It had been fear. She'd been afraid that he'd left her. But he hadn't. He was still close, and she hated to admit how happy that made her. After a sip of coffee, she noticed that his boots were by the door, and his T-shirt was slung across the island, like he owned the place. She grabbed his shirt and pulled it over her head, letting the blanket fall to the floor. The cotton was so soft it was like a second skin, and she hugged her arms around herself, savoring the feel. This is how it would be. This is how it would be if they were together every night. Waking up with him, wearing his ancient T-shirts, drinking his coffee. Toni wanted it all.
The early June morning was absolutely beautiful, sunny and warm. Birds chirped as she opened the door and padded across the patio, her feet bare. O'Donovan looked up at her, a slow smile stretching across his face.
“Morning, lovely,” he said, his voice gruff.
“Who is this sexy stranger? Reading the Journal and wearing reading glasses?” she said, not able to resist teasing him. A pair of wire frames perched on his nose, and damn, did he look good in them. But at this point, she was convinced his hot ass would look good in anything. He shook his head, working his jaw.
“I'm old, what can I say?”
“You're not old.” She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Although in this light, you are looking a little grey.” He looked at her sharply and she laughed out loud. He yanked her into his lap and she squealed, holding out her coffee cup so she didn't spill any of the hot liquid on her bare legs. He rubbed his stubbled cheek against hers and she giggled, settling herself in his lap. “You're my silver fox,” she said, kissing his cheek.
“You're gonna pay for that,” he said, his attention back on the paper.
“So what's going on in the world of finance? I'm so interested.” She took a sip of coffee.
“Who the fuck knows? Reading this is like trying to decipher Hebrew.” He shrugged, giving her the side-eye.
“Uh huh.” She rolled her eyes, not buying it. “I think you might have more in common with Christophe Van der Kind than you think.” He slapped the paper shut and looked at her full on, his green eyes shining in the sunlight. She ran a hand across his rough face, unable to resist. “I love when you don't shave.”
“I love when you wear my shirts.” He tugged at the tattered hem of the T-shirt, biting his lip. She didn't say the words that were hovering on the tip of her tongue, but they hung in the air between them. I love you. She cleared her throat.
“What do you want to do today? I have rehearsal tomorrow morning, but I'm free today,” she said, taking another sip of coffee to hide the shake in her voice.
“I'm all yours,” he said, turning his eyes back to the paper. “I'm good with spending the rest of the day in bed.”
“But it's so nice out,” Toni tilted her face to feel the sun on her face. “We could go to the park.”
“Whatever. I need food first.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're like a broken record, you know?” she said, giggling as she slid off his lap. She took his hand and yanked on it. “We'll get food, I promise. But first, I have to show you the most amazing shower that man has ever created.”
Three hours later, they finally left the house, after christening Nat and Christophe's shower until the water ran cold. She had really tried not to get down and dirty in her sister's shower, but O'Donovan had been so hard to resist.
Oops.
It was worth it. So, so worth it. Her body still tingled all over. Stretched out on the wool blanket beneath a tree in Central Park, Toni felt like all was right in the world. She dropped her head on O'Donovan's hard chest, flipping open her fashion magazine. They'd stopped at Whole Foods and bought some overpriced food, so he'd finally eaten. Thank God. She'd thought he would never stop complaining. With a smile on her face, she searched quickly through the pages first, looking for a picture of her cousin Vivica, like she always did. She used to see her all the time, in Vogue and W especially, but pictures of her were fewer and further in-between these days.
“Are you actually going to read that shit?” he asked, cracking an eye open. He'd been dozing, his hands behind his head.
“Yes, I am.” She nodded, flipping back to the beginning. “It's no Wall Street Journal, but it's fun.” He sighed heavily, shaking his head and closing his eyes again. “What? Was that a judgmental sigh?”
“Not at all.” Then without warning he grabbed her magazine and held it up to his face.
“Hey!” she yelled, lightly slapping his chest.
