Seduced by the Baron (The Fairy Tales of New York Book 4) (27 page)

Heartbreak and regret. Longing and insecurity.

Need.

Oh, the need to simply reach out and touch him was still there in spades as Finn focused on her lips for a fraction longer than was polite. And then he blinked, and ruefully shook his head as his gaze reconnected with hers.

She wondered what he saw. If he still thought her pretty or whether the years had put paid to that crazy notion altogether.

In the end it was Dawn who dragged her gaze away from his in order to greet a smiling Faith. In the end it was Faith with her wild brown curls, who threw her arms around Dawn and held on tight.

“Hey, you,” murmured Faith. “It’s been a long time.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Busy years.”

She pulled back awkwardly and let Faith study her.

“So sleek and classy,” Faith said at last.

“It’s the clothes.”

“It’s your confidence.”

If only.

And then Faith let her go and the next person in line to greet her was Finn, leaning casually against the bar as if it belonged to him and, oh.

Well.

There was a scent she remembered.

Up close she could see the details she’d missed earlier. All those long lines and lean muscles, the five o’clock shadow and the smile that spoke of confidence aplenty and a fine appreciation for others. He’d always had that smile. Even back then.

“Hello, Finn.”

“You remember me.”

“Seriously?” she offered dryly. “How many famous concert violinists do you think I know?”

Mercy caught her eye and mouthed ‘rockstar,’ and it was so ridiculously playful and innocent that Dawn laughed and tried for her own sake to push her inner insecurities aside. “Yes, Finn. I remember you.”

Faith groaned. “Don’t encourage him, Dawn. His ego’s big enough already.”

“Don’t listen to her, Dawn.” Finn’s voice carried a hint of Irish in it. “Encourage me more.”

This
was what she’d suffered for all those years ago. A warm and easy welcome from a lover who knew nothing of the heartbreak that had followed their one night together. This laughing reunion. This meeting of adults who’d made their own way, secure in their choices and decisions.

She’d earned this.

“You’re making beautiful music these days,” she told him. “I even went to one of your concerts once, years ago when you played at the Lincoln Center.”

“Did you like it?”

“It was magic,” she told him with simple sincerity. He’d cut an impossibly romantic figure against the glitteringly formal backdrop of the orchestra. He’d been dressed all in black and had been so far beyond her reach that he hadn’t seemed like a real person at all, but his music had been real enough to wrap around her like a lover and drench her in beauty. “And that’s about all the flattery I have for you.”

“Pretty sure we can help her come up with more,” murmured Zel.

“Goodbye, Finn. Moving on,” Faith warned and ushered her old school friends towards a faraway booth. Dawn couldn’t help but take one last look as she walked away, still hungry to catalogue the changes the years had provoked. New memories to replace the old.

Better ones.

He was looking down at his hands, shadows playing merry with his eyelashes and the planes of his face. As for those fingers, they were long and strong with immaculately kept nails. A musician’s hands; made for wringing every last drop of emotion from an instrument. Or a lover.

Dawn stumbled over the leg of a chair and quickly looked away.

That was probably enough new memories for now.

“What are we drinking?” she asked as Faith stopped by the bar and waved them towards the last booth in a long row of booths set neatly against the wall.

“I have a plan,” said Faith. “It involves Guinness for you. That okay?”

Dawn nodded and followed the other two women to the window booth with the ruby red seats and battle-scarred wooden tabletop. There was safety in being squeezed in between Mercy and the wall, with Zel sitting opposite.

Safety in not looking towards Finn at all.

Grasping for anything that involved the here and now, Dawn turned her attention to the drinks Faith set down in front of them. Guinness for her, Faith and Mercy. Something icy and minty for Zel. “What’s that?”

“A virgin Mojito. I’m trialing a couple of cocktails for the bar, with and without the alcohol. Zel’s my jetsetting guinea pig who’s graced the fancy bars of the world. She’s going to tell me if this one’s any good.”

“I feel so loved,” said Zel, with a wicked grin.

“Next round is mine,” said Mercy. “I’m a one Guinness woman and then I’m switching to orange juice.” She glanced at Faith’s and Dawn’s full pints’ and then back down at her half pint. “Seriously, how do you drink that much beer?”

