A Baby in His In-Tray Read online

  Taking care of baby

  With the boss!

  When Liv Gilmour’s identical twin sister begs her to take her place for a week to work for business hotshot Lord Sebastian Tyrrell, she can’t say no—after all, the boss will be away. Until someone abandons a baby with a note demanding Sebastian take care of it. Suddenly Sebastian’s swift return sees Liv up close and personal with the sexy boss...and a baby who needs them both!

  “We have a duty to Jemima, a responsibility.”

  Liv paced back into the living room to stare down at the sleeping baby. She was an innocent in all of this.

  Liv had known Jemima for all of three days, and yet she’d do anything now to protect her.

  She rose and spun around to find Sebastian right behind her. She took an instinctive step backward, the scent of cinnamon and something darker like aniseed wrapping about her. With a smothered oath he seized her shoulders before she could fall over the baby carrier.

  “Careful.” He moved her three steps away from it.

  The warmth of his hands burned through the thin material of her jumper, sending a drugging surge of heat coursing through her blood.

  His hands dropped abruptly back to his sides, and this time it was he who took a hasty step back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “No problem,” she said before gesturing that they should return to the kitchen.

  She preceded him. When she turned back, she found him staring down at the baby with such gentleness her heart turned in her chest. He reached down to pull the cover up around the baby more fully. “Don’t you worry about a thing, little one. I’ll find your mama for you. I promise.”

  “Yes,” she said, before she even realized she was going to say anything.

  He turned to stare at her, straightened. “Yes?”

  “To your solution. I think it’s a good one. Just let me pack a bag.”

  Dear Reader,

  Ever since I was a little girl I’ve been fascinated by twins. I so wanted to be a twin. I whiled away many an idle hour dreaming I’d been adopted, separated from my twin at birth, fantasizing how one day we’d be reunited. Mind you, I didn’t want to be just any twin—I wanted to be an identical twin. Just the thought of being able to switch places without anyone knowing filled me with glee.

  In hindsight, it’s probably just as well I don’t have an identical twin. I suspect too much trouble would’ve ensued. :) But one of the best things about being a writer is the opportunity to vicariously play out one’s fantasies in the pages of a book. Hence, A Baby in His In-Tray, my twin-swap story, was born.

  Add into the mix an abandoned baby, a grumpy boss and an historic mansion right out of the pages of a Jane Austen novel and you have the recipe for a whole lot of fun and games...along with a large serving of nail-biting agitation when attraction and love raise the stakes.

  I hope you enjoy Olivia and Sebastian’s journey to a happily-ever-after as much I did.

  Hugs,

  Michelle

  A BABY IN HIS IN-TRAY

  Michelle Douglas

  Michelle Douglas has been writing for Harlequin since 2007, and believes she has the best job in the world. She lives in a leafy suburb of Newcastle, on Australia’s east coast, with her own romantic hero, a house full of dust and books and an eclectic collection of ’60s and ’70s vinyl. She loves to hear from readers and can be contacted via her website, michelle-douglas.com.

  Books by Michelle Douglas

  Harlequin Romance

  The Vineyards of Calanetti

  Reunited by a Baby Secret

  The Wild Ones

  Her Irresistible Protector

  The Rebel and the Heiress

  The Redemption of Rico D’Angelo

  Road Trip with the Eligible Bachelor

  Snowbound Surprise for the Billionaire

  The Millionaire and the Maid

  A Deal to Mend Their Marriage

  An Unlikely Bride for the Billionaire

  The Spanish Tycoon’s Takeover

  Sarah and the Secret Sheikh

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

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  For Beth, whose quirky and offbeat sense of humor always makes me laugh.

  Praise for

  Michelle Douglas

  “Captivatingly sweet! Great characters, a heartwarming story line and just a whole lot of feel-good reading!”

  —Goodreads on The Spanish Tycoon’s Takeover

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  EPILOGUE

  EXCERPT FROM HER LAS VEGAS WEDDING BY ANDREA BOLTER

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘WHAT I’M SAYING, Liz, is that someone has left a baby on your—my—’ she amended, aware that Liz had already corrected her twice so far this phone call ‘—desk!’

  ‘A baby?’ Liz parroted for the third time, and Olivia Grace Gilmour closed her eyes and dragged in a breath—a long, deep, calming breath. In through her nose and out through her mouth. No matter how much she might want to, she couldn’t take her twin to task for her incredulity. She could hardly believe it herself.

  Except seeing was believing.

  She peered once more into the baby carrier at the sleeping infant.

  ‘Livvy, I...’

  Liv waited but nothing else was forthcoming, and her heart rate kicked up another notch.

  ‘Where’s Judith?’

  Judith was Liz’s assistant. ‘She called in sick.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Good?’ She tried to keep the shrill note out of her voice. A partner in confusion and concern would be welcome at the moment. But Liz was right. It was just as well Judith wasn’t here to witness her panic. Liv didn’t want to give the game away. She swallowed and tried to modulate her voice. ‘There was a letter addressed to your boss tucked into the side of the baby carrier.’

