The Baron (11 page)

She looked at him questioningly and smiled. “And the food?”

“Waiting in my chariot.” Before she could dig up any other questions or protests, Nick ushered her quickly out the door.

Halley hardly remembered the ride out of town, only that the windows were down and the fresh, sweet-smelling air of the countryside swirled around
them. The silence was easy and comfortable, and she finally let go and allowed herself to sink into the delicious pleasure of having Nick Harrington there beside her. Alone.

“Here we are.” Nick pulled off a one-lane road a short while later and parked the car in a small graveled parking area. “Ever been here?”

Halley looked around at the rolling hills and patches of thick woods that dotted the slopes. The trees were a flaming patchwork of color that took her breath away, and through the branches, off to the right, she could see the sparkling waters of a small lake. “No, I haven’t, Nick. It’s lovely!” She stepped out of the car and breathed in the pungent smells of earth and water and crisp autumn leaves.

“We used to ride horses around here as kids,” Nick said as he opened the trunk and lifted out a woven picnic hamper. “Then they turned it into a park, but they have kept it fairly untouched. No hot-dog stands or boat houses.”

Halley smiled and shoved her hands into the wide pockets of her skirt. She could picture Nick astride a fine, muscular steed, riding off across the hills, his black hair dramatic against the blue sky beyond.

Nick held the basket in one hand, tucked a plaid blanket beneath his arm, and led Halley over to a quiet green spot beneath a group of tall pine trees. It was utterly quiet except for the gentle lap of water along the shore in the distance and the slight breeze whistling through the treetops.

“This is perfect, Nick. A perfect spot, perfect planning. But what would you have done if it had rained?” She smiled up at him.

“When you plan something twelve hours ahead, you diminish your chances for error.”

“I see. Then if something occurs without any planning at all …?” Like himself, she thought, and the way he had fallen so unexpectedly into her life. Plop!
He’d landed right there in a world that made him oddly uncomfortable, and yet he kept coming back for more. What were the chances for error there?

“That remains to be seen.” He smiled down at her, and she couldn’t see behind the smile, nor tell if he had read her mind. “Hungry?”

“Starving.”

He set the hamper down and spread the blanket beneath a tree. “
Voilá
,” he said. “Now sit down and relax, my love. This is my show, and I want you to enjoy it completely.”

With a sweeping gesture he lifted the hinged top of the hamper and pulled out a small silver bucket, two crystal wineglasses, and two gold-edged china plates.

“A picnic?” Halley stared in wonder at the items, then burst into delighted laughter. “Nick, this isn’t a picnic, this is a carryout from L’Auberge!”

“I have to admit my expertise in the area of picnics leaves a little bit to be desired, but I think this should work okay.” He shrugged boyishly, and Halley found herself touched by the uncharacteristic gesture. For a brief moment it wasn’t the self-assured, suave Nick Harrington standing before her but a man who seemed strangely vulnerable.

He uncorked a bottle of Bordeaux and poured it, then handed a glass to Halley. “To picnics,” he said, holding out his glass.

“To picnics,” she answered. She sipped the wine, basking in enjoyment as Nick served. It was all so lovely, from the linen napkins, to the plates heaped with cold crab salad, to the hunks of crisp French bread and chilled fruit.

Nick set a silver knife and a fork on a filled plate and handed it to her, then took his own and stretched his legs out in front of him.

He leaned back against the thick, rough bark of the tree, letting the Indian-summer sun warm his
face. He looked so relaxed here, away from everyone, Halley thought. So free and comfortable.

“You were right, Nick.”

“Oh?”

“About coming here. It’s wonderful. We do know each other as lots of different people, barons and contessas and librarians. Some are real, some aren’t. And it’s nice to get away from all that.”

His hand covered her knee. “Agreed.”

Halley brushed her hair behind her ear and looked at Nick intently. As much as she enjoyed being with him, she realized how little she really knew about him. She knew only the surface kinds of things, really, that and what her emotions told her.

His fingers curled around her leg and squeezed her playfully. “What do you think, my love?”

Halley was swept away by the tantalizing feeling and looked at him unflinchingly. “I think you’ve discovered a lot about me these past days.”

