy, you’re the best!” Leaning forward on the sofa, Jenny threw her arms around his neck.

  “Yes, I am.” Extricating himself, he rose to his feet. There were things he had to take care of first if he was going to do this for her. “And you’d better name this baby after me.”

  Cole picked this time to abandon his fighting figures and join them, throwing his arms around his favorite uncle’s waist.

  “I’ve got to go, sport,” he told the boy, petting Cole’s silky hair.

  “Even if it’s a girl?” Jenny wanted to know, referring to his request.

  Jordan nodded, keeping a straight face. “Even if it’s a girl. ‘Jordan’ works both ways these days, remember?”

  Jenny smiled for the first time since her brother had arrived at the house. For the first time since the doctor had knocked the air out of her lungs with his newest edict.

  “Just as long as you do, that’s all that counts.” She beckoned him to lean down and when he complied, she brushed her lips against his cheek. “Thanks, big brother, I owe you one.”

  He straightened, laughing. “You bet you do.”

  She knew that tone. Somehow, her big brother meant to collect. Jenny looked at her husband. “I kind of feel as if I’ve just made a deal with Rumpelstiltskin.”

  “Jordan’s taller,” Eric deadpanned.

  “Also faster,” Jordan interjected, making his way to the front door, Cole shadowing his every move. After Eric, he worshipped Jordan most. Neither man could do any wrong in his young eyes. “At least fast enough to beat you at racquetball last week.”

  Eric bit back a choice colorful word since Cole was in the ro
om. “That was a fluke.”

  Jordan looked at him smugly. “Would you care for a rematch?”

  “Love one,” Eric countered. “Meet you at the court at one on Friday?” They had a standing reservation at the racquetball courts every Friday at lunchtime.

  Jordan looked at his sister. “Brace yourself for a shattered husband.” He pulled opened the front door. “Okay, I’ve gotta fly.”

  “Can I watch?” Cole asked eagerly.

  “Maybe next time,” Jordan laughed, ruffling his hair. “See you, Jen,” he called back into the room. “Remember—” he winked when she looked up at him “—you name the baby after me.”

  As he closed the door behind Jordan, Eric put his arm around Cole and walked back to where Jenny was lying on the sofa. A bemused expression played across his lips. “Don’t you think that was a little over the top, threatening to go in despite the doctor’s orders?”

  She thought she’d been particularly passionate in her declaration. And she’d known Jordan wouldn’t allow her to take the risk, no matter how blasé he attempted to be about the matter.

  Jenny smiled, satisfied. “It worked, didn’t it?”

  Eric sat down on the sofa’s arm again and kissed the top of his wife’s head. “You know, Jordan and I have been friends just about forever and I never knew he was this malleable.”

  Cole curled up in the space next to Jenny. She tucked her arm around the boy, so grateful for the way her life had turned out. And Jordan was right, she did owe a great deal of it to him. But that admission was for another time.

  “You have to know what buttons to press,” she told Eric. “Beneath that devil-may-care, playboy exterior there really is a good guy.”

  Eric laughed under his breath. In his experience, Jordan could stand his ground with the best of them. This was a side he was unaccustomed to. “Lucky for you.”