The Baron Page 11

  “Well, Halley, I’ve got to scoot. We’re having a sale today. Come by if you can. Ciao.”

  “ ’Bye, Rosie.” Halley hung up the phone and picked up her Saturday list of things to do, but her energy for routine things seemed to have disappeared. She wanted to curl up in a chair and … and what? And nothing. How silly of her.

  She ran a brush through her hair, grabbed her list, and allowed herself only a minute to stare at the phone.

  Were they having dinner tonight or not? An edge of discomfort crept into her thoughts. Damn, it was happening. This wasn’t a dream any longer. Dreams you woke up from and went on your merry way, holding in the good feelings, tossing out the bad. You didn’t stare at phones and wish them to ring, or expect him to come strolling down your walk in the middle of the morning.

  Halley sighed, grabbed her glasses from the table beside the door, and hurried out.

  “I’m bringing a date tonight, Syl.” Breakfast was finished, and much of the usual chitchat was behind them. Nick had had an early-morning meeting at the bank, and when Syl suggested breakfast afterward, it seemed like a good thing to do. He hadn’t seen her since the mystery weekend.

  “Darling, that’s fine. You know you’re always welcome to bring someone.” Sylvia Harrington lowered her coffee cup and smiled affectionately at Nick. “Is it someone I know?”

  “Yes and no.” He motioned to the waiter for more coffee and then continued. “It’s Halley Finnegan.”

  “Halley Finnegan …” Sylvia tilted her head to one side thoughtfully. “I don’t believe I know any Finnegans, although the name has a vaguely familiar ring to it.”

  “Halley was my date at your party. The Contessa.”

  “The Contessa, of course! Leo Thorne’s friend.”

  “Yes, and now she’s my friend too.”

  Syl studied him for a moment. She was silent.

  “I’ve seen her a few times since then—”

  “She is certainly a ravishingly beautiful woman.”

  Nick leaned back in the chair and rested his hands on the white linen tablecloth. A small smile eased the tension in his jaw. “The Contessa is, yes. Halley is beautiful, too, but in a different way. It’s hard to explain, but you’ll see.”

  “Nicky, I can see from your eyes that you are very fond of Halley Finnegan.”

  He nodded. “At first she was a lark, a mystery woman who beckoned me into the vast unknown. You know, an exciting fling. I wanted to follow her, discover her.”

  “And …?”

  “And I may have discovered far more than I can handle. The feelings that she …” He lifted the bill from the silver tray and smiled at Sylvia. “I don’t know, Syl. It’s definitely not the lark I was expecting.” His eyes seemed to deepen as he thought about her, and the smile lingered. “She’s far more like a nightingale, you might say.”

  After paying the waiter Nick helped his aunt from her chair, and together they walked out into the restaurant lobby, unaware of admiring glances at the handsome picture they presented—the elderly gray-haired lady with the demeanor of a queen and the handsome younger man at her side.

  Sylvia touched one gloved finger to her cheek thoughtfully. “You know, of course, that Abbie and Stan will be with us tonight, Nicholas.”

  Of course he did. It hadn’t been a conscious decision to bring Halley, just a vague feeling that the Melroses should meet her again. Maybe things would make more sense then. Maybe set against the backdrop of his life connections he’d see things more clearly.

  Nick straightened his tie automatically and picked up his car keys from the marble-topped table beside the door. Time to go. When he’d finally reached Halley on the telephone in the late afternoon, he told her he’d be by at seven-thirty, plenty of time, for them to drive downtown to meet the others. She’d thought that sounded fine and hadn’t even asked who “the others” were. It was a simple kind of trust that left him feeling strangely protective toward her.

  The drive to the Hill was becoming second nature to him; he felt he could close his eyes and the car would find its way to Halley, wherever she was, and the thought made him vaguely warm and content.

  After Anne had died, he hadn’t immediately decided not to get involved again. It was simply that that kind of energy had been sucked out of him the day he buried her. He’d lost his connection to things that mattered, and he had found a way to function quite nicely within a framework of frantic work; extravagant, whirlwind vacations; and indifference. The indifference made everything bearable. There’d been plenty of women in his life and that had worked just fine. Until now.