Nick continued to rub her skin gently. “That, Halley Finnegan, is an understatement. Besides the more delicious things, such as the incredibly sensuous way you kiss, I’ve learned—”

“Seriously, Nick. You know me pretty much for what I am. Halley Finnegan, librarian. Large, openly affectionate family. Plain, ordinary childhood. Stubborn streak. Messy apartment. Crazy friends. I still know you as the Baron. Is that who you want me to know?”

He shrugged and continued to eat his salad.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” He looked at her, his deep eyes filled with teasing innocence.

“Nick! Sometimes you’re exasperating.” She wrapped her arms around her bent legs and rested her chin on her knees. “I want to know more about Nick Harrington. What kind of a kid you were. What mischief you got into. What kind of cookies your mother
baked for you when you were nine. That sort of thing. You know, whether you ever skipped school—”

“Did you?”

“What?”

“Skip school.”

She laughed, her gaze skimming the tops of the trees in the distance as she remembered. “Only once. All the students and teachers went to daily Mass before classes began, and one day Rosie and I were coming back from Holy Communion and we had the sudden urge to keep going, right out the back of church and down the street. We went to Pop’s garage, and he took us out to lunch. Mom stayed mad at him for three days, a record for her.” Halley took a bite of bread, then paused. “Damn you, Nick!”

He leaned his head to one side. “Halley, such an outburst! And from a librarian?”

“You’ve done it again.” She narrowed her eyes and punched him lightly on the shoulder.

“Done what?”

“You switched things around on me. Now stop it! Listen to what I’m saying, Nick.” Her voice sounded stern, but he found her smile enticing. “Tell me, did your mother ever get mad at your dad like mine did when I skipped school? Did you like college? What is your favorite book? Who was the most important person in your life while you were growing up?” She paused, then added teasingly, “And have you always hung around libraries for kicks?”

Nick slipped off her glasses and gently pressed one finger against her lips. “Shh. I once read that people who wear glasses don’t talk as much if you remove them.”

“Hah! An old wives’ tale, if I ever heard one!”

There were sparks of irritation and amusement mixing together and lighting her eyes with starlike flecks of gold. Nick thought it was as lovely as any
constellation he’d ever seen. “I see there is a touch of Irish temper beneath those gentle curves.”

“Back to the subject—”

Nick considered her carefully. There were many things he already liked about Halley Finnegan. This was a new one that he hadn’t considered before. She
did
want to know those things about him. She didn’t care about his banks or his money or his
Mayflower
ancestors. She wanted to know who
he
was. It made him uncomfortable and touched his heart at the same time. But when he rubbed a finger along her cheek and began to answer, he was smiling.

“Okay, I give up. Yes, I skipped school. Lots of times. In all four of the boarding schools I went to. No, my dad never took me to lunch when I did it. I don’t know if my parents argued; I never heard them if they did. One of my nannies baked me cookies; I don’t remember what kind. Her name was Jessie, and she stayed with us the longest—nearly two years, I think.”

“Nanny?” Halley asked softly.

Nick laughed at her expression. “Don’t look so distraught. Some people are raised by mothers, some by nannies.”

“Were they … nice?”

“Nice enough. Some more so than others. Ironsides was a bit of a burden, but she didn’t last long.”

Halley managed a smile at the triumphant look on his face, and she imagined a young Nick Harrington besting the nanny-dragon and sending her on her way.

“And your parents?”

“My parents were nice people, I think. I often wish I could have gotten to know them better. They raised me the best way they knew how, which was the way they were raised—sort of by remote control.”

Halley’s face had turned so utterly sad that Nick
inched over and put an arm around her for comfort. “It’s all right, Halley. Really it is.”

Halley looked up into his eyes and wanted to hug him—for several years, maybe—to fill in the hollows she was sure were there beneath that polished, strong front. “My family, Halley, was nothing like yours, but that doesn’t make it good or bad. My folks both died when I was in college,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“That’s why you’re so close to Sylvia and Herb.”

He nodded. “They assumed responsibility, although I was already an adult and didn’t really need their help. I’m very fond of them.” He drew Halley closer and whispered into the mass of silky hair pressing against his cheek. “And I’m very fond of you too.”

