That’s too much pressure. I never expected to feel like this. I’ve made a mess of one marriage. I can’t guarantee I’ll get it right with you. But I’ll try. Believe me, I’ll try.’
She reached up and stroked his face. ‘Dylan. I’m rubbish at relationships, too. It scares me that everything’s going to go wrong.’
‘But maybe it won’t. Not if you want me the way I want you.’
‘I do.’
‘Are you sure?’ She’d already walked away from him.
‘I’ve worked you out, now. You’re a goalpost shifter,’ Emmy said. ‘You never think you’re good enough—and that’s not your fault, it’s because your mum’s as selfish as my dad and she made you feel you weren’t good enough. Except you are good enough. You are. You’ve got the biggest heart. And I...’ She swallowed hard. ‘I love you too, Dylan. So the answer’s yes. Yes, I want to make you, me and Dylan a forever family. Yes, if we’re blessed and when Ty’s a little bit older, it might be nice to have another baby.’ She smiled. ‘We might even have more of a clue what we’re doing as parents, the second time round.’
The trickle of hope became a flood. He dropped to one knee, not caring that the foreshore was rocky and slippery and wet. ‘Emmy Jacobs, I know I ought to wait for that piece of paper to come through before I ask you, but I can’t. I want the rest of my life to start right now. Will you marry me?’
She leaned down to kiss him. ‘Yes. We’ll still make mistakes, Dylan. Neither of us is perfect. But we’ll be in it together. We’ll talk it through and we’ll make it work.’
He got to his feet and kissed her lingeringly. ‘You’re right. And we don’t have to be perfect. We just have to be ourselves. Together. I love you, Emmy.’
‘I love you, too.’ Her phone rang, and she smiled at him. ‘I think that might be Syb. Our cue to go home.’
Home, Dylan thought. He was home at last. Because home was wherever Emmy was. ‘To our baby. Because he is ours, Emmy. Just as you’re mine.’
‘And you’re mine.’
He nodded. ‘For now and forever’.
* * * * *
Merline Lovelace
In this Duchess Diaries novel, USA TODAY bestselling author Merline Lovelace shows how revenge can be sweet when you have a royal (phony) fiancée.
When the glossy magazine where Lady Sarah St. Sebastian works as an editor names Devon Hunter one of the Ten Sexiest Single Men, he is besieged by embarrassing attention. The perfect revenge? Force Sarah to play his fiancée during a business trip to Paris. Because of a recent family indiscretion, Sarah must agree if she wants to protect the St. Sebastian name. But in the City of Lights, their fake engagement unexpectedly leads to real desire—and dangerous complications….
A career Air Force officer, MERLINE LOVELACE served at bases all over the world. When she hung up her uniform for the last time, she decided to try her hand at storytelling. Since then more than twelve million copies of her books had been published in over thirty countries. Check her website at www.merlinelovelace.com or friend Merline on Facebook for news and information about her latest releases.
To Susan and Monroe and Debbie and Scott and most especially, le beau Monsieur Al. Thanks for those magical days in Paris. Next time, I promise not to break a foot—or anything else!
Ah, the joys of having two such beautiful, loving granddaughters. And the worries! Eugenia, my joyful Eugenia, is like a playful kitten. She gets into such mischief but always seems to land on her feet. It’s Sarah I worry about. So quiet, so elegant and so determined to shoulder the burdens of our small family. She’s only two years older than her sister but has been Eugenia’s champion and protector since the day those darling girls came to live with me.
Now Sarah worries about me. I admit to a touch of arthritis and have one annoying bout of angina, but she insists on fussing over me like a mother hen. I’ve told her repeatedly I won’t have her putting her life on hold because of me, but she won’t listen. It’s time, I think, to take more direct action. I’m not quite certain at this point just what action, but something will come to me. It must.
From the diary of Charlotte,
Grand Duchess of Karlenburgh
Sarah heard the low buzz but didn’t pay any attention to it. She was on deadline and only had until noon to finish the layout for Beguile’s feature on the best new ski resorts for the young and ultrastylish. She wanted to finish the mock-up in time for the senior staff’s weekly working lunch. If she didn’t have it ready, Alexis Danvers, the magazine’s executive editor, would skewer her with one of the basilisk-like stares that had made her a legend in the world of glossy women’s magazines.
Not that her boss’s stony stares particularly bothered Sarah. They might put the rest of the staff in a flophouse sweat, but she and her sister had been raised by a grandmother who could reduce pompous officials or supercilious headwaiters to a quivering bundle of nerves with the lift of a single brow. Charlotte St. Sebastian had once moved in the same circles as Princess Grace and Jackie O. Those days were long gone, Sarah acknowledged, as she switched the headline font from Futura to Trajan, but Grandmama still adhered to the unshakable belief that good breeding and quiet elegance could see a woman through anything life might throw at her.
Sarah agreed completely. Which was one of the reasons she’d refined her own understated style during her three years as layout editor for a magazine aimed at thirtysomethings determined to be chic to the death. Her vintage Chanel suits and Dior gowns might come from Grandmama’s closet, but she teamed the gowns with funky costume jewelry and the suit jackets with slacks or jeans and boots. The result was a stylishly retro look that even Alexis approved of.
The primary reason Sarah stuck to her own style, of course, was that she couldn’t afford the designer shoes and bags and clothing featured in Beguile. Not with Grandmama’s medical bills. Some of her hand-me-downs were starting to show their wear, though, and...
The buzz cut into her thoughts. Gaining volume, it rolled in her direction. Sarah was used to frequent choruses of oohs and aahs. Alexis often had models parade through the art and production departments to field test their hair or makeup or outfits on Beguile’s predominantly female staff.
Whatever was causing this chorus had to be special. Excitement crackled in the air like summer lightning. Wondering what new Jimmy Choo beaded boots or Atelier Versace gown was creating such a stir, Sarah swung her chair around. To her utter astonishment, she found herself looking up into the face of Sexy Single Number Three.
“Ms.