  Without reducing his speed, Nick made a sharp right turn into the Thorne Estate.

  Hell, what was he doing thinking such serious thoughts? They’d known each other such a short time. She knew so little about him. So damnably little …

  Halley was ready and on her way out to the car before he stopped the engine. “Anxious?” He laughed as he opened the door and helped her in.

  “Just ready. And happy to see you.”

  Nick sat still for a moment, taking in the sight of her. She was lit by moonlight, and her hair was alive with an unearthly red-gold shimmer. It seemed fuller tonight, waving down like a gentle waterfall until it reached her shoulders.

  “Do I look all right? Since I didn’t know where we were going, I took a chance.” He was staring at her with an expression that filled her with longing, and she had to pull her gaze away from his.

  “Perfect,” he murmured, and started the engine. No, perfect wasn’t the right word, but he didn’t want to wait around to find it, or they might never make it to the club. She wasn’t the Contessa tonight; she was Halley Finnegan, in all her tender, natural beauty.

  The eyeglasses she usually wore had been replaced by contact lenses, and they made her blink in an appealing, sexy way. Her dress was an emerald-green silk that heightened the light in her eyes. Its simple scooped neckline was broken only by a small cameo pin in the center.

  Nick didn’t think it possible that he could be so moved by loveliness, but it took an heroic effort not to ditch the whole evening’s plans and drive directly back to his apartment. He rubbed the back of his fingers lightly against her cheek and fiercely fought his desire, finally dropping his hand to the wheel and pulling the car onto the main road.

  “Well, Nick, just where are we headed?” Halley asked lightly, feeling acutely that one of them needed to neutralize the air in the small car—and the sooner, the better!

  “The River Club. Syl and Herb have a sort of tradition. We get together at the club once a month, and that assures we stay in touch.”

  “The three of you?”

  “No.” Nick pulled the car onto the highway and headed downtown. “There’s another couple. You may remember them from the party—Abbie and Stan Melrose. They’re close friends.”

  “That’s nice.” Halley directed her attention out the window at the flickering lights passing by and tried to place the Melroses, but she couldn’t. She’d met so many people that weekend. Well, it didn’t really matter. She’d meet them soon. The Harringtons, the Melroses, Nick. She wondered briefly why he had called it a family gathering but let it pass. Friends can be almost family; Rosie certainly was.

  The River Club was a luxurious club in downtown Philadelphia. It sat on top of a hill that commanded a breathtaking view of the city and the river below. Nick was greeted familiarly by the tuxedoed maître d’, and then they were led to a linen-draped table beside a wall of windows where Nick’s aunt and uncle welcomed them warmly.

  Halley immediately felt comfortable with Syl and Herb, just as she had at their home, and wondered briefly what Nick’s parents had been like. They must have been quite the opposite of these two lovely people, whom she couldn’t imagine ever giving their child to servants to raise. She’d tried to tell her sister Bridget about Nick’s upbringing, but as Bridget’s brood milled around them, Halley had found herself unable to. Although Nick was matter-of-fact about his past,
she found this particular aspect of it nearly impossible to comprehend, and the nagging, uncomfortable suspicion that there was more to tell grew right along with the depth of her emotions.

  “Ah, here they are!” Herb rose from his chair, and the other three at the table followed his gaze.

  A couple, slightly older than the Harringtons and both elegantly dressed and distinguished-looking, joined them.

  When the introductions were made, Halley did remember meeting the Melroses. She realized Stan had been the one who’d solved the murder, and she’d sat next to Abbie at dinner and had thought her charming and lovely. When she watched Nick seat the gray-haired lady next to him, she remembered something else—the deep affection for the older woman that Nick had shown, even when acting as the Baron von Bluster.

