Pursued by the Rogue (The Fairy Tales of New York Book 1) (13 page)

He was never not going to be helpless against grey-eyed women with eyes that saw straight through to the heart of things. “I won’t.”

Dawn’s aunt returned and he took the piece of paper she handed to him with a gruff, “Thank you.”

“You should leave now if you want to catch her at the doctor’s office. If you miss her, we’ll tell her you called.”

“Thank you,” he said again.

It was way past time to leave.

It wasn’t until he was back outside the apartment block that he stopped memorizing the address long enough to turn the paper over.

In small, neat handwriting Dawn’s aunt had written:
We like you already, Mr. Finbar Sullivan, otherwise you wouldn’t have got through the door. My niece cares deeply for you. Good luck.

*

Dawn sat in
the waiting room at the clinic on the grounds of Columbia University and tried not to stare at the clock. Over the past week she’d answered surveys and had a physical examination, gone through her family medical history and taken more than one psych test. She hadn’t had any brain imaging tests yet but that was only because they’d skipped straight to predictive genetic testing.

There were perks to being the head of a leading research company focused on genetic testing. Aaron – Doctor Aaron Chen – had waived a lot of the pre-counseling given that Dawn was already well-versed when it came to ethical, economic and emotional intricacies surrounding such testing. He’d fast tracked the DNA test.

She took a deep breath and stopped watching the clock in favor of counting how many tulips were in the fishbowl vase on the receptionist’s desk instead.

Twenty.

She drummed her fingers on her leg, caught the receptionist’s sympathetic smile and smacked one hand down over her wayward fingers to make them stop.

Her mother had wanted to come to the appointment but Dawn had refused. She was hanging onto her control by the merest of threads and if the news was bad she would need time to collect herself. A counselling session had been pre-booked. She would move from one specialist’s room to the next.

Fifty-fifty, Dawn. Breathe.

The door to the clinic opened and a man walked in, bringing with him an air of controlled energy that had every head in the room swiveling towards him.

Finn.

He sat down beside her and slid her a glance. Hard to believe that green eyes could burn so hot, but they did.

He was everything she’d ever wanted, and didn’t think she could afford to have.

“Why are you here?” she asked quietly, well aware of the others in the room and the almost invariable listening in.

“Same reason you’re here. To see what our future holds.”

“
My
future, not yours,” she corrected. “Walk away, Finn. You’re not part of my world.”

“Do you realize,” he said almost conversationally. “That you’re doing to me almost exactly what your mother did to you?”

The receptionist looked up, eyes narrowed. And then she glanced back and forth between him and Dawn and softened, just a little bit as she stood and came out from behind the desk.

“I can offer you Doctor Grant’s room if you need somewhere to talk.” She nodded firmly, her gaze fixed on Dawn. “Ms. Turner? A little privacy for your conversation?”

Guess she’d navigated these kinds of situations before.

Reluctantly, Dawn stood. “Thank you.”

Dawn followed the receptionist to a nearby door and Finn followed Dawn.

“I’ll come and get you when the doctor is ready to see you,” she murmured, and shut the door behind her.

He wouldn’t have caused a scene, but he was nonetheless grateful for the use of the room, even if Dawn perched her delectable butt on the edge of the desk and refused to look at him. Instead she stared out the window, at the carpet, at the clock on the wall. Anywhere but at him.

But she was giving him a hearing, and he was determined to make the most of it.

He took a deep breath and began to speak.

“I care for you, Dawn. Very much. And you care for me. If you have this disease you’ve got what … ten years before symptoms appear?”

“Maybe less,” she said faintly.

“Spend them with me. We’ll do your bucket list and mine. Live life to its fullest. Loving. Exploring. Experiencing everything. You and me.”

He almost made sense. Dawn sat on her hands to stop them reaching for him and tried to be the sensible one here. The one who knew what they were in for if she had this disease. “And then what?” she said. “You walk away unscathed? You’ll have spent the best years of your life on me. No kids. No growing old alongside a healthy, functional partner.”

“No one can promise that anyway.” Finally, she saw the crack in him. It was there in his eyes, full acknowledgement of the burden her illness would bring. “Cost to bear.”

“Walk away.” She couldn’t bear it if he stayed and she had the disease.

“I hear your chance of having it is fifty-fifty. I’ll take those odds. I’ll take you in sickness and in health.”

“No. If I’m in sickness I
will
not have you.”

He squared his shoulders. “What’s on your bucket list? The Northern Lights are on mine. Then the ice sculpture festival in northern China. Dog sledding in the Arctic –that one’s been there since I was a kid. I want to take my father to Ireland and go on a whisky trail and roll him home. I want to learn bagpipes in Edinburgh. Your presence at that one’s optional given the nature of bagpipes. You’re welcome.”

“You’re crazy.”

“I want to take you to the Musikverein in Vienna. It’s a concert hall, a very beautiful one, and when you play in it, the sound swoops and soars and fills every bit of it. I can see us there. This year or next.” His voice cracked. “Come with me, Dawn.”

She bit her lip and took to staring at the clock again rather than at the man sitting next to her weaving a future out of hope and feathers.

