One Night with Prince Charming (Aristocratic Grooms #2)(39)
Author: Anna DePalo

Yet how serious could he ever have been about Michelene if she’d barely even crossed his mind the whole time he’d been with Pia? He asked himself that question now. The idea of proposing to Michelene had never assumed concrete terms…

When the phone rang, he leaned forward and picked up the receiver on his desk. “Yes?”

“Sawyer Langsford is here to see you.”

“Tell him to come in.”

After replacing the phone, he rose from his chair, just in time to see Sawyer walk into his office.

As Hawk came around his desk, he was glad to see his friend, even though he had some suspicion as to what had precipitated this visit.

“If you’re here to castigate me,” he said without preamble, “I can assure you that I’m already doing a fine job of it myself.”

Sawyer smiled wryly. “Tamara suggested a duel at dawn, but I set her straight that it wasn’t quite the thing anymore among us aristocrats.”

“Good Lord, I should hope not,” Hawk muttered as he shook hands with Sawyer. “I don’t think my mother would take kindly to the dukedom passing into the hands of a distant cousin for lack of male heirs.”

Sawyer’s eyes crinkled.

Hawk nodded at one of the chairs set before his desk. “Have a seat.”

Sawyer sat down, and Hawk went back around his desk and reclaimed his chair.

Sawyer’s lips twisted into a sardonic smile. “My impression actually was that you were doing your utmost to sire an heir.”

Hawk wasn’t sure if Sawyer was referring to his liaison with Pia or rumors of his prospective proposal to Michelene. In any case, it hardly mattered.

“Ah, yes, the heart of the matter,” Hawk said, steepling his fingers. “This is what has gotten me into hot water. Even your Mrs. Hollings is apparently on to the story.”

Sawyer shrugged. “What can I say? Mrs. Hollings’s realm extends even beyond my reach.”

“Obviously.”

“Much as I hate to point out the obvious,” Sawyer said, “Mrs. Hollings was reporting a story of your own creation.”

Hawk sighed, acknowledging the truth of Sawyer’s statement. “Much to my regret.”

Sawyer smiled. “In any case, my pretext for coming here was to extend an apology in person for your name’s appearance in the wrong section of one of my newspapers.”

Hawk inclined his head in mock solemnity. “Thank you. Far better than a duel at dawn.”

“Quite.” Sawyer arched a brow. “I did caution you about Pia.”

“Yes, I recall,” Hawk replied. “And I proceeded heedlessly. Obviously, I’m an inconsiderate libertine of the first order. A debaucher of innocence.”

In fact, these days he found himself questioning what his intentions had been all along. Had he been disingenuous? And even if his intentions had been good, they now lay like flotsam on the shore.

Sawyer inclined his head. “You can always be reformed.”

“I thought I was.”

Sawyer gave a hint of a smile. “Again, then. You’re the only one who can fix this situation.”

Hawk twisted his lips. “How? I’ve been racking my brain and have yet to come up with a solution.”

“You will,” Sawyer replied. “I was sitting where you are only a few months ago, thinking similar thoughts about Tamara. Except that you came into your title unexpectedly as a younger son, unlike me and Easterbridge. You had less time to get accustomed to it. All I’ll say is, yes, the title is a responsibility, but don’t let yourself get overburdened by it. Think about what makes you happy rather than what’s suitable.”

Hawk nodded, surprised by Sawyer’s insight, though maybe he shouldn’t have been.

Sawyer’s lips tilted upward. “And lastly, women appreciate grand gestures.” He checked his watch. “Now, if you’re free, let’s have lunch.”

Hawk shook his head in amused disbelief as he and Sawyer both rose from their seats. He’d had enough of grand gestures. Look where they’d landed him.

Still, he would venture to guess that Sawyer was correct.

Thirteen

Pia had decided to lie low.

She wasn’t sure where and how Mrs. Hollings was getting her information, but the columnist seemed to have sources in the most unlikely of places.

In fact, Pia wondered fancifully for a moment if Mrs. Hollings had been able to bribe information out of Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy was known to be a pushover for having his tummy rubbed or for a handful of kitty treats.

As she moved along Broadway from the subway to her destination—jostled occasionally on the crowded street by a passerby or tourist—she noted that it was an unusually bright December day. So unlike her mood.

She’d suggested to Lucy that they meet in her dressing room before her performance tonight. She didn’t want to run the risk of encountering Hawk at his house.

She didn’t want to face him until she was ready, which might be never.

Still, though it was nonsensical, at the same time she missed Hawk terribly.

He appeared to be giving her a wide berth—it was the only way to explain why she hadn’t heard from him. He could have tracked her down. He knew where she lived.

She was almost annoyed with him for not tracking her down. If he cared, wouldn’t he beat a path to her door to mount a defense, however feeble?

Pia sighed. She ought to have hardened her heart against Hawk since their last confrontation. Instead, she was a mass of incredibly conflicted feelings.

Perhaps she was a pushover and always would be. She’d learned nothing, clearly, about eradicating her trusting nature and protecting her too-easily-bruised feelings.

Arriving at the Drury Theater, she went in the front entrance and was directed to Lucy’s dressing room.

When she knocked on Lucy’s partially-open dressing room door and then entered, Hawk’s sister swiveled in her chair to face her.

“Pia!” Lucy rose and came over to give her a quick squeeze. “You’re right on time.”

She might have had a falling-out with Hawk, but Pia continued to like Lucy. The other woman’s enthusiasm was almost contagious. And though this wasn’t usually the case with her clients, she believed that she and Lucy had become friends of sorts over the past few months.

“Hardly anyone is here, since it’s hours until curtain time,” Lucy said as she stepped back. “Can I offer you something to drink? Tea—” Lucy’s eyes sparkled with humor “—or maybe coffee or hot chocolate?”