“Lennie goes to FIT,” Sebastian explained.
His friends stared at him blankly.
“Fashion Institute of Technology?” Sebastian tried. He was mystified. They’d all been living in the city for years; how could they not know this? Then again, the school did have to do with fashion and design, so why would they?
“Cool,” said Eric, jerking a thumb in Jason’s direction. “Maybe you could design my brother here some decent clothes.”
Lennie smiled. “He seems pretty well dressed to me.” Her shyness started to fade as she began talking to them about hockey, explaining to them about coming from “the frozen North,” and how she’d actually played pick-up games at the Olympic rink at Lake Placid. “Well, you gotta come see your boyfriend play,” said Thad. “He’s been on fire.”
Lennie looked up at him proudly. “Just tell me when, and I’ll be there.”
“Deal,” said Sebastian.
Lennie looked mildly despondent as she tilted her head in the direction of the bar. “I really should go,” she said to Sebastian quietly, squeezing his arm. She turned back to his teammates. “It was great meeting you guys.”
“You too,” they all chimed.
He accompanied her back to the bar.
“Ah, the lovebirds,” said Lennie’s aunt.
“Please don’t,” said Lennie. She took both Sebastian’s hands in hers. “Sorry I’ve been MIA.”
“What is—”
“Missing in action. I’ve been busting my ass working on some designs for the O’Briens’ daughter Sinead that I wanted to run by Christie. If Sinead likes them, I might actually get to measure her and make them for her. My first paying customer!”
“That’s great.”
“Your teammates seem like good guys.”
Sebastian glanced back at the table. “They are.”
“Can I come to one of your games?” she asked shyly.
“I’m surprised you even ask. Of course.”
“I had an idea for something we could do Sunday, if you’re free.”
“I have practice in the morning, but after that, nothing.”
Because I’m keeping the weekend open for you.
“We could walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. There are supposed to be beautiful views, especially if you go at sunset, and then turn around and walk back to Manhattan at night.”
“I would like that very much.” He pictured them slowly walking hand in hand, talking and laughing. How could something so simple produce such happiness in him? Either he was a simpleton, or he was falling hard and fast.
Lennie’s face lit up. “Good.”
“Call me with the time you think we should go, and I will come by your apartment to pick you up.”
“Can’t wait!” She rose on her tiptoes and bit the tip of his nose. “Go back to your buds.”
“Go show your friend your designs. And then get some sleep. You look weary.”
“I’ll try.”
He gave her a quick kiss and walked back to his teammates, smiling. Life was very, very good.
Seven
Lennie was still flying high as she unloaded piping-hot cartons of Chinese food on Sebastian’s coffee table. They’d taken their time crossing the Brooklyn Bridge, strolling hand in hand, pausing now and then to take in the views. The view of lower Manhattan was breathtaking, as was the sight of the Statue of Liberty. They could even see the Empire State Building! By the time they got to the other side, night had fallen. They lingered in Brooklyn for about half an hour, then started back. Manhattan, all lit up at night, was like an urban fairyland, breathtaking and magical. Back in the city Sebastian suggested they get Chinese takeout. One of his teammates had recommended a place not far from where he lived, and he wanted to check it out. He’d had what was called “American Chinese food” in Moscow, and was eager to try the real, authentic thing.
Lennie pulled two pairs of chopsticks from the bottom of one of the bags. “Have you ever used these before?”
“No.”
“Me either. Want to try?”
“No.”
She laughed at his bluntness. You could never accuse Sebastian of being indecisive or indirect, that was for sure.
She’d deliberately worn the faux leopard coat she’d bought at the flea market, just so he could see how she’d tailored it into something smart and chic. He reluctantly admitted that the coat looked much different than the last time he’d seen it. Even so, he reiterated that he would never buy used clothing in a million years.
Sebastian leaned over, peering into the steaming cartons. “Fried dumplings. Egg rolls. General Tso’s chicken. Moo shoo pork. Sesame chicken.”
“That’s a lot of food.”
“Don’t worry,” he assured her. “You’re eating with me. It will all be gone.”
The food was delicious. Sebastian, especially, seemed to take great pleasure in it. “This is nothing like the Chinese food I had in Russia,” he told her. “Chicken chow mein . . . awful.” He shook his head in wonder. “It’s amazing how many types of food you can get here. I want to try them all: Indian, French, Italian, you name it. I’ve already had the Irish food at the Wild Hart, and it’s very, very good.” He licked Sichuan sauce off his fingers. “Hey,” he said suddenly. “Would you like to try some Russian food?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll take you to Brighton Beach. It’s nicknamed Little Odessa, because there are so many Russian immigrants there. You can meet my uncle Yuri. He’s lived there for twenty years. He’s a very good cook.”
“I would love that,” Lennie said softly, moved by his invitation. He’d talked to her a lot about his uncle, the only relative he had in the States. The fact he wanted her to meet him . . .
We’re not just casually dating,
she thought happily.
I mean something to him.
This was proof positive.
Despite
Sebastian’s boast that he’d finish all the food, there were leftovers, though not many. They packed up the food, and as he loaded it into the refrigerator, Lennie went to the sink to wash their dishes. She needed something to do, even if it was only for a few minutes. Now that dinner was over, all she could think about was the “savoring” she hoped was to come.
Sebastian came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I have a dishwasher, you know.”
“It’s not a big deal, Seb. It’s only two plates, the glasses, and the cutlery.”
He nuzzled her hair, inhaling deeply. “You smell nice.”
Lennie closed her eyes, rinsed the last plate, wiped her hands off, and turned in his arms. “Today was great,” she said with a contented sigh.
“I agree.”
