Harlequin Romance April 2015 Box Set by Jennifer Faye and Kate Hardy Jessica Gilmore Michelle Douglas Page B

that... He rested his forehead against the glass sliding door, welcomingits coolness against his skin. They’d better hope this cookbook did well.
Really
well.
    ‘Malcolm?’
    It hit him that her voice lacked its usual stridence, though it could by no means be considered friendly.
    ‘Please send the bills to my lawyer. I’ll take care of them.’ His heart pounded. ‘How’s Ethan?’
    ‘He’s doing as well as can be expected.’
    It was her standard line wheneverhe asked. And he always asked. He didn’t ask her to send his best to the younger man. She’d made it clear that Ethan wanted nothing to do with him.
    ‘How...?’ She cleared her throat. ‘How are
you
?’
    He nearly dropped the phone. He coughed and swallowed back his automatic reply—
fine
. That would seem a mockery, considering Ethan’s condition. ‘I...I’m working hard at wrestling this cookbookinto shape.’ She knew he meant all its profits to go to Ethan.
    ‘Right. Goodbye, Malcolm.’
    ‘Uh...goodbye.’
    He stared at the phone. Normally she hung up without so much as a by-your-leave. What on earth was going on?
    He threw the phone back to the desk and dragged a hand through his hair. Was everything really okay with Ethan? Had he suffered some setback? He paced across theroom. Could Diana have said something to Jo? Who knew? Maybe they’d had a moment of woman-to-woman bonding. Maybe—
    ‘She’s a cheery soul, isn’t she?’
    Hell
.
    He clattered back down the stairs. Jo wasn’t in the kitchen. She wasn’t in the living or dining rooms either, but as he walked through the house he couldn’t help noticing how light and airy it all seemed. The curtains were pulledback and sunlight poured in at freshly cleaned windows. The heavy wooden furniture gleamed, the rugs were plush underfoot, and plump scatter cushions invited him to recline on the sofa. Not that he spent any time in this part of the house any more.
    Why not?
    He ground his teeth together. His life consisted of eat, sleep and work. It didn’t leave room for loafing on the sofa in front ofthe television.
    He pushed out to the veranda and strode halfway down the steps to survey the view in front of him. But there was no sign of a tall, lush woman striding down that field of native grass, or along the beach with Bandit. Maybe she was pegging laundry on the line. He turned back.
    ‘Are you looking for me?’
    He started at the voice to his left and found Jo on her knees,pulling weeds from a garden bed. He was pretty sure that wasn’t part of her job description.
    He nodded towards the few spindly rose bushes. ‘I’m not sure you need to worry about those.’
    ‘I want to.’
    Whatever...
He planted his legs. ‘What did you say to Mrs Devlin?’
    ‘Ah.’ She went back to digging. ‘I told her to wake up to herself.’
    He choked. ‘You
what
?’ He dropped tothe bottom step, head in hands. ‘Hell, Jo, the poor woman has been worried half out of her wits and—’
    ‘I said it in a nice way.’
    He lifted his head.
    ‘I didn’t say the actual words,
Wake up to yourself
.’
    That had been her message, though.
    ‘She had a big go at me for being here. I didn’t like her insinuation, so I set her straight.’
    He opened his mouth. After a momenthe shut it again. He deserved everything Diana threw at him, but Jo didn’t. She’d had every right to defend herself, to demand respect.
    ‘When she started mouthing off that you didn’t deserve the luxury of a housekeeper I...’ She shrugged.
    ‘You what?’
    ‘I told her you were working so hard you were in danger of falling ill. And I made it clear that if that happened you wouldn’t beable to earn. And that, therefore, her cash cow would dry up.’
    ‘Tell me you put it nicer than that?’
    ‘I expect I did.’ She dusted off her hands and rested back on her heels. ‘Like you, she’s been focussing on all the wrong things.’
    His mouth dried. What else had Jo said to the poor woman?
    ‘I told her she needed