Seduced by the Baron (The Fairy Tales of New York Book 4)

by Amy Andrews

  Mercy squeezed Zel’s hand then turned her attention back to Faith. “Please tell me you’ve had some kind of…mechanical aid during this abstinence?”

  Faith nodded. “I bought one once. Ordered it online. It was the most nerve-wracking four days of my life. I kept thinking Pop was going to get the mail before me and open it accidently and have another heart attack.”

  “That may have been a hard one to explain down at the Lutheran Medical Center,” Zel said.

  “Exactly. But honestly, when it arrived…it looked kind of ridiculous. And have you smelled those things? They smell toxic. Like they were made in a nuclear waste facility. I’m not sure I want something with questionable origins getting all up in my business if you know what I mean.”

  “Clearly you haven’t been on the European party circuit,” Zel muttered.

  “So…you didn’t use it?” Dawn clarified.

  “No.”

  “Oh dear,” Zel muttered. “It’s worse than I thought.” She turned to Mercy. “You know Raf, right? Tell us everything.”

  “Guys,” Faith interrupted as she sensed a plan coming together. “I really appreciate your concern for my sexual welfare but I don’t have time for this. I have a pub to run, remember?”

  But no one listened to her as Mercy started talking. “Let me see. He’s thirty-five. I met him at some international booze fair about five years ago now. His business was just starting out but we hit it off, he asked me on a date – ”

  “A date?” Faith squeaked before she could stop it from tumbling out.

  Mercy had dated Raf? Seriously…what the hell did he see in her when exotic Argentinian vineyard heiresses formed part of his dating pool?

  “Oh no.” Mercy waved a dismissive hand. “We realized after about five minutes that we were too alike and we’ve just been mates, as he says, ever since. We move in the same circles, you know?”

  Faith blinked. She couldn’t believe there’d been no attraction between him and Mercy? Was he blind?

  “What did he do before the beer business?” Dawn asked.

  “He was a surfer for a lot of years. A good one. On the pro circuit. Very popular with the beach bunnies apparently.”

  Of course he was. Faith wished Mercy would stop talking. It was only putting Raf further and further out of her league.

  “I can see him on a surfboard,” Zel said with a nod appreciatively.

  So could Faith. All too well.

  “Explains his ass,” Dawn agreed.

  “I think he injured himself or something so he gave it up and got into beer.”

  “And he’s not ever been married or engaged?” Dawn asked. “What’s the skinny on his private life?”

  “No. His parents divorced when he was a kid and although he doesn’t talk about it much, I get the impression that was kind of a rough time for him. He’s certainly not known for his longevity with the ladies. But rumor has it he’s quite well …” Mercy leaned in closer. “Hung.”

  “Given the size of his feet I’m not surprised,” Zel said.

  Faith pictured his bare wet feet clinging to a surfboard. Or entwined with hers in his bed overlooking Times Square.

  “Plus,” Mercy continued, “he’s supposed to be very good with his hands.”

  Faith almost groaned as she thought of those hands again. It was a sad indictment on her love life that they alone were enough to do it for her without even going anywhere near what he was rumored to have inside his pants.

  “So, he’s a player.” Dawn looked at Mercy and Zel, her nose wrinkling slightly, looking doubtful suddenly. “That’s probably not a good thing.”

  Zel shot Dawn an incredulous look. “Are you crazy? Faith needs to get laid and Raf is…” she held up her hands and ticked each point off, “interested, with a big dick and good with his hands.”

  “But what if she ends up wanting more? What if she falls in love with him and he breaks her heart?”

  Dear Lord. Faith didn’t even want to go there. Sex was already stretching it. “That won’t happen,” she denied with a conviction that was utterly unshakeable.

  Nobody fell instantly in love. Least of all somebody like her with roots and responsibilities. Maybe her parents had back in the twentieth century but not these days.

  The whole idea was just preposterous.

