He tried to kiss her again then, but Terri pulled back. "Snogging?" she said.
Bastien blinked, then smiled. "It's a British term. It means kissing, making out."
"Yes, I know! I live in the U.K., remember?" she said, but was more interested in the fact that she now had a clue to the accent she'd been trying and failing to place. "So, that's the hint of an accent I hear. You're British."
He hesitated, then shook his head. "No. I lived there for a while, though."
"When?" You said—"
Apparently unwilling to discuss it further, Bastien cut her off with a kiss. He didn't try any other persuasion but his lips. Terri went still at first, and after a moment realized she was waiting for something—the usual groping. But it never came. Bastien's hands shifted from her upper arms to her back, but didn't roam. All of Bastien's attention and focus was on her mouth, his lips moving over hers with hunger and passion, his tongue sliding in to dance with hers. After a moment, his accent, the fact that they were outside, and their audience were all forgotten.
Giving another sigh, Terri allowed herself to be swept up on his passion once more and pressed herself against him, her hands creeping up to rest on Bastien's shoulders. There they curled in the material of his shirt, pulling in an unconscious effort to get closer still. Terri couldn't possibly get closer, though; she and Bastien were as close as two people could be without actually making love.
Time passed in a kaleidoscope of color and sensation for Bastien. All he knew or cared about was the woman in his arms and the lips beneath his own. Terri was soft and sweet in his embrace, pressing her body into his, clutching eagerly at his clothing. She was making passionate little mewling sounds deep in her throat, which both pleased and excited him. Bastien hadn't felt so alive in centuries. He hadn't felt so desperately hungry ever. But he was also very aware of the woman he held. Terri wasn't just anyone. She might be his life mate.
His eyes opened and skated across the glass front of the Hilton. There were three people working the check-in desk. Only one was busy with a customer; Bastien could have a room in minutes if they went in. He actually considered it briefly, then let the idea slip away. Terri wasn't the type to go for that sort of thing. He knew it instinctively. The time he had already spent with her and his own knowledge of women gained from four-hundred-plus years of life told him that. If he tried, he'd scare her off so fast that he'd be wondering how the girl in his arms had turned into a dust trail.
These thoughts crossed Bastien's mind several times as he kissed Terri. And each time he came to the same result. No. It was a bad move to rush things. But eventually it got to the point where he soon
had
to stop or he
would
try to take her in and rent a room.
He kissed her gently one last time, then again, then broke off altogether to tuck her head under his chin and just hold her. For a moment Bastien smoothed his hands soothingly over her back, allowing his body the time it needed to regain control of itself. At last he said, "We should go home."
"Home," Terri echoed, and there was a sadness in her voice that made his arms tighten around her. It told him that she didn't want this to end, either. His gaze slid to the revolving doors of the Hilton, but danced away from temptation just as quickly.
"Yes." She sighed, running her fingers lightly back and forth over a small patch of his chest in an action he suspected she didn't know was rather distracting. "We should head back. It's almost daylight."
His gaze shifted to the lightening sky, then to his watch, and Bastien grimaced. It was five-thirty in the morning! It would be full daylight soon. They'd been sitting here making out like teenagers for over an hour.
"Come." Urging her backward, he caught her hand and stood, pulling her with him. "Do you still want to walk home, or should I hire a taxi?" He slipped a steadying arm around Terri as she swayed against him.
He saw her glance toward the row of watching taxi drivers. A blush immediately crept into her cheeks. "Er… walking would be better."
He nodded in understanding, and they began to walk, Bastien smiling slightly at the way she now had her head tucked down in embarrassment, not looking to either side. He found it charming, her discomfort at being seen kissing. After more than four hundred years on this earth, Bastien didn't much care what people thought, and until now would have guessed the same of Terri. She seemed to care so little about looking foolish, but apparently that level of comfort didn't stretch to snogging in public. He was again glad that he hadn't tried to lure her into the hotel, she probably would have been mortified at the thought of all those cabbies knowing exactly where they were going and what they would be doing.
