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"No." Deliberately, Emma unlaced her hands and relaxed her shoulders.
She was grateful for the low lighting so that Drew couldn't see her
nerves-or Sweeney, smoking lazily a few tables over. "I've never been
here before. I like it."
"Well, it can't be what you're used to, but most of the other places,
it's hard to talk or to be alone. I wanted to do both with you."
Her fingers knotted together again. "I didn't have a chance to tell you
how good you were tonight. You'll be looking for your own opening act
soon."
"Thanks. That means a lot." He laid a hand on hers, gently stroking
his thumb over her knuckles. "We were a little stiff on the opening
set, but we'll loosen up."
"How long have you been playing?"
"Since I was ten. I guess I can thank your father."
"Oh? Why?"
"I had a cousin, he did some road work for Devastation when I was a kid
and snuck me into a concert. Brian McAvoy. He just blew me away. As
soon as I could save up, I bought a secondhand guitar." He grinned. Her
hand was firmly lodged in his now. "The rest is history."
"I've never heard that story."
"I guess I've never told anyone else." He shrugged restlessly. "It's a
little embarra.s.sing."
"No." Enchanted, she moved closer to him. "It's touching, That's just
the kind of story that endears someone like you to fans."
He looked at her, his eyes dark gold in the dim light. "I'm not
thinking about fans right now. Emma-"
"Would you like a drink?"
Emma tore her gaze away from Drew's to blink at the c.o.c.ktail waitress.
"Oh, a mineral water."
Drew's brow lifted, but he didn't comment. "Guinness." He continued to
look at Emma, continued to toy with her fingers. "You must have heard
your fill about musicians," he murmured. "I'd rather hear about you."
"There's not that much to tell."
"I think you're wrong. I want to know everything there is to know about
Emma McAvoy." He lifted her hand to his lips. "Everything."
She spent the evening in a haze, with the sultry music the perfect
backdrop. He seemed to hang on her every word. And touching, always
touching her-his hand on hers, or brus.h.i.+ng through her hair, skimming
along her arm. They never moved from their shadowy corner, never
glanced at the other couples huddled at tables.
They left the club to walk along the Thames in the breezy moonlight. It
was late, much too late, but it didn't seem to matter what time it was.
She could smell the river, and the cool spring flowers. Emma thought of
gallant knights when Drew stripped off his jacket and spread it over her
shoulders.
"Are you cold?"
"No." She drew in a deep breath and shook her head. "It feels
wonderful. I never remember, until I come back, how much I love
London."
"I've lived here all my life." Walking slowly, he watched the starlight