  ‘Your boss,’ Liz corrected. If a voice could sound green, hers sounded green.

  ‘My boss,’ Liv managed through gritted teeth.

  Never had agreeing to stand in for her twin at her day job seemed a crazier move than it did right at this very moment. But it was only for a week and Sebastian Tyrell—Liz’s boss—was away. Not that he sallied forth all that often from his estate in Lincolnshire, from where he apparently oversaw operations. But with him being away it meant she shouldn’t even need to speak to him on the phone. This week should’ve been non-eventful, mission possible, a walk in the park. Liz had promised her it’d be a piece of cake.

  Except now there was a baby.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind maniacal laughter sounded.

  She stared into the carrier at the cherubically sleeping baby—the teensy-tiny baby. ‘Heavens, Liz, it’s little. She can’t be more than four or five months old.’

  ‘Oh, God.’ If possible, Liz’s voice turned greener. Liv grimaced. Her twin had never been good with babies. And now—

  ‘Have you read the letter?’

  Liv swung away from the baby, seized the letter and paced to the window overlooking a busy inner-London street, a sliver of t
he Thames in the distance, glinting silver in the afternoon light.

  ‘Of course I’ve read the letter!’ It was why she’d rung. It gave no clue whatsoever to the baby’s identity. And she had no idea what to do. ‘It says “Sebastian”—not Dear, not Seb, but “Sebastian—I can’t do this any more. It’s not fair. You owe me. Do not let baby Jemima down!”’ She glared at the inoffensive-looking piece of paper. ‘“Not” is underlined three times. It ends in an exclamation mark.’ She pulled in another long breath. ‘It’s not signed.’

  ‘Not signed?’ Liz’s voice rose. ‘Dear God, Livvy, I’m stuck in Turkey in the middle of a plane strike. It’ll take me days to get home and—’

  ‘Relax, Liz!’ The words shot out of her with more confidence than she’d dreamed possible, but she recognised the panic in her twin’s voice and needed to allay it. Liz was pregnant and she needed to stay calm. ‘I’m not asking you to come home. You need to stick to your plan.’

  What Liz didn’t need was additional stress. Dear God, her sister had enough on her plate at the moment. Liv mentally kicked herself for troubling Liz with this except...except she’d panicked herself. ‘Look, seriously, I can take care of everything at this end. I was just keeping you apprised of developments like I promised I would.’ She dragged a hand back through her hair. ‘And I thought you might have some idea where this baby had come from.’

  ‘I haven’t the foggiest. I can’t think of a single baby he has in his life.’

  ‘Well...obviously somewhere along the line he became a father.’

  A strangled noise on the other end of the phone was Liz’s only reply.

  She swallowed. Did Liz’s boss even know he had a child?

  ‘Oh, what a mess! But Livvy, I can’t shed any light on this at all. I wasn’t joking when I said the most personal thing Mr Tyrell and I have ever shared was our mutual concern over an accountant I’d hired. I mean, I hardly ever see him, the only thing we ever discuss is work...and that as briefly as possible as a rule. He’s not a chatty man.’

  ‘Seriously? Nothing personal? Ever?’ She still couldn’t get her head around that.

  Liz was silent for a moment. ‘When I returned from my holiday he asked me if I had a nice time. I said yes. That was the extent of the discussion.’

  The holiday where Liz had become pregnant to her hot mystery man?

  ‘No passing comments about politics and the state of the nation, or a book you’ve been reading, or a movie you’ve seen?’ she persisted.

  ‘No! We have a weekly phone call—the Tyrell Foundation is his baby and it’s obviously close to his heart—but that’s it. He’s busy doing whatever it is lords running their estates are busy doing. It’s the reason I was so convinced we could pull this switch off.’

  They’d thought it so unlikely that Liv would even need to speak to him that they’d practically considered it a fait accompli. But now... She swallowed and nodded. She could do it. She could pull it off. After all, she’d had no trouble convincing Judith that she was Liz.

  Still...deceiving the sixty-two-year-old Judith who did a solid job at maintaining the foundation’s database but who was more interested in sneaking in a surreptitious game of Solitaire than gossiping with Liv was one thing. Deceiving a businessman in his prime was a different matter altogether.

  ‘Livvy?’

  ‘This new development might mean me and your Mr Tyrell have to come face-to-face.’

  ‘Will you be OK with that?’

  She could practically see the grimace on her twin’s face. ‘Yes.’ She gave a silent scream and then stuck out her chin. ‘But I’m not changing my hair.’

  Finally Liz laughed. ‘We already agreed I’d have to lop a few inches off mine before I came home. And in the unlikely event he even sees it, let alone mentions it, I’ll tell him I’ve gone back to being blonde.’

  For a moment she could almost picture her twin waving an unconcerned hand through the air, treating the issue of hair as a matter of little importance. Liv couldn’t help smiling. She loved her hair. ‘Right. We’ll call that Plan A, then.’

  ‘What are you going to do now, though? About the baby?’