"Something smells good." she said.
They had reached the end of the hotel carport and were standing on the corner, waiting to cross the street. Bastien glanced down to see that Terri had finally lifted her face and was sniffing the air. She turned her head, trying to find the source of the pleasing scent.
"Across the street," he said, spotting the coffee cart.
"Oh." Terri sighed the word. "Are you hungry?"
Bastien's mouth tipped at the question. Hungry? He was ravenous. But not for breakfast buns. He ran his hand up and down Terri's arm, then squeezed her into his side. When the light changed, he shifted to take her hand and lead her across the street. "Come on, I'll buy you something to tide you over until we get home."
Terri woke up after only four hours of sleep, feeling great. She felt rested, hungry, happy…
Happy.
She considered the word as she brushed her teeth, then got into the shower. Terri had always thought of herself as a happy person. And she had been. But that was before coming to New York. Since meeting and spending time with Bastien, she'd discovered that the happiness prior to this had been a feeling more along the lines of contentment. Terri enjoyed her job, her cottage, and her friends, but she had been just sort of coasting along in life—bobbing on the waters, so to speak. Now she was cresting the waves, diving in and splashing about. For the first time in her life, Terri was really and truly enjoying herself. She felt young, strong, and vital. She felt alive. And scared.
Having something you cared about was great, except it meant you had something that could be taken away.
Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped her long hair in a small hand towel, and used a larger bath towel to quickly dry herself off. Wrapping it around her body sarong-style, she moved to the vanity. There Terri tugged the towel off her head, picked up a brush, and set to work on her hair. At first she didn't really see her reflection, or really even think; she was just working on automatic, carrying out the morning ritual of making herself presentable to the world. But after a moment, she started to notice her reflection and her hand slowed in drawing the brush through her wet brown hair, then stopped altogether.
Letting her hands drop, Terri silently stared, really looking at herself for perhaps the first in a very long time. For years, she had only ever glanced in the mirror to be sure that her hair was neat, or her nose didn't need powdering, not really seeing herself as a whole. Now she took in her reflection with new eyes, seeing what she thought Bastien must see: large green eyes, long mahogany hair, soft full lips, a slightly tipped-up nose. Individually, there was nothing really remarkable about her—or so Terri had always thought. But somehow, this morning, it all came together into a whole that was really quite lovely. Her skin glowed, her eyes twinkled, her mouth tipped up at the corners in a secret smile. This was a woman who was desired.
Terri might not have paid a lot of attention to her appearance, but she did know that she had never looked better in her life. And she looked like this now because of Bastien. Because he made her feel special, wanted, desirable. And he hadn't even tried to sleep with her.
She grinned at her reflection. The man had taken her to the museum, shopping, a play, and dinner. He'd spent all night laughing and talking with her, "snogged" her senseless for well over an hour, bought her a coffee and a sticky bun, walked back to the penthouse holding her hand, walked her to the door of her room, kissed her passionately once more, then had wished her sweet dreams in a husky passion-filled voice, and finally… left to go to his own room. It was the best date she'd had in her life. He'd made her feel special—not with just his courtesy, care, and concern, but by the simple fact of
not
trying to get her into bed. To Terri, it proved that Bastien wasn't just on the make. He really liked her. And she really liked him. It was wonderful and sweet and the best time she'd had in her life—and it was going to hurt so very much when it was over. The pain would be unbearable. Perhaps worse even than when Ian died, she feared. Because Terri was coming to realize that what she and Ian had experienced was puppy love. They'd been two children gamboling about until tragedy had struck in the form of Hodgkin's disease. Then everything had turned terribly serious, and she had found herself becoming almost a mother to him, caring for him in an almost maternal way and nursing him to the end.
What she was beginning to feel for Bastien was neither puppy love nor maternal in nature. He wasn't simply a friend with whom to gambol through life. He was becoming necessary to her. He made her feel complete, sated, just by his presence.