“Let's see. Jason Wu's new fall collection is fresh and exciting,” he said, flipping a page. “Pink is back in? Interesting.” Toni lifted his shirt and blew a raspberry on his six-pack. He glanced down at her, raising an eyebrow.
“That was hot, baby. Do it again.”
“Give it back,” she giggled, reaching for it as he held it out over his head, out of her reach.
“Bastian?” a low voice, tipped with a slight edge, caught both of their attentions. “Oh my God. That is you!” Toni shielded her eyes from the sun, and looked up at the speaker. A woman with long, thick, curled blond hair, in designer-head-to-toe, and with perfect makeup, was staring down at them, her eyebrows raised almost to her hairline.
“Gwendolyn,” O'Donovan said, his voice flat.
“Well. I never thought I'd see you in this part of town again,” the blonde woman said, her dark eyes taking him in. She didn't smile so much as grimace. Then her gaze turned to Toni and widened in surprise. Her friend, a redhead with matching curls, stepped forward.
“It's good to see you again, Sebastian,” the redhead said with a smile.
“Hey, Christine.” O'Donovan made no move to sit up, but Toni did, pushing up on her knees. She held out her hand.
“Hi, I'm Toni.” The redhead, Christine, shook it, and then the blonde.
“I'm Gwen. This is Christine,” the blonde, Gwen said.
“I love your Kate Spade. I've had my eye on the new collection,” Toni said, pointing at Gwen's bag.
“Oh. Well, thank you.”
“I really love the blue leather, too. I'm so boring, I was looking at the tan or the black.”
“That's not boring, it's classic,” Gwen said, waving her hand. “You can't go wrong with one of those.”
“That's what I was thinking.” Toni shook her head, glancing down at O'Donovan, who was silent. “Do you want to join us? We're just chilling.”
“Oh, no. We're on our way to meet some friends,” Gwen said quickly, also looking at O'Donovan, her eyes saying more than her mouth.
“It's such an awesome day for a walk in the park,” Toni gushed.
“Totally,” Christine agreed, nodding.
“It was good to see you again, Bastian,” Gwen said, finally taking her eyes off of O'Donovan. “And nice to meet you...?”
“Toni. Toni St. James,” Toni supplied with a bright smile.
“Right. Okay. See you later,” Gwen said, turning and strolling off in her Jimmy Choo espadrilles. Christine gave a short wave and followed her. When they were out of hearing distance, Toni looked down at O'Donovan, who was scrubbing his hands over his face.
“That was awkward,” Toni said, grimacing.
“Ex-wife.”
“That was your ex-wife?!” Toni smacked at his arm. “I should have known. I bet you were a sap for all that blonde hair.” Toni sat back, thinking about Gwen. She was pretty, not the most beautiful woman in the world, but pretty. She carried herself well, that was for sure. And hadn't O'Donovan said they had lots of sexual chemistry? Now that she had a face to go with the thoughts, she could imagine O'Donovan sliding in between the blonde's legs, making her call out in pleasure, just like he'd done to Toni. Bitch, Toni thought nastily, then laughed to herself for being jealous.
“Christ,” he growled, shaking his head, breaking Toni's concentration. “I hate her.”
“If it's any consolation, I think she hates you, too, Bastian,” Toni said, and the thought made her feel better. O'D
onovan was hers now, and Gwen was just a bad memory.
“Never, ever call me that,” he said, his voice so serious that Toni couldn't help but smile. “This is why I avoid Manhattan,” he muttered, as if to himself.
“You can't avoid her forever. You live in the same city.” He didn't respond, just stared up at the tree above. Toni grabbed her magazine back and settled against him again, feeling that he needed some space. She got through a few pages before he spoke again.
“You know, I think you missed your calling,” he said, the humor back in his voice. “You should be a politician.”
“You think so?” She craned her neck to look at him.
“You're so damn diplomatic it's ridiculous.”
“Maybe when my ballet career is over, I'll be the next Hillary Clinton,” she said with a giggle.
“There goes my libido,” he deadpanned. “It's officially dead.”
