Harlequin Romance September 2013 Bundle: Bound by a BabyIn the Line of DutyPatchwork Family in the OutbackStranded with the Tycoon

by Kate Hardy

  ‘OK. Three months.’ She paused. ‘But if anything big comes up, we discuss it before the situation gets out of hand.’

  That worked for him. ‘Agreed.’

  ‘So that’s settled.’ She lifted her chin. ‘Before we go any further, I need to know something. Is there anyone who’d be upset about us sharing a house?’

  He frowned. ‘I’ve already told you, I’m separated from Nadine. It won’t be a problem.’

  ‘What about the woman you had an affair with?’

  He stared at her in disbelief. ‘What woman?’

  ‘Oh, come on. It’s the main reason why marriages break down. Someone has an affair. Usually the man.’

  Was she really that cynical?

  Had that happened to her?

  He couldn’t remember Pete or Ally ever talking about going to Emmy’s wedding, but at the end of the day a marriage certificate was just a piece of paper. Maybe Emmy had been living with someone who’d let her down in that way. ‘Not that it’s any of your business why my marriage broke up, but for the record neither of us had an affair,’ he said tightly.

  Colour stained her cheeks, ‘I apologise.’

  Which was something, he supposed. ‘There’s nobody who would be affected by us sharing a house,’ he said quietly.

  Or was there another reason why she’d asked? A way to introduce the subject, maybe, because there was someone in her life who’d be upset? ‘If it’s a problem for you, I’m happy to—’

  ‘There’s nobody,’ she cut in.

  Was it his imagination, or did she suddenly look tired and miserable and lonely?

  No. He was just reflecting how he felt on her. Tired and miserable, because he’d barely slept since the news of the crash; and lonely, because the one person Dylan could’ve talked to about this—well, he’d been in that crash and he wasn’t here anymore.

  ‘Though I could do without a string of dates being paraded through the house,’ she added.

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m not quite divorced yet. Do you really think I’m dating?’ Despite the fact that he knew his almost-ex wife was, he wasn’t.

  She grimaced. ‘Sorry. I take that back. It’s not your fault I have a rubbish taste in men. I shouldn’t tar you with the same brush as them.’

  He’d been right, then. Someone had let her down. More than one, he’d guess.

  Dylan had never noticed before, probably because he’d been more preoccupied with being annoyed by her, but Emmy Jacobs was actually pretty. Slender, with a fine bone structure highlighted by her gamine haircut. Her hair was defiantly plum: not a natural shade, but it suited her, bringing out the depths in her huge grey eyes.

  Though what on earth was he doing, thinking about Emmy in those sorts of terms?

  Better put it down to the shock of bereavement. He and Emmy might be about to share a house and the care of a baby, but that was as far as it would go. They’d be lucky to keep things civil between them. And he definitely wasn’t in the market for any kind of relationship. Been there, done that, and failed spectacularly. It had taught him to steer clear, in future. He was better off on his own. It meant there was nobody to disappoint. Nobody to walk away, the way his mother had and Nadine had.

  ‘I assume you have a set of keys to Pete and Ally’s house?’ he asked.

  She nodded. ‘You, too?’

  ‘So I could keep an eye on the place while they’re not there. For emergencies. Which I always thought would be a burst pipe or something like that. Not...’ His throat closed, and he couldn’t get the words out. For the first time in years, he was totally speechless.

  To his surprise, Emmy reached across the table to take his hand and squeezed it briefly. With sympathy, not pity. ‘Me, too. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and discover that this is all just some incredibly realistic nightmare and everything’s just fine. Except I’ve woken up too many times already and found out that it’s not.’

  Whatever her faults—and Dylan knew there were a lot of them—Emmy’s feelings for Ally and Pete were in no doubt. Surprising himself further, he returned the squeeze. ‘And we’ve still got the funeral to go through.’

  She sighed and withdrew her hand. ‘I guess their parents will want to arrange it.’

  ‘You said yourself, Pete’s dad is elderly and Ally’s mum isn’t well. They’ll need support. I was going to offer to sort it out for them. If they tell me what they want, I can arrange it.’