  Dawn looked at her, gentleness tempering her reproach. “Why not, Faith? You’ve spent years nurturing everyone else, maybe it’s your turn? Don’t shut yourself off from that.”

  Faith felt a prickle behind her eyes. She wanted that. Being nurtured, being loved. By a man. The type of love her parents had. Her friends had found. She wanted it to be her turn.

  But that would require a commitment and she already had her hands full juggling Pop and the pub. Faith smiled. It was great seeing Dawn so happy with Finn even if it emphasized her own loneliness unbearably. Dawn had distanced herself from Faith at St. J’s after the wine incident and Faith had blamed herself. It was only in recent times that she’d learned Dawn’s distance had been because of her guilt over her secret liaison with Finn.

  “That’s really sweet, Dawn, but I just can’t think about it at the moment. Not with trying to keep this place afloat and Pop the way he is.”

  Dawn examined Faith critically for long moments before nodding slowly. “Okay fine then, Zel’s right. Just use him for sex. Could be fun I reckon.”

  Faith reckoned too. She looked at her friends. Maybe they were right? Maybe it was time to do something about her life instead of sitting around lamenting it? Take some positive action?

  She was twenty-seven, still living at home and working the same job she’d had since she left school. Surely she deserved one truly passionate fling? One spine-tingling affair that turned her world upside down and made every day thereafter worth living just so she could get up every morning and relive the experience again.

  “I think she likes the idea,” Zel murmured.

  Faith came back to herself realizing her friends were all watching and waiting, clearly wanting her to say yes.

  She took a deep breath. “I do.”

  “Yes,” Dawn said, throwing her arm around Faith’s neck as the others grinned then high-fived each other. “Right, my turn for a round,” she said. “We have much to celebrate.”

  Faith laughed, suddenly feeling sixteen again and about to embark on an adventure with her besties. Like they’d been never been parted.

  “Here we are,” Dawn said as she set the drinks down ten minutes later.

  Business had picked up in Sully’s, the booths were full and the tables were filling as the usual family crowd braved the cold for Sully’s specialty Guinness Pie. Josh, another part-timer, had joined Megan behind the bar.

  “So all we need to do now,” Dawn said, slipping back in beside Faith, “is get a date set up. Mercy, you could arrange that, right?”

  “Er actually…” Faith took a sip of her beer as three pairs of eyes honed in on her. “He’s already asked me out to dinner.”

  “And you said?” Mercy prompted.

  Faith rolled her eyes. “I said no, of course.”

  “What? No. Why?” Mercy demanded.

  “It was before you three decided I needed to use him for sex.”

  “Okay, fine,” Zel said. “Just ring him and tell him you’ve changed your mind and go from there.”

  Faith felt a little of her excitement leach away as the real world suddenly intruded. She wished it was that simple. “Yeh, but I can’t just leave the pub.”

  “You have part-time staff you can bring in and you know it, Faith Sullivan,” Mercy lectured. “So stop being a control freak for a moment.”

  Faith felt chastised. It was true, she did have staff she could call on but she only liked to do that in an emergency. Their customers came to Sully’s for familiarity. “I really don’t like to leave Pop alone at night.”

  Technically he didn’t need anyone to stay with him but Faith was worried about his worsening condition. She fel
t better being there and she knew he appreciated it too. That he’d come to depend on having her there.

  “You make the date and Finn and I will come sit with Pop,” Dawn said.

  “Or Ty and I could,” Zel offered.

  “Casey or Ronan might be able to pitch in too,” Mercy added.

  “They’ll have a gig,” Faith murmured.

  The twins didn’t live that far away in some godforsaken drop-in-drop-out musician’s dive but they performed most nights of the week these days. Their distinctly Gaelic sound and look had been a hit on YouTube and had seen them solidly booked in clubs and pubs throughout the city for the next six months.

  “Make the date, Faith,” Zel insisted.

  “Okay, okay. I have to call him tomorrow about his pitch so I’ll do it then.”

  “Are you going to say yes to his proposal?” Mercy asked.