“They’ve asked me to write a concerto in three parts for violin,” he continued undeterred. “First movement’s about love. You’ve heard the second. Think I’m going to call the third one hope. You haven’t seen me when I’m composing yet.
Apparently
I can be difficult. Faith brought me a plastic tiara once, flashing lights and everything. I was in the middle of scoring a film and she had some creative suggestions as to where I could put it. According to her they don’t always have to go on your head.”

“Your family,” she murmured with a shake of her head.

“Is my strength. I’ve got this, Dawn. You think I don’t know love and loss? I do. I know the cost. The rest of my family knows it too and they’ll be there for us. You don’t have to do this alone. Let me walk with you, Dawn. No matter what.”

He held out his hand for her to take. It was a strong hand. Square palm, long fingers and neat nails.

“I love you,” he said.

The clincher.

She took his hand as the clock on the wall signaled the hour. “There’s a fifty-fifty chance I love you too.”

“Have you ever danced at the edge of the ocean in the moonlight?”

“No.”

“Would you like to?”

A memory flashed unbidden. “I know this place in Australia. This little tucked away beach below a lighthouse.”

He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back.

“I had to come,” he said.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

And then a knock on the door sounded and Dawn said, “Come in.”

The clinic receptionist opened the door. “Ms. Turner? Doctor will see you now.”

“Want me to come in?” asked Finn.

“No, I—I want—” If the news was not good she was going to need a moment to break and remake herself with no one looking on. If she broke—

The look in his eyes told her that she wouldn’t be the only one.

Was she really going to do this? Walk through life at this man’s side, holding nothing back, no matter what? “Yes. Please. Come with me.”

It was kinda sweet, how quickly he dragged her towards the door. “Do you still have the tiara?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“I bet I can out princess you. Wait ’til you see me breaking down genetic code.”

“You’re on.”

“The only thing that can tempt me away from my work when I get obsessed is cheesecake.”

“Noted.”

“And blindingly good sex.”

She glanced his way and found him … smug.

With good reason.

Aaron’s office was at the end of a bland white corridor and the door stood open. She stepped inside the room and Finn followed. Aaron looked from her to Finn and summoned a professional smile as he stood up and came around to lean against the edge of his desk. “Dawn. And…?”

“Finn, this is Doctor Aaron Chen colleague, friend and, as of a couple of weeks ago, my physician. Aaron, this is Finbar Sullivan, my, ah …”

“Beloved,” Finn said firmly.

“You didn’t have one of those on your forms,” Aaron said dryly.

“He’s a new addition – as of your waiting room.”

“Violinist, right?” Aaron held out his hand.

“That too.” Finn shook it.

“Well, I hope you can keep up with her.” Aaron turned and picked up a thumb drive from his desk and handed it to her “I know you’ll want to look at the results yourself.” His smile turned into a grin that stretched from ear to ear. “Don’t drop it. Apparently you’re naturally clumsy and forgetful. The results are negative.”

Time stopped. She couldn’t breathe. Colors dimmed and space contracted until there was only one thing in it.

Finn.

Looking as poleaxed and unable to process events as she was.

He looked like he needed a hug.

“Oh, sweet Jesus,
yes
!” he said as he arms closed around her and he buried his face in her neck. “Where’s that beach?”

“So, about counseling,” Aaron said. “Finn, you’ll need some too.”

“Don’t need counseling. I just need a moment.”

“Share the joy, my friend.” Aaron was clearly enjoying himself. “You hear the verdict, you get the counseling.”

“Do I have to like him?” Finn murmured. “Will he be coming to dinner?”

“Probably.”

“I’ll do the counseling.”

“Good man, princess,” Dawn whispered against his chest.

“I wish I’d never told you that.”

“I was impressed.” Dawn couldn’t keep her smile down. The cocoon that was just her and Finn widened. “I need to ring my mother.”

“And your friends.”

“You do Faith. I’ll do the rest.”

“And I would love to do dinner,” said Aaron. “Get out of here. Nice to meet you, Finn. May I call you Finn?”

“Yes.” He and Finn shook hands again. Dawn hugged Aaron; she could talk about her blurring of boundaries in counselling, she figured. And then she hightailed it out of that sterile interior space and into the open, with the sun on her face and blue sky over head.

On the steps of the building she stopped and took a deep breath. “I don’t even know what to do next. I don’t know this world. All I know for sure is that you’re here with me and the possibilities are so beautiful.”

“Are you crying?”

“No,” she lied, and flung her arms around him and buried her face in his neck to hide the fact. “I love you. I love you and I’m holding you to every word you said in there.”

“You’re on,” he rumbled gruffly, and she could feel the reverberations of his chest against hers and the rapid beating of his heart. “And there’s somewhere I’d like to take you right now, a place we can go to celebrate the good news. Your family and friends. Mine too. They all need to be there.”

“Where?”

“Sully’s.”

‡

A
n hour and
a half later, Finbar pushed open the door to the pub he’d called home and ushered Dawn inside. The warmth of the place greeted him instantly, the familiar scents and sounds of his youth bathing him in the comfort of old memories. For a man who professed to have a love-hate relationship with the place, he’d sure as hell headed straight for it when the time came to celebrate good news.

The pub wasn’t busy at this time of the afternoon. A few regulars graced various tables and booths, but the lunch crowd had gone and the evening crowd had yet to arrive. Three hours, maybe a little more, since he’d last been here but the difference between how he’d felt then and how he felt now was amazing.