  ‘That’s good of you to take the burden off their shoulders.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Count me in on the support front. Anything you need me to do, tell me and I’ll do it.’

  She wasn’t being polite, Dylan knew. The tears were shimmering in her eyes again. And he wanted to get out of here as fast as he could, before she actually started crying. ‘Thanks. I guess we’d better exchange phone numbers. Home, work, whatever.’

  She nodded, and took her mobile phone from her handbag. It was a matter of seconds to give each other the details. ‘And we’ll meet at the house after work tomorrow to sort out the rota.’

  ‘OK. I’ll call you when I’m on my way.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She drained her cup. ‘I’d better get back to Tyler. See you later.’

  He watched her walk out of the café. The woman who annoyed him more than anyone he’d ever met. The woman he was going to move in with tomorrow.

  Yeah, life was really throwing him a curveball. And he was just going to have to deal with it. Somehow.

  * * *

  The next morning, Emmy unlocked the door to Pete and Ally’s three-storey Georgian house in Islington, pressed in the code for the alarm, and put her small suitcase down in the hallway.

  ‘It’s just you and me for now, Ty,’ she said softly to the baby, who was securely strapped into his sling and cradled against her heart. ‘We’re home. Except—’ her breath caught ‘—it’s going to be with me and Dylan looking after you, from now on, instead of your mum and dad.’

  It still felt wrong. But over the course of the day she managed to make a list of the rest of the things she needed to bring from her flat, feed Tyler, give him a bath and put him to bed in his cot, and make a basic spaghetti sauce for dinner so that all she’d have to do was heat it through and cook some pasta when Dylan turned up after he’d finished work.

  Home.

  Would she ever come to think of this place as home? Emmy thought with longing of her own flat in Camden. It was small, but full of light; and it was hers. From next week, a stranger would be living there and enjoying the views over the local park. And she would be living here in a much more spacious house—the sort she would never have been able to afford on her own—with Dylan and Tyler.

  Almost like a family.

  Just what she’d always wanted.

  Well, she didn’t want Dylan, she amended. But Emmy had envied part of her best friend’s life: having a husband who loved her and a gorgeous baby. Something Emmy had wanted, herself. A real family.

  ‘But I didn’t want to have it this way, Ally,’ she said softly. ‘I wanted someone of my own. Someone who wouldn’t let me down.’ Someone that maybe somebody else should’ve picked for her, given how bad her own choices of life partner had been in the past.

  And that family she was fantasising about was just that: a fantasy. The baby wasn’t really hers, and neither was the house. And she was sharing the house with Dylan Harper, as a co-guardian. She couldn’t think of anyone less likely to be the love of her life, just as she knew that she was the exact opposite of the kind of women Dylan liked. Chalk and cheese wasn’t the half of it.

  But then again, Tyler might not be her flesh and blood, but he was her responsibility now. Her godson. A baby she’d known for every single day of his little life. A baby she’d cradled in her arms when he was only a few hours old, sitting on the side of her bes
t friend’s hospital bed and feeling the same surge of love she’d felt for the woman who’d been as close as a sister to her.

  She drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms round her legs, blinking away the tears. ‘I promise you I’ll love Tyler as if he was my own, Ally,’ she said softly into the empty room. ‘I’ll do my best by him.’

  She just hoped that her best would be good enough. Though this was one thing she really couldn’t afford to fail at. There wasn’t a plan B.

  The lights on the baby listener glowed steadily, and Emmy couldn’t hear a thing; Tyler was obviously sound asleep. She glanced at her watch. Hopefully Dylan wouldn’t be too much longer. In the meantime, she had a job to do. She uncurled and headed back to the kitchen, where she took a large piece of card and marked it out into a two-week rota for childcare and chores. She worked steadily, putting in different coloured sticky notes to show which were her slots and which were Dylan’s.

  All the way through, she kept glancing at her watch. There was still no sign of Dylan, and it was getting on to half-past seven.

