Pursued by the Rogue (The Fairy Tales of New York Book 1) Read Free Page A

Sullivan’s cap sitting jauntily on her head. He’d given it to her between the sets of Irish folk music he’d played with his brothers. Told her she was a pretty girl.
    She’d been so starved for love and attention back then.
    So very enamored of Faith’s fun-loving brother whose passion for music had poured from his fingertips.
    So here she was, ten years later, heading back to that place with mixed feelings. Surely he wouldn’t be there.
    Finbar Sullivan was probably somewhere in Europe right this minute, mesmerizing crowds with the music he coaxed from his ten million dollar violin.
    He’d become a concert violinist at some point during these past ten years. A composer, a recording artist, a star of the classical music world – all of those things. Chances of finding him at the pub tonight were slim.
    Which was why Dawn had cancelled all her afternoon meetings in order to stand in front of her cupboard in the hope of figuring out what to wear to a reunion with old friends, and possibly, maybe, but probably not Finn.
    Who was probably in Berlin, playing with the Philharmonic there this evening.
    Or something.
    In the end, she’d chosen to wear comfortable jeans, a forest-green silk camisole and a dusky pink jacket that fell to mid-thigh. She’d been to an upmarket hair care salon in an attempt to make her blonde hair fall sleek and straight to frame a face that hadn’t grown prettier with age, even if she now had a much better clue when it came to making the best of it.
    She looked as good as she was ever going to look and it still wasn’t enough to satisfy the insecurity gnawing at her belly. Because apart from the ghost of her first lover to contend with, she was also catching up with Faith for the first time in years.
    Dawn hadn’t had much to do with Faith after the incident with the altar wine all those years ago. She’d blamed it on her punishments, on her study load, on them being relegated to different dorm rooms and on Mercy and Zel being gone. Anything but the truth.
    Truth was, Dawn hadn’t been able be around Faith and not think of Finn and guilt and loss. She hadn’t had the emotional strength for it back then. Even now, her emotions felt stretched thin.
    She’d cut Faith out of her life completely, and Faith – who’d once been as close as a sister – had thought it was because of the altar wine incident.
    Dawn had a lot of making up to do if she wanted Faith Sullivan to call her a friend again.
    The cab pulled up in front of Sully’s all too soon and Zel paid the fare as they all piled out.
    Trying desperately not to chew on her lip and ruin her understated lipstick, Dawn followed the others into the pub’s gaping maw.
    It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimly lit interior.
    And during that time she knew without seeing that Finbar Sullivan wasn’t performing on the world stage this evening.
    He was right here.
    She knew it by the prickle of awareness that burrowed beneath her skin and nested low in her belly. A sixth sense that she couldn’t explain and barely believed in. And then she saw him, and it was as if her world narrowed down to the head of a pin and there was nothing else in it but for a pair of shamrock-green eyes focused utterly on her. There was a body to go with it, long and lean. A mess of shaggy dark hair. A wave of feeling big enough to drown in.
    Heartbreak and regret. Longing and insecurity.
    Need.
    Oh, the need to simply reach out and touch him was still there in spades as Finn focused on her lips for a fraction longer than was polite. And then he blinked, and ruefully shook his head as his gaze reconnected with hers.
    She wondered what he saw. If he still thought her pretty or whether the years had put paid to that crazy notion altogether.
    In the end it was Dawn who dragged her gaze away from his in order to greet a smiling Faith. In the end it was Faith with her wild brown curls, who threw her arms around Dawn and held on tight.
    “Hey, you,”