  Faith considered it now. It wasn’t anything that Sully’s had done in the past – all beer reps had been turned away at the door by her father. But it was the best damn lager she’d ever tasted and if she was going to start taking charge of her life then this could be a baby step.

  She could have Raf for a whole month.

  “Pop won’t be happy but I reckon I can convince him so…yes.”

  “Atta girl,” Zel said, smiling and raising her drink. The others followed suit. “Here’s to well hung men who are good with their hands.”

  Faith laughed. “I’ll drink to that.”

  Chapter Four

  ‡

  “Morning Pop,” Faith said the next day as her father shuffled into the kitchen around eight thirty. He was dressed for the day but Faith was still in her pajamas and fluffy slippers and on her third cup of coffee as she sat at the table sketching her umpteenth version of Raf’s hands.

  Hands she was hoping he’d be putting on her very soon.

  She shut her sketch pad as she examined her father’s face for signs that he’d had a good night. He was a good color, walking easily, and looked alert as he gave her one of his I’m-all-good smiles.

  Even so, his hair was white, his wrinkles were crevasses and he had a slight stoop that worsened as the day progressed. Forty-odd years of heavy smoking had not been kind. He’d given up after mom’s death but the damage to his heart was already done.

  He sat in his usual chair. “Want some tea?”

  “When have I ever said no to tea?” he asked with a grin, falling into their usual morning patter.

  Faith headed to the kettle as her father opened the New York Post that had been delivered every morning for as long as she could remember. She teased him that he could read it online these days but he insisted he liked the newsprint blackening his fingerprints.

  He always read the sports section first and she heard him groan and mumble something about the Knicks as she fixed his heart healthy breakfast. He’d fought her on that one until just after his second heart attack four months after his first.

  A bowl of granola, some naturally sweetened Greek yogurt and two slices of multigrain toast to accompany a handful of pills. He grumbled occasionally but he ate it.

  Her brothers complained that she coddled him but Faith didn’t mind fussing over him. Her mother had started the tradition and with a fifteen year age difference Pop had been old-fashioned enough to let her. And more than happy for Faith to continue after his first heart attack.

  She set it down in front of him ten minutes later then fixed herself some toast with peanut butter and jelly. She sat and watched him over the rim of her mug. Now was as good a time as any to broach the subject of Baron lager.

  She chewed on the inside of her lip as she came up with a dozen different ways to raise the subject. In the end she figured he’d just appreciate her telling it like it was. “I’m putting a new beer on tap.”

  Her father’s head snapped up. “You are?” His eyes narrowed a little. “What kind of beer?”

  “A lager,” she said evasively knowing her father was as fond of them as she was.

  “We don’t need another lager.”

  “I’ll swap one out,” she said. “It’s just a trial. For a month.”

  His brow wrinkled. “Have you been listening to some salesman? I told you to never let them through the door.”

  “No. It was a…favor for Mercy.” Faith knew how much her father adored Mercy – mostly because she flirted with him outrageously – and she wasn’t above exploiting that. “A friend of hers is trying to launch into the US pub market.”

  He frowned. “It’s not an American beer?”

  Faith shook her head. “No.”

  His frown deepened. “They make beer in Argentina?”

  “No. Well…maybe…I’m not sure. It’s an Australian beer.”

  “You want me to serve an Australian beer?”

  Her father’s emphasis made it sound like the Australians had tried to invade the freaking country or something. “It’s just a month, Pop.”

  “People don’t come to Sully’s to drink Australian beer, Faith.”

  True. Their customers liked the familiar offerings at Sully’s. “Just as well there are nine other tap beers for them to choose from then,” she said. “It’s not like I’m going to swap out a Guinness.”

  Her father shot her a horrified look like she’d suggested it was about time they took down President Kennedy’s portrait above the fireplace. “What’s he like, this friend of hers?”

  He’s tall and broad and blonde and apparently very well hung. So not what her father wanted to know.