  The Harringtons had perfected the art of entertaining, and Halley found herself carried along on the lively conversation and superb dinner. But all through the creamed oyster appetizer and the delicate veal in wine sauce entrée, through the fine glasses of expertly chosen wine, she was intensely aware of Abbie Melrose and the careful, attentive way she listened to every word that came out of Halley’s mouth.

  “Have you lived in this area all your life?” Abbie asked as they dipped into the creamiest chocolate mousse Halley had ever tasted.

  “Yes,” Halley answered with a smile. “Except when I went away to college, but there’s a bit of the homing pigeon in me. I came back to stay.”

  “You’re a librarian, Nick says.” She said it kindly, as if she thought it was somehow a delightful thing.

  “Of sorts,” Halley said, then launched into an animated description of her duties at the Thorne Estate Library. “It’s a wonderful job for me,” she finally concluded. “I love kids, books, and mayhem. This job gives me incredible doses of all three.” Her face was flushed, and she hoped they all understood it was from her enthusiasm over her chosen career and didn’t suspect that Nick’s fingers were creating havoc with her composure beneath the table.

  No one seemed to notice.

  “Leo is a friend of all of ours and says wonderful things about the library,” Herb said, leaning back in his chair and allowing the waiter to light his cigar. “But mostly he says wonderful things about you, Halley.”

  Halley smiled and dipped her spoon back into the mousse. She wasn’t learning nearly as much about these people as she would have liked. Perhaps it was time she directed the conversation.

  “Enough about me. Mr. and Mrs. Melrose, tell me, how long have you known Nick?”

  Abbie Melrose seemed startled by the question. She looked briefly at Nick, then back to Halley, softening the look on her face with a smile. “We’ve known Nick since he was a little boy. His parents were acquaintances, and Nick spent many hours in our home.”

  Each word seemed carefully chosen, although not insincere. Halley looked carefully at Stan and Abbie and decided to ask Nick more about them later. Her question seemed to have bred slight discomfort in them which she didn’t want to heighten.

  Sylvia then picked up the conversation and enthralled them all with stories about a recent trip she and Herb had taken to Australia.

  Halley listened, smiled, nodded, and felt perfectly at ease. Except when she felt Abbie’s gaze gently trying to read her face.

  “Well, folks,” Nick announced as he noticed the tiredness in the older couples’ eyes. He stood and pulled out Halley’s chair. “I think I’d better get my librarian home. She’s not much of a late-nighter.”

  Abbie looked up at Halley and took her hand between her own lined palms. “Halley, this has been a delightful evening. Stan and I would love to have you come out to our home sometime to visit.” She looked briefly at Nick, then back to Halley. “Do have Nick bring you out.”

  Halley pondered the invitation as they waited for the valet to bring the car. It hadn’t been exactly an invitation. It was more a statement of something that should be done. Strange. Yet it had been done in a most warm, gracious way. Halley was puzzled, but just as she was about to say something to Nick, the car arrived beneath the canopied entrance to the River Club.

  “They’re lovely people, Nick,” Halley said as they drove out of the circular drive.

  “Yes, they are. So are you.” One arm reached over and slipped around her shoulder.

  It felt good, and Halley realized that although she’d felt at ease, there had been a tension to the evening.

  When Nick pulled her closer, she laughed lightly. “These little cars don’t allow much getaway room, do they?” She tugged lightly at the fingers nesting in the hollow of her neck.

  “Do you want to get away?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer right away, as if she were putting a tremendous amount of thought into it, but she really didn’t need to think at all. She had wanted to enter Nick’s world to put some perspective on her feelings, but it hadn’t helped. She wanted Nick terribly, and right now it didn’t matter where he came from or where he was going or if he’d been raised as a Russian czar. She curled her fingers around his and lifted them to her lips. “No, I don’t want to get away.”

  His fingers began to work magic on her neck muscles, and Halley made a small contented noise.

  Nick smiled. “If you’re not too tired, how about coming to my apartment for a nightcap?”

