Free A Change of Heart (The Heartfelt Series) by Adrienne Vaughan Page A

A quick phone call, slight diversion and here I am,” Dermot laid his cup back in the saucer. The crockery looked like a toy tea-set beside his huge hands. Marianne sipped her coffee.
     “A happy coincidence then,” she smiled back at one of Ryan’s oldest friends. “How long have you known about the lifeboat station?”
     “Not long. If I’m honest I kind of manipulated the appointment. I fancied a change of scene and you guys seemed so taken with the island and your life there, I thought, what harm, could be a fresh start?” he said.
     “I thought you were happy in Dublin, in the guards,” she said.
     “I am, was. But I’ve been in the job a long time. Very stressful, and you and Ryan seemed so, well together. I thought, do you know what Dermot, maybe it’s not too late for you after all, maybe there’s a happy ever after for me too,” he gave her a half-grin.
     Marianne touched the large, calloused fingers.
     “No-one special in your life?” she asked, gently.
     “There was,” Dermot tapped the table, “complicated, wasn’t to be, you know how it is.” He looked away, nodding at the babies dozing in the buggy beside them. “Little pets, God bless them,” he whispered, “Will Ryan be gone long?” he asked, looking towards the doors they had watched Ryan pass through, waving a hurried goodbye, bemused by his friend’s appearance but seemingly happy to leave all he loved standing at his side.
     “Take care of my gang till I get back then.” Ryan’s parting shot as he kissed them all farewell, including Dermot. He was an actor, after all.
     “As long as it takes,” Marianne replied.
     “Trouble?” Dermot asked. Marianne was not sure how much Dermot knew about Ryan’s situation, or how much Ryan would want him to know.
     “Just business,” she answered brightly, gathering the wherewithal to get the show on the road. “Would you like a lift? I need to catch the next ferry. I know they would come for us if we were stranded, but I don’t want to use all our favours up too quickly.”
     “Right with you,” said Dermot, tucking Monty under his arm as they left the airport’s small cafe and headed out to the windswept car park.
    Marianne strapped the youngsters into their seats. Dermot checked his phone.
      Clocked and following. The text read. The weather was coming in as they drove carefully away.

 
    Chapter Seven The Big Apple
    Franco Rossini loved New York City. His visits were rare these days, obliged to spend too much time in Los Angeles. He waved the two men away, crossing the little bridge to his favourite bench. It looked down into a small arbour of trees and bushes, beautiful at any time of year but never more stunning than now, as the burnt copper and ruby reds of autumn swayed softly in the breeze, clinging hopefully to each branch before a final, fluttering farewell gave way to the inevitable arrival of winter.
     He sat down wearily on the bench, splaying his arms along the back of the seat. He crossed his legs at the ankles, briefly admiring the fine Italian shoes and English silk socks. He let his head fall back, eyes open, relishing the cocoon of towering New York buildings peering over the edge of the park, framing the precious oasis, the whole scene domed in a cobalt, cloudless sky. Franco sighed. The hum of downtown Manhattan just yards away, a world away. This was the stillest and happiest he had been for some time. A good place to be, at the heart of his home.
     As if he just remembered something, he felt inside his jacket and took out a delicate, pearlescent box. He flipped it open, popped a small pill under his tongue, closed the box and slipped it back in his pocket. He heard footsteps. The man he was waiting to meet was striding purposefully towards him. Dark aviator glasses, battered leather jacket with the collar turned up, faded jeans, worn deck shoes. Franco sighed. He did wish one of his most high-profile stars would make more of an effort in the