“Practice,” said Faith and Dawn nodded sagely and reached for hers.

“I’m mostly in it for the froth.”

“Head,” corrected Faith. “And next time – if Pop’s not looking – I’ll make yours bigger.”

“Only if your pop’s not looking?” Mercy teased.

Faith nodded, her bright blue gaze encompassing Dawn and Mercy both. “There are rules concerning how much head to put on a glass of Guinness. Commandments, some might call them. Not to be messed with. I value my own head also.”

Dawn laughed, and then not two seconds later lost her grip on the glass and narrowly missed spilling the lot. As it was, a good quarter of it ended up on the table. “Good job, genius,” she muttered, reaching for napkins to mop up the spillage. “Sorry. I’m nervous. Also a klutz.”

“What’s to be nervous about?” Mercy reached over and squeezed her fingers as Faith called for a cloth from the barman.

“Oh, you know.” Vague was good, Dawn decided. Vague and klutzy went well together.

“
I
know,” murmured Faith, as she leaned over and cleaned up Dawn’s mess. “Impressing old friends is hard. Try being the barmaid in this equation.”

“As if that’s all you do here,” Mercy said. “Just like all Zel does is stand in front of a camera and look beautiful. Just like all I do is pick grapes back in Argentina.”

“Dawn runs her own genetic research company,” Faith pointed out.

“Yeah, but she’s a klutz.” Zel came on board the conversation with a lazy wave of her hand. “I vote we keep her anyway.”

“Exactly.” Mercy grinned. “The beauty of old friends is that don’t
have
to impress them.”

Just like that the years fell away and Dawn sat back and relaxed into the warmth these three other women provided. Reunions didn’t have to be a stilted show-and-tell full of awkward silence. Maybe they could just sit here and get to know each other all over again.

Maybe she could dream of Finn now and know that things had worked out for the best.

“Is he still watching you?” Faith asked.

“Who?”

“Finn.”

“No,” she said, and it was true, for his attention had shifted to a dark-haired boy of around four years old who was running towards him with no signs of stopping. A slender, dark-haired woman followed at a more leisurely pace. Finn crouched down and hugged the kid, picking him up so that they were shoulder to shoulder and head to head.

Finn had a son?

Finn spared a kiss for the woman.

Finn had a wife?

That was …

So …

Expected.

Perfectly normal. And that pang of bitter envy in the vicinity of her heart?

Indigestion.

No children for Dawn and no regrets.

Honest.

“What are you looking at?” asked Zel.

“Finn’s son.”

Zel turned, so did Faith. Mercy was already facing that way.

“Godson,” Faith corrected. “That’s Gil. A friend of Finn’s died young and his wife, Emmeline, gave birth two months later. Finn had already agreed to be godparent. One thing I will say about my brother is that he took that promise seriously. He doesn’t always nail the religious aspects of the job but the male influence and the music … he’s all over that.”

“That’s so sweet,” said Mercy.

“Yes.” Dawn picked up her Guinness and drank.

Her gaze met Finn’s again and held.

Yes, it was.

Find out what happens next in Pursued by the Rogue

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The Fairy Tales of New York Series

Book 1:
Pursued by the Rogue
by Kelly Hunter

Buy now!

Book 2:
Tempting the Knight
by Heidi Rice

Buy now!

Book 3:
Taming the Beast by Lucy King

Buy now!

Book 4:
Seduced by the Baron
by Amy Andrews

Multi-award winning and USA Today bestselling author
Amy Andrews
is an Aussie who has written fifty romances from novellas to category to single-title in both the traditional and digital markets for a variety of publishers. Her first love is steamy contemporary romance that makes her readers tingle, laugh and sigh. At the age of 16, she met a guy she instantly knew she was going to marry. She just smiles when people tell her insta-love books are unrealistic because she did marry that man and, twenty odd years later, they’re still living out their happily ever after. Amy works part-time as a PICU nurse and spent six years on the national executive of Romance Writers of Australia where she organized two national conferences and undertook a two year term as president. She loves good books, fab food, great wine and frequent travel – preferably all four together. She lives on acreage on the outskirts of Brisbane with a gorgeous mountain view but secretly wishes it was the hillsides of Tuscany.

More from Amy:

Visit her website at
AmyAndrews.com.au

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