One Night with Prince Charming (14 page)

“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.

P
ia 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?”

“No, please,” she declined. “I'm fine at the moment.”

She removed her hat and coat, and Lucy took them and her purse from her to place on a nearby coatrack.

As they both sat down in vacant chairs, Pia looked around the smallish room. It boasted a mirrored dressing table lit by
naked bulbs and strewn with an array of makeup and hair preparation items. There was also the coatrack, a few chairs and plenty of discarded wardrobe items.

Pia let her gaze come back to Lucy, and she smiled encouragingly. “You are one of the calmest brides whom I have ever worked with.”

Lucy laughed. “I suppose I'd be more nervous if work wasn't keeping me so busy. But then I'm used to performing in front of people, and isn't a wedding a type of performance?”

“I suppose that explains it.”

Lucy looked at her thoughtfully. “I want to thank you for attending the engagement party at Silderly Park. You left so soon, I didn't have time to say anything.”

“Yes, well…” Pia found it hard to hold Lucy's gaze. “It was my pleasure.”

Lucy tilted her head. “I don't suppose your abrupt departure had anything to do with Hawk and Michelene?”

Pia was startled by the direct question, and for a moment, she wasn't sure she'd heard correctly.

“Wh-what makes you ask that?” she said, eyes wide.

She flushed to think about how many of the other guests at the engagement party had surmised what happened.

Lucy smiled understandingly. “When it's your brother, and you're on the verge of getting married yourself, you notice things.”

“You needn't worry,” she tried gamely. “I'm well-prepared to deal with Michelene and H-Hawk's w-wedding plans.”

“Pia…”

She fought to hold on to her composure. How humiliating would it be to break down in front of Hawk's sister, and to have Lucy tell Hawk about it?

Lucy's smile flickered, comprehension in her eyes. “If it helps, I'm convinced Hawk cares about you. Very much.”

If he cared, Pia thought, he would have told her about Michelene instead of having her discover the other woman's
position in his life in such a public way. If he cared, he would have called or contacted her.

If he cared, he wouldn't be so charming and easy to fall in love with.

Good grief, she thought, was there no end to Hawk's ability to toy with her life?

Lucy sighed. “I believe Michelene's arrival caught Hawk by surprise as much as it did you.”

Pia thinned her lips. “I'm sure it did. I can just imagine what an uncomfortable position Michelene put him in. He suddenly had his current lover and his future wife under the same roof, and they weren't the same woman!”

Then she belatedly clamped her mouth shut, afraid she'd said too much.

Lucy grimaced. “Hawk has an amazing ability to muck things up, sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Pia queried, regaining some of her aplomb. “You know the first time I met him he presented himself as plain Mr. James Fielding?”

“So the rumors are true,” Lucy murmured, as if speaking to herself.

Pia had wondered how much Lucy realized or suspected about her relationship with Hawk. Now she had her answer.

Lucy searched Pia's face, her own reflecting worry. “I've never seen Hawk as happy as he is with you. Please take that for what it's worth.”

There was a part of her that yearned to believe Lucy's words. She was already a mix of conflicted feelings.

“Do you know he spoke glowingly of you when he suggested I use you as my wedding coordinator?” Lucy went on. “I could see from his face that you weren't a mere acquaintance. I could tell there was more he wasn't telling me.”

Pia felt herself flush. “H-he told me he wanted to make amends for the past…”

“And he mucked up the setting-to-right part, too,” Lucy guessed, finishing for her.

Pia nodded. “He didn't mention Michelene.” She swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat. “But I should have known there'd be someone like her waiting in the wings. There's an expectation he'll marry someone suitable to his rank.”

Lucy sighed again. “Well, there's no getting around the unfortunate fact that Hawk is a duke. However, I'm not sure what Hawk's feelings are, and it's possible not even he knows. He probably has never allowed himself to examine them. I sometimes think he's been on autopilot since William and Father died—on a one-man mission, if you will, to put the dukedom back on sound footing.”

Pia felt her lips pull up in a reluctant smile. “You're a good advocate for him.”

Lucy nodded. “I'm biased, of course, since Hawk is my brother. But I'd also like to think I'm just returning a favor.” She smiled. “After all, Hawk found me a wonderful wedding coordinator—one I didn't even know I needed. And now I'm trying to persuade you to forgive him for his mistakes—just a little, and even if it is for the second time.”

Pia chewed her lip.

Lucy gave her another understanding look. “All I'm saying is give him a chance.”

One part of her, Pia knew, desperately wanted to grasp the shred of hope that Lucy was giving her. Lucy had said nothing about Hawk offering love, marriage or forever more, of course. But then again, if Hawk cared…

As her conflicted feelings assailed her, Pia let herself contemplate a heretofore unthinkable possibility.

She knew she loved Hawk.

Could she remain his lover, knowing their relationship could lead nowhere? Could she let go of the fairy-tale ending that she'd always wanted?

 

“I'm considering keeping my relationship with Hawk…a-at least until he really is engaged to Michelene,” Pia said.

