The Baron (21 page)

They would … She bit down hard on her bottom lip to stop the quivering.

“Halley, come see,” Nell called to her, and Halley slipped out of the dreamy, shaky future and looked at the little girl, crouched down at the edge of the pond. One of the ducks had crawled up beside her and was nuzzling into her pocket for more candy. Nell was giggling fiercely.

“Oh, Nell.” Halley laughed as she wiped away another tear and hurried to her side. “You’ve a friend for life, I think.”

“Daisy,” the little girl whispered so she wouldn’t scare him away. “I named him Daisy.”

Halley nodded in agreement and started to kneel down beside her. “A perfect na—”

She hadn’t seen the soft, oozing mud, nor had she expected it. In a split second her tennis shoes flew out from beneath her and Halley landed with a squishy thud at the edge of the pond. The wind was
knocked clear out of her for a brief moment, and she couldn’t speak.

“Halley!” Nell screamed. The duck darted for the swamp, but not before he’d crashed into Nell’s short, slender legs and sent her sprawling to the ground next to Halley. With a splash that cascaded up onto the ground and sprayed Nell and Halley from head to foot, he disappeared beneath the water.

“Nell, are you all right?” Halley quickly wrapped an arm around Nell’s shoulders and checked her over.

“You look funny,” Nell managed as a wide grin spread across her face.

Halley looked down. Her jeans and sweater were covered from head to toe with mud, and she could feel the wet drops of mud across her cheeks.

“You look pretty funny, too, my little friend.” She grinned at Nell and pointed to her pink slacks.

Nell looked down and giggled. They were patterned with a fine spray of mud. Then she impulsively dug her hands into the mud and watched it squish out between her fingers.

Halley laughed as little plops landed between them. With a finger she traced a smiling face in the mud, and Nell jubilantly added eyes and ears, and their building laughter blossomed up around them.

When Nick finally found them, the backs of their heads were all he could see: Nell’s long, straight black hair moving softly in the wind, and Halley’s russet mane a startling contrast as it swayed with their laughter. Their legs were stuck straight out in front of them on the edge of the pond, and they appeared to be making mud pies.

The only sounds in the world were their laughter mingling with the wind and the slow, lapping movement of the water.

His heart leaped up into his throat and lodged there tightly.

Abbie had told him Halley was on the estate somewhere with Nell, and then she had urged him to go and find them.

It was Nell’s laughter, so pure and musical, that had led him out to the pond.

As he watched, Halley reached over and brushed Nell’s hair back from her face, and he spotted the mud specks mixing with her freckles. Nell’s face matched Halley’s, with little streaks of dirt across her chin and cheeks.

They were beautiful.

He didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to let the moment move on. Could love make one explode? he wondered vaguely. He loved Halley so very, very much. His heart swelled painfully as he watched her head move back in laughter and Nell’s tiny hand reach for hers. It was too big, this love, too powerful for Halley not to feel it.

Somehow she’d have to see that. Somehow … he took one step closer and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his slacks.

“Hi.”

Nell and Halley responded together, their heads turning to the side, then twisting back. They saw him at exactly the same moment.

Nick felt an uncomfortable sting behind his eyelids.

“Nick!”

“Daddy.”

Halley’s heart began to beat rapidly, and she looked to Nell to help her up. Nell laughingly tugged at her arm until the two had regained their footing.

Words collided inside her head—how she loved him, how sorry she was, how unfair she’d been. Nothing could get beyond the huge lump swelling in her throat.

Halley ran to him, her hair flying, speckles of mud scattering in the air. She threw her arms around
him and held him close, her head buried in his chest and the tears rolling down onto his sweater.

It took a brief, disbelieving second for Nick to understand, and then his arms were around her tightly. “My darling …” he murmured into her hair.

Nell stood apart, her face bathed in smiles.

Finally, without a word, they pulled apart and looked up into each other’s faces.

“Daddy,” Nell said softly, “this is my friend Halley.”

Nick reached out a hand and pulled Nell to them. “I could tell you were friends. Your mud matches.” His voice was choked and strained, but Nell didn’t seem to notice.

“Would you like to play with us?” Nell asked.

Nick looked from Nell to Halley’s tear-streaked face, then back to Nell. “How about a lifetime, princess, if Halley’s willing?”

Nell giggled. “Okay, but we need to go back for lunch now.” She looked curiously from one adult to the other, as if she wasn’t at all sure why they looked so peculiar.

She started to skip off ahead of them, and Nick and Halley followed slowly, their fingers wound tightly together. “I love you so much, Halley Elizabeth Mary Finnegan.”

Halley didn’t want to talk, her heart was so full, but there were things that needed to be said. “Nick, I’ve been so unfair to you—”

“Halley, Archie says it’s irrelevant to talk about what’s fair and not fair. It’s a waste of time.”

“Oh, he does?” She slipped her fingers loose and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Yes, and he also said you’re a wonderful person, but if you continue on this collision course with disaster, he’s going to have to step in.”

“I see.” Her fingers played with the skin at his side, and she felt the warmth building up and encompassing
her. Soon, she was sure, all breathing would stop.

“And—” Nick said huskily.

“Shh.” Halley pressed her fingers to his lips.

“Ah, the Contessa wants to speak?”

“No, mostly the Contessa wants to love you. And so does Halley Finnegan. Forever.” She placed one palm flat on his chest and looked up into deep black eyes that could see right down into the center of her soul.

“That’s a long time,” Nick murmured into her hair.

“Not nearly long enough, my Baron. Not nearly long enough.”

