anything is better than what you get in the mess hall. Or my mom’s cooking. I love her, but she has never belonged in a kitchen. As for the meat and potatoes, I never turn down a good steak.”
“Well, I’m one of those crazies who is allergic to wheat, white rice, shellfish and dairy,” Hannah admitted. She loved food, but had learned long ago that her body had specific needs. Her allergic reactions varied from rashes to her throat swelling so badly she couldn’t breathe. “So I eat a lot of protein and vegetables and fruit. None of which are here.” The table was laden with sushi, dim sum and all types of puff pastries filled with a variety of meats and shrimp.
Will put his chopsticks down. “Do you want to get out of here and find something else to eat? Is that okay, since it’s your party?”
She was starving and alone time with Will didn’t seem like such a bad idea. The crazy day and several nights of no sleep sent her into zombie mode. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold up the pretense. “The bathroom is near the entrance—if anyone asks, that’s where we are headed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He covered her hand in his and pulled her through the crowd.
A few seconds later they were out in the hallway with hopefully no one the wiser. “That was much easier than I thought it would be.” Hannah’s shoulders dropped about an inch.
Will laughed. “I caught a few people staring and whispering. They’re probably thinking the worst.”
Hannah grabbed a clip from her purse and put her hair back up in a loose ponytail. She was already more relaxed now that she didn’t have to impress the denizens of the fashion world. “My guess is they’re jealous. How would you feel about a steak?”
“Like I said, I never turn one down.”
AFTER THEIR MEAL at the steak house, Will escorted Hannah to her studio. It was only a few blocks away and she wanted to walk off the calories she’d eaten. As far as he could see, her body was perfect. Every time she brushed against him at the party he had to control his libido.
She’d warned him, been so worried about how he would view her friends. They were definitely eccentric, but many of them were good people. Will’s instincts when it came to judging people had never steered him wrong. Besides, she should hang out with a group of marines on a Friday night. That was some weirdness.
“You suddenly seem really far away,” Hannah said.
He squeezed her hand. “I’m right here.”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to thank you for everything you’ve done today.”
“Hannah, I told you earlier. I was happy to help. And tonight, well, I’ve had a great time.”
“Me, too.” She smiled up at him sweetly.
That grin was a like a light directed straight to his blackened soul. There were times the past two years when he wondered if he would ever feel joy again. Throughout dinner he found himself relaxing and even laughing at times. Hannah did that to him and he feared he could become addicted to her quite easily.
She stopped in front of a five-story building. “This is me. It’s been a long day, but I was wondering if you would come upstairs. There’s something I want to give you.”
He paused as he tried to figure out what she meant.
“Uh, that sounded so lurid. I promise I have no—uh, you know, on your body…uh. Yeah. Do you want to come up?”
“Sure. It’s hard to say no to an invitation like that.” Though Will had to admit, he wished she did have designs on his body. At the very least he wanted to deeply explore the kiss they shared earlier in the night.
Inside the building he was surprised to see her name across a door on the first floor, but she led him to a freight elevator.
“That’s my studio. I rent out the rest of the floors as loft spaces. We have a cool view of the Hudson on the back side of the building.”
“You own the building?”
She smiled. “I inherited it from my grandmother, along with an apartment on the Upper West Side. I sublet that one, too. I like being close to work because I never know when a creative binge is going to happen so I moved into the penthouse here. Plus, I’m not really a west-sider. My parents are, but not me.”
Will knew enough about Manhattan real estate to understand that was a pricey neighborhood. She must have come from a wealthy family.
“Were they at your show tonight?”
“Who?” The elevator opened and they entered her apartment. Everything was white and she hadn’t lied about the view. The lights flickered across the river.
“Your parents. Were they at your event this afternoon?”
She laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “My parents are mortified by my choice of profession.”
Will was surprised. “You can’t be serious. I thought people with money like that loved clothes.”
She dumped her bag on a coffee table in front of a long sectional couch. Except for a giant flat-screen hanging on the wall it was the only thing in this part of the loft. He could see a filmy curtain in the back that separated her bedroom from the rest of the area. A fridge and a microwave were the only appliances in the kitchen.
How does she cook a meal without an oven or a stovetop?
Will didn’t have a home, except for his parents’ house. Financially, it made no sense to have a place of his own—he was in the U.S. Marine Corps and he lived wherever they sent him. He never accumulated much in the way of belongings because of his travels. But Hannah hadn’t seemed one to like a sparse lifestyle. The clothing at her show was colorful and fun. He wasn’t sure what he expected but it wasn’t this.
“Most of them do love clothing. My family is from old money. My mother has a stylist who buys everything she wears. I’m not sure she’s ever stepped foot in a department store or even a boutique. The clothes and the jewels all come to her. And my dad, well, he lives to work. My mother has all of his clothes made by the same tailors who seamed my grandfather’s clothing.”
Slipping off her heels, she tossed them on the floor near the bar in her kitchen.
He stifled the urge to pick them up and put them where they were supposed to go. Will had a thing about order. Rafe called him OCD, but his friend wasn’t much better. Most of the marines he knew liked to keep their belongings tidy. It was a part of the lifestyle. They never knew when they’d be called into action.
“Wow! Talking about my parents just sucked the life right out of the room.” She motioned to the couch. “Go have a seat. I’ll be back in a minute.”
While it was only ten-thirty, Will had dated enough to know a minute to a woman was often a half hour in man time. He flipped on the television and turned the volume down low. He watched the end of the news and then switched to see a documentary on the National Geographic channel.
“Oh, I love that movie, except for that poor wildebeest who doesn’t see the lion coming.”
Will