Her statement fell into the conversational void like a wrecking ball crashing through the restaurant's ceiling. It was why she'd waited awhile to make her statement.

Shocked stillness was followed by commotion inside Contadini, where she, Tamara and Belinda were having one of their Sunday brunches—indoors this time in a nod to the December weather.

“What?”

“What?”

Belinda and Tamara spoke practically in unison as they stared at her from the other side of the table.

Tamara sighed. “Oh, Pia.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Belinda followed up.

Pia knew Belinda's harsh judgment was made simply in hopes of jolting her from a bad decision. “I know it may be hard for you to understand.”

“Try impossible.”

“Belinda means well,” Tamara said, jumping in.

“On second thought,” Belinda continued, “maybe you have the right idea, Pia. You can always walk away from an affair.”

Pia understood what Belinda meant. Ironically, Belinda couldn't manage to get
unmarried,
while she herself, the romantic, couldn't find a ticket for a trip down the aisle…

“I knew it,” Belinda mused, resting one silk-sweater-clad arm on the table as they waited for their meal to be cleared. “I knew the minute that you said you were wavering in your negative opinion of Hawk that there was reason to worry. What has he done to you?”

He's turned me inside out. He makes me want to be with him no matter what.

“It makes me happy to be with him,” she said simply.

Belinda rolled her eyes, and Tamara touched her arm as if to restrain her.

“That's how it starts,” Belinda argued, her brows drawing together. “One minute you're having a good time, the next you're in bed thinking you're ready to gift him your body forever more…”

“Are we talking about Pia here?” Tamara asked as she and Pia stared at Belinda.

Belinda pressed her lips together. “Sorry, yes.”

Tamara pulled a worried frown of her own and searched Pia's face. “Have you really considered what this would mean?”

Pia hesitated, and then nodded. She could tell, however, that Tamara had picked up on her short pause before answering.

Tamara sighed. “I wish I'd been able to warn you about Michelene. After you left Gantswood Hall, I questioned Sawyer about what he knew. It seems he had his suspicions but felt he'd received enough assurance on the matter.” She pursed her lips and shook her head. “I just wish Sawyer had bothered to tell me!”

“It's okay, Tamara,” Pia responded. “It's not your fault.”

Belinda shook her head, her expression perplexed and disbelieving. “Have you thought this through, Pia? Because, you know, he's a duke with an obligation to produce a legitimate heir sooner rather than later. This would give you only a little more time with him. And he's misled you now
twice.
”

Pia had followed the same train of thought a dozen times already, tormenting herself. She was hoping it would be a long while before Hawk was officially engaged. He'd asserted during their argument that he hadn't planned a proposal or bought a ring. Did she dare believe him?

She'd managed to leave Silderly Park with a shred of dignity and self-respect, but only by the barest of margins. Was she willing to throw her self-respect out the window now by going
back to Hawk's bed with no strings attached after all that had happened?

“Perhaps Tamara and I aren't the ones to be talking to you about this,” Belinda joked with dark humor. “We're the first wives club, after all.”

“The first and only,” Tamara modified.

“For you, I hope,” Belinda said. “For me, I wouldn't mind if Colin found another wife.” A look of pain flashed across her friend's face in contradiction of her belligerent tone. “But even if Tamara and I can't fully relate to the situation, we still know
you.
Do you really think you could do this—hold on to Hawk for now and then let him go?”

“It's fine for you and Tamara to be married to aristocrats,” Pia replied. “But unlike the both of you, I wasn't born into a world of titles and money. I don't know much about—”

“Oh, Pia, that's nonsense!” Tamara broke in. “If I had a dollar for every bonhomie aristocrat who married in questionable taste, I wouldn't have needed Sawyer to bail out Pink Teddy Designs.”

Despite herself, Pia smiled.

“Not that a marriage to you would be in questionable taste, of course,” Tamara hastened to add.

“Of course not,” Belinda joined in.

“Look at me, for example,” Tamara went on as a waiter cleared their plates. “I always considered myself poor countess material.”

Pia smiled uncertainly. It was true that, until a few months ago, Tamara had been a bohemian New York jewelry designer. But she was also the daughter of a British viscount. And she was now, in the space of a few short months, adapting well to straddling the line of what was expected of her as the Earl of Melton's wife and as a New York-based designer.

On top of it all, Tamara glowed with happiness from an adoring husband and a pregnancy that was starting to show.

Pia wasn't sure if, given the chance, she'd fare so well.
Not that she'd have that chance. Hawk had protested that he wasn't ready to marry Michelene yet, but he'd said nothing about having any serious interest in Pia.

She'd longed for a happy ending for herself since she was a little girl. Could she settle for less? Perhaps she was deluding herself into thinking a dead-end affair with Hawk was for the best.

Tamara reached across the table and touched her hand. “I don't want to hear more talk about not being qualified to be a duchess. You're more qualified than I am to be a countess, frankly, if qualifications even enter into it. You know how to throw brilliant parties and entertain impeccably.”