He came a fraction of an inch closer, his gaze pinning hers. Lennie felt herself weakening. His mouth was so close . . . she wanted to grab his face and kiss him so hard he would be stunned to the point of vertigo. She could see by the way he was looking at her that desire was rapidly building within him, too, but she waited for him to make the first move, seconds stretching out like years.
Her patience was rewarded when he cupped the back of her neck and hungrily crushed his mouth to hers. There was no hesitation: she gave in to it fully, lust burning through her as the kiss kept deepening, her body completely submissive to her mind.
Sebastian gripped the counter as if needing to steady himself as Lennie twined her arms around his neck. His eyes were dark, commanding. He remained like that for a moment before grabbing her back in his arms, holding her to him so tightly she couldn’t tell whose heart was pounding faster, hers or his. One of his hands grabbed her hair, fisted there, then pulled back so that her throat was revealed to him. That was when delirium came, as his teeth nipped at her soft skin.
The kitchen counter was hard against her back, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was that he kept going. Lennie momentarily took command, dragging his mouth back up to hers. Sebastian groaned with pleasure. Taking her hands from his neck, she put them on his hips, pulling him closer. Heat and friction—that was all that mattered. Heat and friction and giving herself over completely to the madness of the moment. She could have him right now, if she wanted. It would be so easy.
And yet, much to her surprise, she found herself wanting to savor.
She reluctantly tore her mouth from his, looking up into those dark brown eyes that could so easily dissuade her from what she was about to do.
“This isn’t the right time,” she told him shakily. “I want—I want it to be—”
“More romantic?”
“Yes.”
She held her breath a moment, afraid he might get angry. But he didn’t. In fact, he looked amused.
“What?” she asked. “What’s so funny?”
“You were the one who was aggressive just a few weeks ago. Now you’re the one holding back!”
“I know. You must think I’m really messed up,” she mumbled. She’d wanted to say “fucked-up,” but for some reason, she was afraid he might think she was crude. He was so traditional—such a gentleman—she didn’t want him thinking less of her in any way.
“No, I don’t think you’re ‘messed up,’ as you say. Confused? Now that’s a different story. But not messed up.”
She could feel his hardness against her slowly waning. “Are you sure you’re not mad?” she asked uncertainly.
“Not mad,” he insisted.
“Disappointed,” she supplied.
“Of course. I mean, here you are, in my arms, so beautiful . . .” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “But I want you to be happy. I want you to feel it’s the right time.”
“I want to savor,” Lennie whispered.
Sebastian grinned. “Our code word.”
“Yes.”
“It’s late. I should see you home.”
“Sebastian, I can get home by myself. On the subway.”
Sebastian shook his head. “No. A gentleman always sees his lady home.”
“I see.” Lennie was charmed. “Well, then, ‘Lead on, MacDuff.’ It’s a line from Shakespeare,” she added when he looked baffled.
“Ah. You’re so knowledgeable about so many things.”
“No, I just paid attention in high school English class.” She tugged his sleeve. “C’mon, Romeo.”
“More Shakespeare! That much I know.”
Lennie laughed. “Would you prefer I come up with some Chek hov next time?”
“Hmm, let me think about it. I might prefer Dostoyevsky.”
“You can teach some to Rudy.”
“I hear you are almost done with his sailor cap,” said Sebastian, looking like he was trying not to laugh.
“God, I should get an award for that. You can’t imagine how hard it is sewing things that tiny. I’m going blind.”
“You’re a good niece.”
“I’m a pushover.”
Sebastian extended a hand. “Come. Let’s get you home so you can get a decent night’s sleep.”
Lennie’s heart swelled with tenderness.
No one has ever cared about me this way. No man has ever stolen into my heart so quickly and so fully. And I wasn’t even looking for it.
It amazed her.
She took the hand of the man she intended to savor, and followed him out into the night.
Lennie
tried not to fidget as she sat in the massive, quiet, climate-controlled reception area of one of New York’s top law firms, Callahan, Epps, and Kaplan, where Sinead O’Brien was a junior partner. In a fit of inspiration over the past week and a half, she had sketched three different designs she thought Sinead might like. Her first instinct had been to try to catch Sinead at the Wild Hart, but then she decided that since Sinead had given her her business card, it would look much more professional for her to call. She was thrilled when Sinead told her to come in early Thursday morning to show her the designs.
Lennie smiled politely when Sinead’s sharply dressed, whip-thin assistant, Simone, appeared and asked her if she wanted any coffee or tea while she waited. Lennie declined; she was wired enough as it was. Caffeine would have her bouncing off the ceiling and talking a mile a minute, which was the last thing she wanted. It was one thing to be creative, but she didn’t want to come across as crazy as well.
A few minutes later, Sinead appeared in a gorgeous, navy blue business suit, looking pleased.
“I’m so glad you could come,” she said, extending a perfectly manicured hand to Lennie. Everything about her was flawless and professional: her clothing, her hair, her makeup, her demeanor. Lennie supposed it had to be. “I’m really excited about seeing what you’ve come up with. That was fast!”
“I was inspired,” said Lenny, hoping she didn’t sound like an idiot.
“C’mon, I’ll take you down to my office.”
Lennie dutifully followed Sinead down the quiet, carpeted hallway. Lennie liked quiet; she loved sketching in silence, the only sound that of her pencil scratching against her drawing paper.
To say Sinead’s office was impressive was an understatement. There was a huge teak desk in the center of the room, behind which was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf the length of the wall, filled with lawbooks. Two other walls were of floor-to-ceiling glass, allowing amazing views of New York. There was also a gorgeous burgundy velvet couch, flanked by end tables atop which sat pictures of Sinead’s family. Lennie liked the office’s cozy feel. She felt like she was in a private library at an English manor house.