  This was ridiculous. Had he forgotten that he was meant to be here, sorting things out with her? Or was he just in denial?

  And to think he’d pegged himself as the sensible, organised one.

  Yeah, right.

  Irritated, she picked up her mobile phone and rang him.

  He answered within two rings. ‘Dylan Harper.’ Though he sounded absent, as if his attention was elsewhere.

  ‘It’s Emmy,’ she said crisply. ‘Emmy Jacobs.’ Just in case he was trying to block that out, too.

  There was a pause. ‘Oh.’

  ‘Are you not supposed to be somewhere right now?’ She made her voice supersaccharine.

  ‘You suggested we meefairt at the house today after work.’

  ‘Mmm-hmm. Which is where I am now. So are you expecting me to stay up until midnight or whenever you can be bothered to turn up and sort things through?’

  He sighed. ‘Don’t nag.’

  Nag? If he’d been fair about this, she wouldn’t have to nag. ‘This is meant to be about teamwork, Dylan. There’s no “I” in team,’ she reminded him.

  ‘Oh, spare me the clichés, Emmy,’ he drawled.

  Her patience finally gave out. ‘Just get your backside over here so we can sort things out,’ she said, and hung up.

  CHAPTER THREE

  IT WAS ANOTHER hour before Emmy heard the front door open, and by that point she was ready to climb the walls with frustration.

  Be conciliatory, she reminded herself. Do this for Pete and Ally. And Tyler. Even though you want to smack the man over the head with a wok, you have to be nice. At least for now. Make things work. It’s only for three months, and then he’ll realise that it’d be best if you looked after Tyler on your own. Come on, Emmy. You can do this. Smile.

  ‘Good evening. Is pasta OK with you for dinner?’ she asked when he walked into the kitchen.

  He looked surprised. ‘You cooked dinner for me?’

  ‘As I was here, yes. By the way, that means it’s your turn to cook for us tomorrow.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ He looked wary.

  ‘One thing you need to know. If I get hungry, I get grumpy.’ She gave him a level stare. ‘Don’t make me wait in future. You really won’t like me then.’ Which was a bit ironic. He didn’t like her now, and he hadn’t even seen her on a really bad day.

  ‘You could’ve eaten without me,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t have minded just reheating something in the microwave.’

  ‘I had no idea how long you were going to be, and I would’ve felt bad if you’d turned up while I was halfway through eating my dinner.’ She paused. ‘Do you really work an hour’s commute away from here?’

  ‘No. I work in Docklands. About half an hour away.’ At least he had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘I had to finish something, first.’

  She blew out a breath. ‘OK. Take the lecture as read. We’re sharing Tyler’s care so, in future, you’re either going to have to learn to delegate, or you’ll have to work from home when the baby’s napping.’

  Hearing his godson’s name seemed to galvanise Dylan. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Asleep in his cot.’ She gestured to the kitchen table. ‘Sit down. I’ve made a start on the rota, given what we discussed yesterday morning. Perhaps you can review it while I finish cooking dinner, and move any of the sticky notes if you need to.’

  ‘Sticky notes?’ He looked puzzled.

  ‘Because it’s a provisional rota. Sticky notes mean it’s easy to move things around without the rota getting messy. Once we’ve agreed our slots, I’ll write it in properly. I’ll get it laminated. And then we can use sticky notes day by day to make any changes to the rota—that way it’ll be an obvious change so we’ll both remember it.’

  ‘OK.’ He looked at her. ‘Sorry.’

  Dylan Harper had apologised to her? That was a first. Actually, no, it was the second time he’d said sorry to her in as many days. And, even though Emmy thought that he more than owed her that apology just now, she decided to be gracious about it. Be the bigger person. ‘It’s a bit of a radical lifestyle change for both of us. I think it’ll take us a while to get used to it.’

  He nodded. ‘True.’

  She concentrated on cooking the pasta and heating the sauce, then served up their meal at the kitchen table.

  He put the card to one side. ‘The rota looks fine to me. I notice it’s a two-week one.’

  ‘I thought that would be fair, giving each other alternate weekends off.’

