Free The Baron by Sally Goldenbaum Page A

room in the stable. Do you mind, Nick?”
    “Certainly not.”
    In seconds he had Archie to his feet and had hoisted a limp arm around his own shoulder, the other around Halley’s. “Most interesting Monday I’ve spent in some time,” he said as they made their way along the path.
    “This isn’t how barons usually start their week?” Halley nudged Archie to take another step.
    “Ah, it’s confession time, Contessa …”
    “You’re really a library inspector of some sort, and we’re about to lose our status.”
    Nick grinned. “That’s not exactly what I’ve come to inspect.”
    “I, sir, am a gentleman bum,” Archie interjected with a crooked grin, his words slurring together. “Try it, you’ll like it.”
    “From baron to bum. Hmm, it has possibilities, especially if it means having the Contessa so close.”
    “Contesh …?” Archie tried to hold his head straight.
    “Ms. Finnegan.”
    “Finnegan. Ah, she’s a queen, a woman of beauty, a—”
    “Hush, Archie. You’re drunk.”
    “Merely tipsy, my lovely.…”
    “He makes sense to me.” Nick pushed open the stable door with his hip and helped Archie through. “Where to?”
    “The back room. There’s a cot there,” Halley directed, and in minutes Nick had the hobo situated in the small room that was filled with colorful children’s drawings, a small table and chair, and a cot.
    “Home shweet home.” Archie sank back on the cot, and his eyelids lowered immediately.
    Halley took Nick’s arm and drew him out of the room and back outdoors. “Thanks.”
    “My pleasure.” He looked down at Halley.
She
was his pleasure, a
great
pleasure, and he set his jaw, fighting the urge to wrap her in his arms. “Who
is
he?”
    “He’s Archie, that’s all. Friend, hobo, teacher of life.” She smiled softly. “He likes it here, and we’ve become attached to him. So he stays. He spends a lot of time in the gazebo holding court with the kids. But every now and then—”
    “I see.” Nick shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his tailored pants and fell in step beside her asthey walked slowly back to the library. “And the little boy?”
    “My sister Bridget’s son. He and Archie are good buddies.”
    “And last but not least …”
    “Whisper Cloud is an Indian girl buried in the cemetery. Archie weaves tales about her and her tribe for the kids.” She laughed and tilted her head back to let the late-afternoon sun warm her face. “All of us have gotten attached to Whisper Cloud.…”
    Nick didn’t hear the last sentence. When she tilted her head back like that and he fell into the clear, green sea of her eyes, all resolve melted. He touched the back of her neck and lifted his fingers into her hair. “Oh, Tessa—”
    “
Halley
, Nick. You’re confusing—”
    But all confusion was blotted out when his lips covered hers, softly at first, then with a crush of familiarity. He’d know his Contessa blindfolded, Nick thought vaguely. No one else in the universe could taste this sweet, feel this soft and tender beneath his touch. His kiss turned greedy, and his tongue slipped between her lips.
His
Contessa … yes, it made an irrational kind of sense.…
    It was Halley who finally pulled away. “You don’t step out of character easily, do you, Nicholas the third?”
    “And you fall into it quite readily, Contessa.”
    Halley nodded, and a small smile touched her lips. “I guess I do. But I know deep down that Irish librarians make terrible contessas in real life. Do you know that?”
    Nick couldn’t imagine her ever backing away from the truth. Not with those eyes. He nodded slowly. “Contessas are a dime a dozen, but Irish librarians—now there’s a find.”
    “Who are
you
, anyway?” Halley asked. Nick’s arm had gone around her, and they started to walk again,their hips gently touching as they moved along the leaf-covered path.
    “Nicholas Harrington, Philadelphia—”
    “Main Line.”
    “Sh. You asked the