  She nodded against the curve of his arm and let his warmth seep into her. She’d known he’d ask; she’d known she’d say yes.…

  Nick’s apartment was in a tall modern building only minutes away. A glass elevator whisked them up to the top floor, and Halley was grateful that Nick’s arm had remained around her waist the whole time. She didn’t trust her knees, and it might have alarmed the other couple who rode with them as far as the eighth floor if she melted into a puddle at their feet.

  As soon as the wide, polished doors opened on the top floor, Nick turned her toward him and kissed her hard until her knees did give out. It didn’t matter, because Nick’s arms were tight around her.

  “I couldn’t wait one more second.”

  “Chocolate mousse … and now this,” Halley murmured.

  “Which is better?” Nick nuzzled little kisses into her hair.

  “Hard to say, Harrington. They’re both sinfully delicious.”

  The heat from his kisses passed through her like an electric current, and every tiny part of her was touched and sparked to life.

  “Nick …”

  He finally pulled away. “Yes, my love?”

  “My contact fell out.”

  “Halley, you say the most romantic things.” He looked into her eyes but didn’t notice the absence of the lens. Both eyes looked devastatingly beautiful.

  “It might be on me,” she said softly, trying to examine the front of her dress without moving.

  “Ah, let me handle that.” With sure fingers Nick explored the front of her dress, pulling out the silky material from her hips, then lazily circling the neckline. “Don’t see it here.”

  His voice had turned husky, and the searching, sliding movements were turning her mind to mush. She took in a quick little breath, and Nick responded immediately to the lift of her breasts.

  “Ah, maybe there!” his fingers slipped beneath the edge of the material and rubbed along the creamy peach rise of her breasts, back and forth, then dipped a fraction of an inch to explore the lacy top of her camisole. “Now, it could be …” Two fingers slipped between her breasts and moved slowly up and down, sliding over the silky skin.

  “Oh, Nick,” Halley murmured.

  “I haven’t found the contact yet.”

  “You’ve found plenty of contact. I can barely breathe. May we go inside?”

  Nick’s fingers did one more curling, tantalizing search of her breasts, then moved upward. “Certainly. The search-and-find maneuvers were a success.”

  He cupped his hand and showed her the tiny contact lens in the center of his palm.

  “I won’t ask when, in said maneuver, it was found.”


  “Good idea,” he murmured. “But if it gets lost again, at least I’ll know the territory.”

  Nick unlocked the mahogany double doors and ushered her into a small, elegant entry hall.

  “Please aim me toward the rest room, kind Baron, and I shall restore my sight.”

  Halley was back in seconds and found Nick in a spacious living area pouring two glasses of sherry. His back was to her, and she took that minute to look around the room. Nick’s apartment. It had been in her dreams, of course, but it hadn’t looked anything like this.

  The room was exquisitely decorated. Heavy glass-topped tables sat beside curved, upholstered chairs; chrome étagéres were positioned against the silk fabric walls and displayed statues, golden eggs, and carved glass animals that caught the light and reflected it back. There was a marble fireplace without any ash in it, shiny and clean. Everything was perfect.

  Nick turned around and smiled when he saw her. “Well, this is it, home sweet home.” He moved to her side and handed her a crystal glass.

  Halley walked slowly across the thick mauve carpet, taking in the brass-edged liquor cabinet and the perfectly placed art books on the coffee table.

  Nick followed close behind. Finally he drew her down onto the cream-colored sofa. “Well, do you like it?” There was laughter in his voice.

  Halley wet her bottom lip.

  “The apartment, I mean.”

  When she finally met his glance, she saw the laughter spilling out. He knew she didn’t like it. Of course he did. He’d been living in her world too long not to know that. “Well, it’s certainly elegant … and perfect …”

  “And …?” Nick nudged.

  Halley tilted her head and scanned the room. “Well …”

  “Out with it, Halley.” Nick’s arm curled around her neck.

  Halley offered him a half smile. “It looks like a room that took itself too seriously.”

  His deep laughter filled the room. The penthouse meant nothing to him. It was a place to sleep, to entertain if need be. It wasn’t a home and never had been. “Too serious, huh? That’s terrific, Halley. Well, someone had to take it seriously. I sure as hell never have.”