The From Paris With Love And Regency Season Of Secrets Ultimate Collection. Кэрол Мортимер

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The From Paris With Love And Regency Season Of Secrets Ultimate Collection - Кэрол Мортимер


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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 best 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,


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