  Christ, Pop probably thought she was a virgin too!

  “His name is Rafael Quartermaine and he has a very successful micro-brewery business in Australia and New Zealand.”

  “You met with him?”

  Faith glanced up at the slight accusation in the statement. He didn’t have to say the words, she knew what he was thinking. Why wasn’t I there?

  Faith held his gaze. She made a million decisions every freaking day without consulting him. “Yes.”

  “I see.”

  Normally Faith wouldn’t let the disapproval in his voice get to her because she tried not to create any stress but she was turning over a new leaf, right? “Am I your partner in this, Pop, or am I just some glorified barmaid to you?” she demanded.

  Her father looked taken aback. “Faith? Is everything okay?”

  Faith dragged in a couple of frustrated breaths. No, everything was not okay! All her friends were falling in love and starting new chapters in their lives and she was still in Brooklyn, stuck in a rut doing all the day-to-day running of the pub with, apparently, none of the power. And there was a man who wanted to go out to dinner with her and possibly a whole lot more if she wasn’t very much mistaken and she desperately wanted him – needed him – to rock her world.

  The lines on her father’s face got a whole lot deeper as he looked at her, clearly worried. Faith sighed. None of this was his fault. It had been her decision to follow this route. To let the pub take over her life. To care for her father.

  “It’s fine Pop,” she assured dredging up a smile. “Just let me do this okay? It’s the best lager I’ve ever tasted and I think we should get on board.”

  He was obviously encouraged by her smile but she could still see the worried look in his eyes. That look had been a permanent fixture during her mother’s short-lived battle with ovarian cancer.

  “Okay. If it means that much to you.” He reached out a gnarly hand and patted her on the arm. “Our tap lagers are shite anyway so it’s no great loss.”

  She laughed. Pop still had a way of making her laugh. “I’ll introduce you to Raf when he drops by next.”

  Faith’s heart gave a funny little giddy-up at the thought of him being here for the next month. Just to be able to feast her eyes on him elevated her blood pressure.

  And her hormones.

  *

  Raf was eating the best eggs in the universe at a diner near the hotel when his phone beeped to indicate a text. He navig
ated to the screen. He didn’t recognize the number but he had been giving his card out to a lot of business contacts the last few days. He tapped on the screen to open the message.

  Yes.

  Raf stared at the text, his pulse picking up a little. Surely no business contact would leave any kind of message without first indicating who they were. So it was either someone sending it to him accidentally or maybe, just maybe, it was Faith.

  And if so what exactly was she agreeing to?

  There was only one way to find out. He tapped out a quick reply. To the beer thing or the date?

  If he was wrong he was going to look like a fool but if he was right…this day was getting off to a great start.

  A rapid reply flashed onto his screen in a blue speech bubble. Both.

  He grinned triumphantly and hit the call button. His smile got bigger when Faith’s husky voice answered on the second ring. “Good morning,” he said.

  “Is it?”

  He laughed, her casual inquiry not fooling him. Not when it had been delivered with such breathy undertones. “It is. You just made my day.”

  There was a pause. “Because of the beer thing or the date?”

  He smiled. “Both.”

  “What can I say? You give good pitch.”

  Raf smiled. “It’s not the only thing I give good.”

  There was another pause and he pictured her in her jeans and t-shirt blushing at the phone. “Well…that’s good to know.”

  Her breathy reply hummed into his ear, the vibration heading directly south settling in his crotch, buzzing all his hot spots in between.

  “When did you want to start the trial?”

  Raf smiled at her attempt to get things back on track.

  “I’ll ring my distributor now and let you know but it’ll probably be Monday.”

  “That works for me. So I’ll…see you then?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry but I’m about to head to the airport.” He cursed the timing. If he could he would have caught a cab over to Sully’s and whisked her away on that date right now. “I’m off to Vegas for the weekend.”

  “Nice.”

  Raf couldn’t decide if nice just meant nice or something else. It didn’t sound pissy but there was an edge to it.