THE EDITOR’S CORNER

Welcome to the new Loveswept!

It’s really thrilling to unveil the first eight Loveswept titles and to share with you these treasured classics:

Iris Johansen’s voluptuous historical
THIS FIERCE SPLENDOR
.

Sharon and Tom Curtis’s heartbreaking
LIGHTNING THAT LINGERS
.

Debra Dixon’s searing western
TALL, DARK, AND LONESOME
.

Juliana Garnett’s magical medieval
THE VOW
.

Sally Goldenbaum’s sexy romp
THE BARON
.

Annette Reynolds’s heart-melting contemporary romance
REMEMBER THE TIME
.

Adrienne Staff’s alluring
DREAM LOVER
.

Deborah Smith’s legendary
LEGENDS
.

These very special novels made hearts beat faster when they first appeared in the 1980s and 1990s, and we haven’t changed a word of the original text or updated them in any way—they are as seductive, intimate, warmhearted, and sizzling as when they first appeared. I know that you’ll love them as much as we do—whether they are new to you or beloved reads from your past that have been far too long out of print and unavailable.

Going forward, we promise to bring you the very finest in both classic romance titles and brand-new works from authors who will quickly become your favorites.

If you love romance…then you’re ready to be
Loveswept
!

Gina Wachtel

Associate Publisher

P.S. Watch for these terrific Loveswept titles coming this fall: in September,
SPELLBOUND
by the wonderful Adrienne Staff; in October, the red-hot
TENDER LOVING CURE
by Gayle Kasper; November will bring the scorching first novel in debut author Jessica Scott’s Coming Home trilogy,
BECAUSE OF YOU
; and Rexanne Becnel’s spellbinding
ROSE OF BLACKSWORD
is our December title. Don’t miss any of these extraordinary reads. I guarantee that you’ll fall in love and treasure these stories for years to come….

T
he front porch of the Victorian house provides the only relief from the afternoon sun. The threat of a thunder-storm will only make the heat worse, and the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia hunkers down to wait out the summer of 1977. Likewise, the three teenagers who sit sprawled, on the porch in various states of heat prostration
.

“Can it get any hotter?” Kate asks, her voice taking on just the slightest hint of a whine
.

“Don’t say that.” Paul watches a fly take a desultory stroll across his forearm
.

“Bet it’s hotter than this in Arizona,” Mike comments
.

“But it’s a dry heat,” Paul and Kate say in unison. Paul looks down at Kate and they grin at each other
.

No one on that porch doubts Paul Armstrong will be in Phoenix next summer. He is the golden boy of Staunton High School’s baseball team. Making it to the majors isn’t a pipe dream for Paul. His self-confidence will make it happen
.

Kate groans as she raises her head from Paul’s lap
.

“Where’re you going, Ms. Moran?” Paul asks, his fingers closing around her wrist
.

“Get more tea.”

“Ya gotta kiss me first.”

“It’s too hot,” she moans, but they all know she doesn’t mean it
.

Both boys watch Kate’s walk to the front door. Her cutoffs are short and her legs are long. Mike silently sings the praises of summer. The screen door slaps closed behind her and, for a few seconds, the relentless drone of the cicadas is silenced
.

Mike feels a rivulet of sweat trickle down the nape of his neck. He looks over at his best friend. “How’d you get so lucky?” he asks
.

Paul slouches lower in the porch swing, setting off a gentle rocking motion. “It’s that Armstrong charm.”

Mike snorts and shifts in the wicker armchair
.

“Hey, we both had an equal shot at her.” Paul’s voice holds the hint of a shrug. “She picked me.”

Mike remembers it differently, but says, “Yeah. I guess she’s not as smart as she looks.”

“I heard that, Michael Fitzgerald,” Kate states, pushing open the screen door
.

“Heard what?” Mike asks innocently
.

Kate perches on the porch railing and rolls the cool glass across her forehead
.

“You know I love you both. Just different.”

“Please don’t give me that ‘I love you like a brother’ routine. It wounds me,” Mike says in what he hopes passes for mock pain
.

The glass at her lips, Kate rolls her eyes at him then closes them and tilts her head back to take a long drink
.

Her thick auburn hair is pulled back in a high pony tail, but a few heat-damp strands cling to her neck. Mike wants to lift them, blow on her hot skin. He wants to put his mouth there and taste her. The thought brings on the beginning of an erection and he guiltily glances at Paul
.

When Mike sees those amused hazel eyes looking back at him he knows he’s been caught
.

T
he initial assault on his body knocked the wind out of him. Gasping for air, he was swept along in the tumult of the newly born river in the Arizona desert. Rocks pummeled him. One particularly jagged stone hit his leg with such force that it slashed his jeans and cut open his thigh. He could feel the warm blood swirling around him, contrasting sharply with the cold water. A small manzanita tree swept past him, caught his left arm, and pulled it back. He could hear the snap as a bone broke. The pain made him scream, and then there was nothing but numbness.

The thoughts that flashed through his mind were quicksilver and, in some ways, senseless.
There goes the season
. Followed by,
Kate’s gonna be so pissed when she sees me
. And then,
I’m gonna have to buy Stu a new Jeep
.

A lethargy had come over him and the idea of sleep floated around his mind like a pleasant daydream. But there was something he needed to do. What was it? God, he couldn’t think anymore.

Paul could hear something over the thunderous crashing of the water around him. It must’ve been Mitch.
Mitch is gonna be late. I’ll have to explain it all to his wife…
Opening his eyes, Paul caught sight of the Jeep and
remembered the most important thing. The thing he’d forgotten.