“Don't hate on Hillary. I will murder you in your sleep,” Toni said. Without a word, he slid his hands around her waist and hauled her up on top of him. She squealed as he pressed kisses to her cheek and to her neck and then captured her lips with his. She deepened the kiss, her whole body responding to his like she was an addict and he was her drug of choice.
Kevin Nichols. The familiar name surfaced in her clouded mind. Toni hadn't thought of him in a long time, but he'd been her high school boyfriend and first love. Tall, awkward Kevin Nichols. She'd been in love with that fool from the first time he'd kissed her at homecoming. When it ended, she'd cried for weeks. It was a long time ago, but that was the only time she'd ever been in love. No matter how much time passed, she remembered the feelings she felt then—the giddy, slightly needy joy, combined with a sort of delicious desperation to be closer. The feelings were mingling within her at that very moment, except amplified to the nth degree. The end result was unmistakeable. She was in too deep, she knew now. Too deep to free herself. She craved O'Donovan—his smile, his eyes, his weird sense of humor, and his blunt words. She craved how he kept her on her toes. How he took care of her. How he looked at her, like she was a problem he was intent on fixing. Everything.
There was nothing to be done about it.
She'd fallen in love with Sebastian O'Donovan. Definitely. Inescapably.
“Maybe Hillary isn't so bad,” he said, breaking through her thoughts. She giggled loudly and stuck her tongue out at him, but kissed him again anyway because she wanted to. Nothing was going to ruin this day, she decided. Not even his ex-wife, she realized, her body relaxing and her brain breathing a silent sigh of relief. Nothing could ruin things between them, it seemed. Not fights or idealogical differences. The thought filled her with happiness. She was in love, and all was right with the world.
Now she just had to make O'Donovan fall in love with her. Sliding her hand across his rough cheek and pressing her lips to his again, she prayed to God he wouldn't make her work too hard for it.
Chapter 13
What the hell are you doing? O'Donovan asked himself for the millionth time, as he dragged his ass up the stairs to the main hall at Lincoln Center. He wore his expensive suit, pulled out of the bowels of his closet, and a bright white shirt, open at the collar. He hoped he wasn't too dressed up, but Toni had assured him he would be fine. O'Donovan felt uncomfortable, but that was the least of his problems. Toni had told him that her sister Annata St. James and Christophe Van der Kind were going to be there that night. They were Toni's family, true. But they were also rich people. Very rich people. The thought of having to make small talk with rich people had his hackles up.
You don't belong here.
The niggling thought had wormed its way into his brain and wouldn't leave. But there was nothing he could do about it. He'd agreed to come to Toni's opening night. She'd kill him if he skipped it. He felt his chest getting a little tight when he thought of her, and a smile crossed his lips. The little princess had him really tripped up, he thought, feeling annoyed and slightly exhilarated at the same time.
The last few weeks had been... something else. Toni was slowly getting under his skin. When they yelled and screamed at each other, he still wanted to kiss her. When they fucked, he felt like he was on cloud nine. When she acted like a spoiled brat, he let it roll off his back. They'd existed in a bubble of their own making, and it was about to explode around them. The second he met her family, it would be real. He and Toni would be real. Whatever they were.
He held open the glass door for a group of well-dressed women and then stepped in after them. The lobby was full of rich looking patrons and donors, as well as members of the unwashed masses, mostly students. He slid his hands in his pockets and kept to the outskirts of the crowd. His phone vibrated in his coat pocket and he checked it.
Toni: Are you here yet?
O'Donovan: In the lobby.
Toni: Yay! Go up the stairs to your right....
He shook his head, trying not to smile but failing. He crossed the room and jogged up the red velvet stairs that led to the mezzanine level. He strolled along the railing, looking down on the crowd below. He saw Toni, in leg warmers and fuzzy slippers along with her sequined purple costume, before she saw him, pushing through a curtain along the wall. Her face lit up when she saw him, literally, the glittering makeup on her face catching the light. She skipped over to him, a big smile on her face.