“My family must overwhelm you,” she said around the growing lump in her throat.

Nick leaned back again and sipped his wine. “I guess they do a little, at that. It’s that informal, relaxed kind of loving they do that amazes me. Perhaps I don’t understand it.”

“What’s to understand, Nick? Love is love. That’s simply our way of showing it.”

It
was
just that simple for her, Nick could see, but sometimes it wasn’t really simple for him at all. He wasn’t at all sure how to explain that to Halley, so he kept silent.

“Between nannies and now, Nick. Tell me about that time in your life.” She nestled closer, and as she pressed against him, he stiffened slightly.

Nick looked off toward the hills, then rubbed his fingers up and down her back. His voice was low and hesitant. “Not much to tell, Halley. School, finance courses, and then the family banking business.”

“I—I suppose a business like that can soak up years of your life,” she said. He’d carefully put a distance there, stretched it out fine and firm between
them. For a brief moment Halley felt sad and alone, but she quickly brushed the feeling away.
Nonsense, Finnegan
, she scolded herself. Sometimes she came on like a Mack truck. The man needed a little space, that was all, and the day was far too gorgeous to ruin because of fragile feelings. Smiling brightly, she lifted herself onto her knees and began folding napkins and piling up the plates. “You provided lunch, kind sir. I’ll take care of the cleanup.”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, pulling her to her feet. “Leave it. We only have a short time left. Let’s walk.”

She smiled in agreement, eager to slip back into the comfortable closeness they’d shared earlier, and with their arms looped around each other’s waists, they wandered through a nest of wildflowers and down the gentle bank to the lake. Their bodies touched with a new familiarity, and their minds were busy with the emotions that had gone unspoken but were weaving a gentle web around them. The distance may have been all in her mind, Halley decided. At least for now that’s how she was determined to see it.

“It’s so peaceful,” she said, her head filled with the lovely day and her heart filled with Nick Harrington.

Nick nodded and pulled her closer, and he could feel her body warmth seep into him through his arms, his hips, everywhere their bodies touched. Her lush, ripe curves were a tantalizing delight just beneath his fingertips, and he felt he could walk forever like this. Just he and Halley, and brilliant splashes of sunshine showing them the way.

When they spoke, the conversation was light and pleasant, about things that didn’t matter. It was enough that they were there together, hips rubbing gently and hearts reaching out.

When they circled the small lake and ended up
back at the picnic spot, they both felt inexplicably sad that they had to leave.

“We should have brought a Frisbee,” Halley said.

“Next time,” Nick said, knowing for certain he wanted there to be a next time.

They piled the china and crystal glasses and napkins back into the elegant hamper, and as Halley bent over to close it, she laughed out loud. “Oh, Nick—”

“Oh, Nick, what?”

“You left the price tag on your hamper.”

Nick spotted the small white tag and tore it off the handle. “So much for impressing you with my casual, spontaneous picnic attempt.” He lowered his head and kissed her lightly just above the ear. “The truth is out.”

“But it
was
spontaneous—and very, very lovely.” She lifted her palm to his cheek. “And I’m duly impressed, Nick. Thank you.” Lifting herself on tiptoe, she kissed him slowly, loving being there with him, loving the day and the quiet of the park. It was Halley and Nick, and she no longer felt the awkwardness of the masquerade. Right now, for this special moment, nothing on earth mattered but the two of them.

Nick’s hands lifted to nestle in her hair, and he moaned softly beneath her kiss.

“I’ll go on a picnic with you any day,” she whispered as she pulled away.

“Is that a promise?” Nick held her there for a long moment, his dark eyes asking for far more than picnics.

A familiar rush of warmth fanned out between her legs before burrowing down inside her. “Nick,” she whispered softly, “is crab salad an aphrodisiac?” His husky laughter tickled her neck, and she pressed her cheek against his shoulder.

“Nope. It’s you and me, that’s all.”

“Strange,” she murmured.

“But very, very nice.” He picked up the basket and led her to the car. They drove slowly back to town, the day a sweet memory between them.