Terri wasn't a stupid woman, and she knew it was too soon to feel such things, but she felt them just the same. Perhaps her feelings were magnified because of the time limit of her stay here, but it didn't really matter. The fact was, she thought of Bastien constantly and wanted to be with him all the time. He was the first thing she thought of upon opening her eyes in the morning, and the last thing she thought of before drifting off to sleep. And she liked that. She liked this abounding joy she felt. Terri liked the way her heart sped up when Bastien walked into the room, or looked at her, or smiled at her, or complimented her, or kissed her.
Yes, she was happier than she had ever been in her life, and more scared than she had ever been. Terri really didn't want to get hurt, and yet she really, really didn't want to lose this—whatever it was—either.
Since common sense told her it couldn't be love this quickly, Terri decided to go with logic. That would be safe. This wasn't love. She just liked Bastien. A lot. And as long as she just kept liking him—and didn't love him—perhaps she could survive with her heart still intact when it ended.
"You can handle this," Terri told her reflection quietly. "Just don't go falling completely in love with the guy. Just keep
liking
him."
Feeling a little bit better and a little less scared now that she had something of a plan, Terri returned to brushing her hair. She would enjoy the time until the wedding. She'd go out with Bastien when he invited her, share talk, laughter, and kisses with him. But she wouldn't fall in love. Then, when she had to go home to England, Terri wouldn't be totally crushed; she would just be terribly sad and resigned that it—like all things—had to end.
"Good morning, Sunshine. You're looking pretty chipper for someone who only straggled in four hours ago."
Terri wrinkled her nose and smiled at Vincent's greeting as she entered the living room. "How do you know what time we got in?"
"I heard you two talking in the hall. It was so late, I worried something had happened to delay you. I opened the door to ask if everything was all right, but you were a bit preoccupied." He waggled his eyebrows meaningfully. "I gathered everything was all right when I saw the two of you lip-locked outside your door. I didn't want to intrude, so I just closed the door and went back to bed."
Terri felt heat flush her cheeks. She hadn't realized anyone had seen them.
"So. Out all night, huh?" Chris said with a grin. "What
were
you doing?"
Terri was saved from having to answer that question by the elevator buzzer. Someone wanted to come up to the penthouse.
"Are you expecting anyone?" Vincent asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, actually. The florists." Terri moved to the panel on the wall, grateful that she'd paid attention when Bastien had worked it. She hit the button to bring up the monitor image of the elevator's passengers, then nodded as she spotted men bearing floral arrangements. Not bothering to ask the obvious question of who they might be, Terri simply hit the button to release the elevator, then glanced at Bastien's cousin. "Will you greet them, Vincent? Just have them put the flowers in here. I want to make some coffee."
"Sure."
"Flowers?" Chris asked. Terri thought he sounded a bit odd, but then many men weren't big on flowers, she supposed.
"Yes. They're the possible floral arrangements for Kate and Lucern's wedding," she explained as she headed for the kitchen. "Bastien is going to take photos and e-mail them to Kate, so she can decide which ones she likes best."
Leaving the men to deal with the flowers and where to put them, Terri hurried into the kitchen to make coffee. It was a new coffeepot, however, with that new smell; and she knew that it needed a couple of pots of just plain water run through it.
She surveyed the kitchen for what she should, or could, have for breakfast while the first pot ran. She
could
have anything she wanted, Terri didn't think there was a single type of food that hadn't been purchased. What she
should
have was another story. She considered toast, but that sounded boring. Cereal wasn't very exciting, either. And the Pop Tarts and toaster strudels were too sweet for breakfast.
Sighing, Terri paced the kitchen briefly, then settled on an omelet. She'd make an omelet big enough for all of them to eat—though it seemed to her that she and Chris would probably eat most of it. Bastien often just picked at his food, and Vincent never ate at all. She should really ask about his digestive ailment. Surely there was
something
she could cook that he could eat.