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

      “Sit. Let me look at you.” Mama sank onto the couch and he followed. She smoothed a lock of hair from his forehead. “Staying long?”

      “Yeah.” He knew what she was really asking. “I’m home for good.”

      That put weight on his shoulders. He’d thought he was ready. He was ready. But it was so permanent. And so Evangeline-free.

      Her sharp gaze swept him, twice, with a combination of disbelief and hope. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

      The harsh laugh scraped at his throat. “Not really. But I figured out it’s because I didn’t actually know what I was looking for. I don’t do well without a plan.”

      “You never have. So what’s your plan now?”

      “I’m going back to WFP. Lucas has managed to get himself into a hole, and I’m going to get him out.” First time in a long time he had a sense of purpose. A goal. It felt good. Right.

      Mama shot him a puzzled glance. “A hole? Did he tell you that?”

      “I know about Richards Group. It’s partly the reason I came home.” The other part had everything to do with a singular desire to be dependable, straight-arrow Matthew Wheeler again. To do something he excelled at and had ultimate control over.

      “I think you should talk to him. We’ll have a big family dinner to celebrate you being home. Call your brother. Tell him to come early so you can get on the same page.” She smiled. “Far be it from me to get in the middle of my boys, but honey, you left. Lucas has been handling things. I doubt he’s going to take kindly to you sticking your nose into WFP and bossing him around. A word to the wise.”

      Matthew checked the eye-roll out of sheer respect for the woman who had birthed him. But it was hard.

      “I’m not going to boss him around, Mama. I’m here to help.”

      She nodded. “Just you remember that. You’re helping. Not in charge.”

      The transatlantic flight caught up to him then, and he cracked his jaw with a yawn. “I’m going to take a shower and maybe watch TV for a couple of mindless hours.” Decompress. Be alone without his mother’s shrewd gaze on him. He pulled her into a long hug. “Thanks. For letting me come home.”

      “Silly.” She thumped his shoulder, her eyes shiny and full. “You’re still my kid, no matter how big you get. I love you. You’re always welcome here.”

      He almost spilled everything then, all the heartache of the past eighteen months, the depression, the disorientation. How he’d experienced it again tenfold on the flight home at the hands of a different woman. But the wounds of Evangeline were far too fresh and the wounds of Amber far too...faded.

      He frowned. When had that happened?

      “See you at dinner.”

      Dropping a kiss on his mother’s cheek, he went upstairs to clear his mind with a hot shower, which didn’t work.

      When he’d last been in Dallas, the burden of grief had turned the sunniest of days dark. Amber was constantly on his mind, how he couldn’t go on without her. How everything they’d planned was dashed. He’d expected coming home to bring all that back. It hadn’t.

      When he thought about Amber now, it was with a hazy sort of warm rush. The prongs of grief had lifted.

      The skin he washed was the same. But the man inside wasn’t. That’s why the neighborhood and his mother’s house had been unrecognizable. Despite all his yearning to slip back in time, to a place where he knew everything was safe and right, he couldn’t. The only thing he could do was accept that he had changed.

      Like Evangeline had said.

      But if he accepted that his life was something different now, who would he be?

      He called Lucas and then flipped on the TV to lose himself in the oblivion of sleep.

      The door crashed against the wall, waking him. Groggily, he sat up and swung his legs off the edge of the bed. The empty bed.

      He wasn’t in Venice with Evangeline. He was in Dallas. Alone.

      A fuzzy Lucas lounged against the door frame, hand in his pants’ pocket and a smirk on his face.

      “God Almighty, you look like roadkill in August.” Lucas tsked.

      “Thanks. That’s exactly what I needed to hear. I was sleeping, by the way,” Matthew groused and rubbed a hand across his eyes. His brother’s form snapped into focus. “Though I appreciate that you were so eager to see me you couldn’t wait.”

      Lucas snorted out a laugh. “I just didn’t believe you were actually here. Had to see it for myself. You back?”

      “Looks that way.”

      “All the way back?”

      “Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’m here, aren’t I?”

      Lucas sat on the edge of the bed a couple feet away, dipping the mattress. “You were in bad shape. I’m concerned. Sue me.”

      Well, I am a sanctimonious lawyer.

      Matthew’s head dropped into his hands. It wasn’t just jet lag crushing him. Evangeline—knowing he’d hurt her, being without her—weighed more than he could bear.

      “Honestly, I don’t know if ‘all the way back’ is possible.”

      “Amber’s death nearly destroyed you. Don’t let it finish the job,” Lucas advised quietly. “You took some time away. Now rejoin life. I’m working on trouncing Richards Group. Another Wheeler on the job can’t hurt.”

      Matthew nearly laughed. “If only Amber were the problem, I’d be all set. Unfortunately, I traded one impossible-to-solve issue for another.”

      Lucas nodded sagely. “This has to do with the very sexy lady you met. What happened?”

      Matthew met his brother’s sharp gaze. “How do you know about that?”

      “Everyone knows about that. You photograph well, as it happens. So she figured out she’s too good for you, huh? Am I going to be nursing you through a broken heart?”

      Matthew growled. “Shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

      “Oh, poor baby. Did she make you cry?” Lucas thumped him on the arm, and Matthew shot him a glare.

      “Back off. She’s pregnant.”

      He hadn’t meant to say anything. But it came out nonetheless, too huge to stay under wraps.

      “Then what are you doing here without her?” His brother’s eyes narrowed. “Oh. It’s not yours.”

      Matthew’s fist curled, and he almost let it fly, but curbed the impulse at the last second. Where had that anger come from? He wasn’t in Venice, free to do whatever he wanted, when he wanted to.

      “Of course it’s mine. And God, it’s a mess.”

      Lucas started laughing and didn’t stop even when Matthew shoved him. Finally, Lucas wiped his eyes. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

      “What’s that supposed to mean?” His brother’s face might actually be improved with a good slug to the jaw.

      Still sniggering, Lucas crossed his arms. “May I remind you of what you said to me about Cia? I believe you accused me of getting a one-night stand pregnant and self-righteously informed me that accidents happen.”

      His stomach twisted as he vaguely recalled saying something asinine to that effect. “Is it too late to apologize?”

      “Nah.” Lucas grinned. “No apology needed. It’s nice to know you’re human like the rest of us. Where is she now? Did you have a fight or something?”

      “Worse.