“Oh my God, you're here!” she said, crashing into him. She took his face in her hands and pressed a light kiss to his lips. He pushed into her and she wriggled against him. “Careful, don't muss my makeup,” she said, giggling.
“Alright, so point them out to me,” he said, leaning on the railing. She leaned over as well and looked through the crowd, her eyes scanning. Her eyes widened and she pointed below.
“There's Christophe. Oh my God, my hand is shaking. I'm so damn nervous.” O'Donovan took her hand and pressed it to his lips. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, sighing.
“Better?”
“Better,” she said with a smile.
“Good. Now where is he?”
“See the tall blond guy in the black suit? That's him.” She pointed again, and O'Donovan zeroed in on Van der Kind. He had a phone to his ear, and was at the edge of the crowd near the door. He was tall and blond, like Toni had described him, and he also carried an air of power and entitlement. He was definitely younger than O'Donovan too, which inexplicably annoyed him. She smoothed her lips together. “Thank you so much for coming.”
“I thought about just going to the pub, but then I thought, why the hell not?” He shrugged nonchalantly, staring down at Christophe Van der Kind.
“Uh huh,” she rolled her eyes.
“I don't know shit about the ballet, but I know you're going to kick ass, lovely,” he said, sliding his hand around her waist.
“You know what? I am going to kick ass,” she nodded, encouraged. “Okay, I have to get back. Go make nice-nice with Christophe.” She poked him in the ribs.
“Me? Nice?” He shook his head like it was a foreign concept.
“Diplomacy is key. Remember that,” she said, with a smile, then yelped when he smacked her ass. She gave him a fake scowl, then jogged back toward the curtain. He watched her until she disappeared behind it, blowing him a kiss before she did. His heart squeezed in his chest. The little princess had him, he realized. She had him firmly by the balls. Running his hand over his face, he glanced back down at the crowd.
Alright, motherfucker. Let's do this.
O'Donovan took his time making his way over to Van der Kind, dreading the introductions and dreading the small talk. What the hell was he supposed to say to a billionaire? Van der Kind hung up the phone, finally and O'Donovan saw his entrance. He stepped to the man and thrust out his hand.
“Christophe Van der Kind?” Van der Kind looked up, surprised. “I'm Sebastian O'Donovan. Toni's... friend.”
“Ah.” Van der Kind nodded, a smile spreading over his face. “Christophe.” He introduced himself, shaking O'Donovan's hand s
moothly.
“O'Donovan.”
“Good to meet you.” Christophe turned to face the crowd. “Don't you just hate this kind of shit? I'll have to start working the room if Annie doesn't show up soon.” Christophe checked his fancy-ass watch. O'Donovan looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “I'd much rather be at home with the wife, in case you can't tell. But our Toni is very near and dear to us.”
“She is something else,” O'Donovan said, smiling again like an idiot when he thought of her.
“So what do you do?” Christophe asked.
“Firefighter. In Queens.” O'Donovan said gruffly, not wanting to be defensive but already feeling on edge.
“Firefighter? That's a new one.” Now it was Christophe's turn to raise an eyebrow. “Wait, your name. It's familiar.”
“I was the one that pulled Toni out of that wreck a couple years back.” Christophe turned his full attention back on O'Donovan. O'Donovan shook his head, pre-empting the sentiments that Van der Kind was probably about to express. “No. Don't think about it. I try not to.” O'Donovan forced his eyes to coast over the crowd. “Besides, I was just doing my job.”
“You want a drink? I want a drink.” Christophe said, motioning toward the bar. O'Donovan nodded and followed him, a whiskey sounding like heaven right about then. “Whiskey?” he asked like he could read O'Donovan's mind. O'Donovan nodded, feeling fine as soon as the cool glass hit his hand.
“So what do you do?” O'Donovan asked, like he didn't already know.
“Business.” Christophe shrugged. O'Donovan nodded again, not sure what else to add. “My wife is the real business genius in the family. You haven't met Annie yet, have you?”
Kiss of Fire (St. James Family) Page 15