  She suspected what she should do was call the police, but...

  ‘Please don’t lose me my job, Livvy.’

  But there was that—it was what she was here for. Everything else in Liz’s life was up in the air and she was clinging to the security of her job like a lifeline. Liv couldn’t jeopardise that.

  And if Mr Tyrell did happen to be the father of this baby...well, it wouldn’t be fair to call the authorities until after she’d spoken with him.

  ‘I’m going to ring your—my—boss and ask him what he wants to do about the situation. I’ll do my best to sound cool and efficient—’ like her twin ‘—but if I sound a tiny bit flustered I think, given the circumstances, that’ll be understandable.’

  ‘Oh, Liv, are you sure you don’t want me to come home? I can do my best to get back asap. Given this rotten plane strike, if Mr Tyrell is out of the country it could take him days to get home too. And in the meantime you could be literally left holding the baby on your own.’

  ‘Which sounds like more fun than doing government grant acquittals. There’s not been a peep from the little tyke. And before you ask—yes, she’s breathing. I checked. Besides, I love babies—you know that. And thankfully they’re not actually all that much trouble at this age.

  ‘Except for the four-hourly feeds and the sleep deprivation.’ Liv glanced down at the baby and grinned. ‘Not much sleep deprivation happening here. Besides, Mr Tyrell is bound to know who Baby Jemima is and what I should do with her. We’ll sort it out.’

  ‘I’m so, so sorry, Liv. If I’d thought for a moment that anything like this would happen, I’d have never asked you to fill in for me.’

  ‘I know. But don’t fear—I’ll muddle on through. You just focus on sorting things out at your end. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.’

  Liv hung up from her twin and tucked her phone back into her handbag. She stared again at the sleeping baby and bit her lip. It was usual for babies to sleep a lot, right? She touched her fingers to the baby’s forehead, but the baby didn’t feel hot or feverish.

  What on earth was the poor little mite going to think when she woke up and found her mother gone? ‘Poor little chick.’

  Right.

  She planted herself in her office chair and pulled the phone towards her, punching in the contact number that Sebastian Tyrell had left...along with the instruction Only to be used in the direst of emergencies.

  The phone rang three times before it was answered. ‘Ms Gilmour.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I trust this is an emergency?’

  The cold, clipped tones told her it had better be or there’d be hell to pay. She took an immediate dislike to the man. ‘Yes, I’m afraid it is.’

  ‘My parents...?’

  His tone didn’t change and she disliked him even more. ‘To the best of my knowledge they’re in excellent health. This has nothing to do with your parents. It’s to do with—’

  Baby Jemima chose that moment to let loose with a loud wail.

  Heavens! Who knew something so small could produce a sound so fierce? She stood up to peer into the carrier—still perched on her desk where it’d been left—but the sight of Liv seemed to startle the baby further. Baby Jemima’s face turned red as she started crying in earnest.

  Oh, heck!

  Sebastian Tyrell’s voice boomed down the line at her. ‘Is there a baby in my office?’

  Technically, it was her office.

  Actually, it was Liz’s office.

  ‘Hey, there, little one, hush.’ She ran her hand across the baby blanket—over the baby’s tummy—in an effort to impart some comfort. ‘Shh, it’s OK.’ She spied the dummy pinned to the blanket and popped it int
o the baby’s mouth. Baby Jemima immediately stopped crying and sucked on it greedily. Oh! She must be hungry.

  ‘What is a baby doing in my office?’

  She hated that voice—the cutting ice of it. ‘That, Se—sir...’ She quickly caught herself. Liz had told her that first names weren’t used in the office. Ever.

  She closed her eyes and pulled in a breath. She had to keep her wits about her. Slip-ups were not allowed. She couldn’t let Liz down. It was Sebastian Tyrell’s reserve, his distance—both physical and emotional—that had made them believe they could pull this deception off. They could still pull it off. She and Liz were identical twins—at least on the outside. He’d never be able to tell them apart. She could do this.

  ‘Continue, Ms Gilmour. Stopping partway through a sentence is not only unprofessional, but irritating.’

  Her chin shot up and her nostrils flared. ‘I was hoping you could shed light on this particular emergency, sir. You see, the baby is the emergency. It was left on my desk during my lunch hour...along with a letter for you.’

  ‘What?’

  She held the phone a little further away from her ear and refrained from pointing out that deafening one’s office manager wasn’t particularly professional either. Or that having her eardrums blasted was seriously irritating.

  ‘You’ll have to excuse me for having read your letter, but I deemed the situation warranted it.’ She feared, though, that her tone told him she didn’t give a flying fig what he thought about her having read his letter.

  Air hissed down the line at her. ‘Read it out loud.’

  She did. Word for word. As few as they were.

  Without being asked, she read the letter again, allowing him time to process it. She waited for him to respond. When he continued to remain silent she asked, ‘What would you like me to do?’

  ‘I’m thinking.’

  She wanted to tell him to think faster. ‘Do you know baby Jemima?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you know who her mother might be?’