"Walking sounds fine," she assured him. "I'm used to wearing high heels all day at work."
"You look good in them." Bastien glanced down her short black cocktail dress to her legs in their sexy black nylons and high-heeled strapped sandals. Terri looked lovely, and somehow incredibly sexy despite the fact that the dress she wore wasn't the least bit revealing. It was sleeveless and short, but not indecently so, stopping just above the knee. And while it had a V-neckline, it wasn't cut so low as to reveal more than a hint of cleavage.
They chatted about the play as they left the theater, discussing the scenery, the costumes, and the music. Conversation became more restrained once they reached the restaurant. They were shown to their table at once and offered menus. Terri's menu had no prices on it, while his did, and he grinned at her vexation over that fact. She would not be paying for this meal no matter what. Her pride would have to take a backseat this evening. He wanted to treat her as she deserved: to be wined and dined and waited on like a princess.
The food was delicious and the service exceptional, but about halfway through the meal, Bastien began to wish he'd taken Terri someplace a little less formal. The hushed, monied atmosphere was a bit constraining, making them both less talkative. Bastien missed Terri's enthusiasm and the tinkle of her laughter, for she had it well leashed.
The moment she was finished eating, he suggested they walk up the street to another place he knew for their after-dinner drink. The alacrity with which she agreed told him that while Terri had found the restaurant enjoyable, she too would prefer an atmosphere more conducive to their talking. Bastien suspected that trying to behave in such a subdued manner was killing her.
They walked the short block to Maison, a restaurant/bar he knew had an atmosphere that would allow them to talk more comfortably. The patio was open and filled with people enjoying the unseasonably warm night air, and Bastien was pleased when she suggested they sit outside.
Their conversation returned to the play, and Terri's enjoyment of it was so obvious that Bastien decided they should perhaps go to a couple more while she was in town. That thought reminded him that she would eventually leave to fly home to England, an idea that he found made him grimace with displeasure. He was enjoying her company and the escape from a life that, until now, had seemed just fine—but in retrospect it seemed dull and bleak with its focus on business and little else.
How had he lived such an empty existence for so long when there was so much pleasure to be had in life?
Chapter Eight
Pausing in the middle of recounting a tale about Kate and herself when they were teenagers, Terri glanced to the side with a start as she heard a customer ask the waitress what time it was, and the waitress's answer.
"Did she just say it was four-twelve?" she asked, forgetting all about the tale she'd been telling.
"Did she? No, she couldn't have. You must have misheard. It can't be that late alread—it is!" Bastien exclaimed with surprise as he glanced at his watch. He lifted a stunned expression to hers, and they stared at each other for a moment then burst out laughing.
"I guess we lost track of time talking," Terri said with a grin.
"I guess we did," he agreed. "But, then, we tend to like to do that a lot. Talk, I mean. I like talking to you."
"I like talking to you, too," she admitted, then glanced away, looking for a distraction from the wealth of feeling welling up inside her. Maison's patio wasn't as busy as it had been, but there were still half a dozen tables with customers. "I wonder why they haven't closed yet. I thought bars closed around four a.m. over here."
"I'm not sure," Bastien began, then said, "Oh. They're open twenty-four hours."
When Terri glanced back at him in question, he gestured to the writing on the awning. She smiled wryly and nodded. "I didn't notice that."
"Neither did I."
They fell silent for a moment, and Terri realized that it had grown cooler in the passing hours since they'd arrived. There was a bit of a chill in the air—not much, but enough that she felt it on her sleeveless arms.
"You're getting cold," Bastien noted when she unconsciously rubbed her arms. "I suppose we should head home."
"Yes," she agreed, but felt sad that the night was drawing to an end. Terri wouldn't have minded had it gone on forever.
Bastien stood and drew out her chair for her as she rose, then slid his suit jacket off and held it open for her. "Here, put this on. It's pretty quiet on this street, and with it being so late we'll probably have to walk up a block or so to find a taxi. Will you be all right to walk a little way in those shoes?"
