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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.

Thirteen

Pia 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.

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