  ‘Yes, that’s fair,’ he agreed. He ate a mouthful of the pasta. ‘And this is good. Thank you. I wasn’t expecting dinner. I was going to make myself a sandwich or something.’

  She knew exactly where he was coming from. ‘I do that too often. It doesn’t feel worth cooking for one, does it?’

  ‘Especially if cooking isn’t your thing.’ He blew out a breath. ‘I never expected to be living with—well, you.’

  He’d made that perfectly clear. He really didn’t have to harp on about it. ‘We’ll just have to make the best of it, for Tyler’s sake,’ she said dryly.

  ‘Agreed. How did you get on with the mortgage and the letting agency?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s all sorted. I’m letting my flat in Camden from Monday. You?’

  ‘It’s a short-term lease. Nadine has the house.’

  His wife. ‘Have you told her about this?’

  His expression said very clearly, that’s none of your business, and she shut up. No, it wasn’t her business. And he’d already said that nobody would be upset by him sharing a house and Tyler’s care with her.

  ‘I’ll go back to my place tonight to pick up the basics, and move the rest in over the next few days.’ He looked at her. ‘I assume you’ve done the same?’

  ‘Yes to the basics today, but I haven’t chosen a room yet. I was waiting for you.’ She grimaced. ‘I’m really glad Ally and Pete have two spare bedrooms as well as the nursery. I don’t think I could face using their room.’

  ‘Me, neither.’ He shrugged. ‘Which of the spare rooms I have doesn’t bother me. Pick whichever one you like.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Though it wasn’t the bedroom that concerned her most. ‘Can I use Pete’s study? I work from home,’ she explained, ‘and I need somewhere to set up my equipment. And that means a room with decent lighting.’

  She was glad she’d been conciliatory when he said, ‘That’s fine by me. I can work anywhere with a laptop and a briefcase. So you have, what, some kind of workbench?’

  It was the first time he’d ever shown any interest in her work, and it unnerved her slightly. She wasn’t used to Dylan being anything other than abrupt to her. ‘Yes, and I have a desk where I sketch the pieces before I make them. And
before Tyler gets mobile I’ll need to get a baby gate fixed on the doorway. I don’t want him anywhere near my tools because they’re sharp and dangerous.’ She looked at him. ‘Are you any good at DIY?’

  ‘No. I’d rather pay someone to do it,’ he said.

  That was refreshing. The men she’d dated in the past had all taken the attitude that having a Y chromosome meant that they’d automatically be good at DIY, and they weren’t prepared to admit when they were hopeless and couldn’t even put a shelf on straight. Then again, she wasn’t actually dating Dylan. He might be easy on the eye—she had to admit that he was good-looking—but he was the last man she’d ever want to date. He was way too uptight. ‘OK. I know the number of a good handyman. I’ll get it sorted.’

  He looked at their empty plates. ‘I haven’t organised a cleaner yet.’

  ‘And I wouldn’t expect a cleaner to do dirty dishes,’ Emmy said crisply. ‘Especially as Ally and Pete have a dishwasher.’

  ‘Point taken. I’ll stack the dishwasher, then go and pick up my stuff.’

  She chose her room while he was out, opting for the room she’d stayed in several times as a guest. It was strange to think that—unless things changed dramatically during their three-month trial—she’d be living here until Tyler had grown up. And even stranger to think she’d be sharing the house with Dylan Harper. Even if it might only be for a short time.

  Still, she’d made a promise to Ally. She wouldn’t back out.

  She unpacked the small case she’d brought with her, then checked on Tyler. He was still sound asleep. Unable to resist, she reached down to touch his cheek. Such soft, soft skin. And he was so vulnerable. She and Dylan really couldn’t let him down, whatever their doubts about each other. ‘Sleep tight, baby,’ she whispered, and went downstairs to the kitchen to wait for Dylan. She’d left the baby listener on; she glanced at it to make sure the lights were working, then put a cello concerto on low and began to sketch some ideas for the commission she’d been working on before the whole world had turned upside down.

  * * *