"Yes, of course," Terri assured him as she slid her arms into the offered jacket. She'd been sitting for hours, and she hadn't drunk much despite the length of time they'd been there. Neither of them had; they'd been too busy talking. She paused with the suit coat halfway up her arms. "Will you be all right? You don't need this?"
"No. I'm fine," he assured her, urging the jacket up the rest of the way.
"Mmm." Terri pulled the silk material closed and hugged it to herself with a smile of pleasure. "It's warm and lovely, and it smells of you."
"Does it?" he asked with a small smile. "Is that a good thing?"
"Mmmm." She raised one lapel, turned her head to bury her nose in the material, and inhaled deeply. "Yes,
very
good. I like your cologne," Terri admitted, as she breathed in the scent of him again with pleasure.
"You don't bother with subterfuge at all, do you?"
Terri lifted her head to peer at him. "Subterfuge?"
The waitress came up to the table before he could reply. The girl thanked them and wished them both a good night as she took the money Bastien left on the table. They responded in kind, then Bastien took Terri's arm to usher her to the opening in the gate surrounding the outdoor patio. He walked her out, keeping his hand at her elbow as they started up the street.
His courtesy was one of the things Terri liked best about Bastien. The way he opened doors for her, always allowing her to enter first. His concern for her comfort and well-being, making sure she wasn't cold, or warm, or that her feet were holding up all right. She even liked the way he asked what she wanted, then placed her order for her. There were few men who would even think to do something so rich with old-world courtesy, and many women who would have perhaps been offended; but it didn't offend Terri. It made her feel special and coddled. She felt cared for. Many of the courtesies he indulged in made her feel like that. She could get used to such treatment.
Troubled by the thought, Terri glanced up at the buildings that rose like mountains around them against the lightening sky. "It's lovely here."
"Yes, it is nice." Bastien sounded surprised as he followed her gaze around their surroundings. "I've been here countless times on business, and never really paid attention."
Terri nodded, unsurprised. Most people became blind to their environment, no matter how glorious, and never gave it a second thought. "What did you mean when you said I don't bother with subterfuge?"
Bastien was silent for a moment as they walked; then he said, "Many women wouldn't have admitted to liking my cologne, let alone shown such pleasure in it. They would have been too busy playing it cool and acting unaffected. But you don't seem to have a subtle bone in your body, and don't bother with such games."
"Games are for children," she murmured. She glanced at him in surprise when he burst out laughing. "What?"
"You don't seem to mind acting like a child any other time. I've never seen anyone act more childlike than you at the museum," he explained as she flushed. With a laugh, he added, "And shopping, and at the flea markets, and at the street fairs."
"Sorry," Terri apologized automatically.
"Don't be. It's one of the things I like best about you."
"Good. Because I'm not
really
sorry," she admitted with a grin.
Bastien chuckled and urged her to cross the street. "This is the Hilton," he explained as they walked along the building that took up most of that side. "There should be a row of taxis in front. There usually are."
"Is it far back to the penthouse?" Terri asked. It hadn't seemed like a long taxi ride to get to the theater.
"About four blocks from here," Bastien guessed.
"Why waste money on a cab? We can walk."
"Really?"
She shook her head at his surprise, wondering if he usually dated decrepit biddies who couldn't walk any distance at all. "I think you've just insulted me," Terri said, pausing to face him as they reached the corner of the hotel. "I walked around all weekend with you, and spent at least four hours walking around the museum, and another three following you on your shopping spree today. Do you really think I can't manage four blocks?"
"No. Of course not," he said, and his voice was soft with an admiration that almost embarrassed her. The way Bastien was looking at her made her positive that he was about to kiss her.
"Good," she said promptly to break the mood. "I need to sit down."
Whirling away, Terri walked under the carport, crossing the Hilton's driveway to the black marble base that surrounded the pillars fronting the street. She had meant to sit down and tighten the strap on her right shoe that seemed to have loosened throughout the night, but someone had either sprayed the marble to clean away the pollution and dirt, or splashed it unintentionally while watering the plants at either end. The wide black marble end, which had appeared so handy for sitting on, was wet. The only section that was dry, was the narrow, almost balance-beam-sized strip of marble that ran to the next wider section around the next pillar. Deciding it would have to do, Terri perched carefully on the slippery, slender rounded surface to work on her shoe.
Bastien joined her after a moment, but he sat astride the narrow marble piece, so that he was facing her side. "You had me worried when you said you had to sit down."
"This strap came undone at some point," she explained. She finished doing it back up, then Terri straightened to smile at him. "I should be all right now."
"You're more than all right," he assured her, and just as he had done at the museum, Bastien caught her face in his hands and pulled her forward for a kiss.
After the briefest of hesitations, Terri went willingly, her mouth softly parting under his, then widening farther on a cry of surprise. She arched toward him, lost her seating, and started to slide forward off her marble perch.
"Whoa." Bastien broke the kiss to catch her before she landed on the sidewalk. They both laughed with embarrassment, and he helped her back up onto the rounded top of the strip of marble.
"I should have sat over there." She gestured toward the wider end. "But it was wet."
Bastien didn't even glance, he merely scooted forward until one knee was at her back, and the other was against the front of her knees. It was an effort to help her keep her balance. Then he again lowered his head to kiss her. This time, when Terri arched toward him and started to slide forward, she hit the knee in front of her and took him with her.
They broke apart once more, laughing as they saved themselves; then Bastien caught her hand and stood. Terri thought that would be the end of the attempted kisses, but instead of continuing on their walk, he tugged her back the way they'd come to the wider marble. He muttered something about the water, used his shirtsleeve to wipe the worst of it away, then sat and pulled her down into his arms.
Terri sighed as his mouth moved toward hers. Bastien was holding her tightly against his chest, seemingly determined she not slide off anywhere. She hardly noticed. Her concentration was focused wholly upon his mouth and what it was doing. The moment his lips touched hers, she let her own open, then gasped as his tongue met hers. The kiss was just as startling to her as it had been in front of the museum. She didn't recall ever having felt quite so overwhelmed, but then it
had
been ten years since she'd been properly kissed.
Not that she hadn't been kissed at all in that time.
There had been the rare occasion when the dreaded blind date, or setup by friends, had been impossible to avoid. But not one of those handful of men since Ian's death had done anything more than nibble eagerly at her lips, leaving her at best unmoved and at worst irritated and repulsed. If she were to be honest, however, Terri hadn't invited any of those kisses. She hadn't wanted them, hadn't been interested in those men. In Bastien, she was. She liked him; she enjoyed his company, and her body most definitely responded to his attention. Terri was plastered against him, her hands upon his chest, yet she found herself trying to get closer, pressing into him as her tongue moved tentatively forward to meet his.
The sudden squeal of tires and the angry honk of a car horn intruded and made her eyes blink open. Terri's head tilted to the side, and her gaze shot past Bastien's cheek to the street beyond. She couldn't see what had caused the noise, but what she
could
see made her stiffen and instinctively turn away from Bastien's kiss. He seemed undaunted, simply ran his mouth along her cheek until he found her ear. Terri almost moaned at this new caress, her eyes starting to droop closed again. It took a lot of effort to fight the urge.
"There is a whole row of taxi drivers here watching," she murmured, blushing as she glanced at the parked cars, their drivers out talking amongst each other while watching them.
"Let them," Bastien breathed into her ear. "The poor bastards are probably jealous."
"But…" Terri paused in her protest, her eyes closing on a shudder as Bastien chuckled, his breath blowing against her ear.
"Besides, the taxi drivers are nothing," he said. "On my side we have the Hilton doorman, the bellhop, the guys cleaning the lobby, the reception people, a couple of guests, and at least one street person." Bastien punctuated each witness he listed with a kiss of her neck, then caught her head, turned her face back to his, and looked her in the eye. "This is New York. I'm sure they've seen couples snogging before."