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By the time Delphine had settled back into her apartment after her reunion with Stroud it was getting late, the sky darkening from streaks of pink and orange and into rich purples and bruised blues. She'd certainly considered simply crawling into bed, and who could have blamed her after the day she'd just had? The flight itself was exhausting enough, but there'd been no rest when she'd arrived home.

Still, sleep would have to wait a little bit longer.

Sipping at the glass of wine she'd poured herself, the petite dance retrieved her phone from where it'd been resting on the counter and thumbed through her contacts until she found Ian's number. Smiling softly, she hit send before bringing the phone up to her ear. Listening patiently as it rang.




Nights in the Hargrove apartment were spent grading various papers from his students at Romano's. Neither his cousin nor aunt intruded upon his quietude during these hours any more - his room was sacrosanct. Colin's old room, briefly an office, now Ian's domain small as it might have been. The thought of moving had struck him more than once, but it was convenient to not and also had the benefit of driving his obnoxious cousin batshit, so Ian stayed put.

To one side, his cellphone screen lit up, the 'dulcet' tones of Rachmoninov lauding an incoming call rather than text. Ian pushed his glasses up, sighing as he reached for the phone. Ah. Delphine. How interesting.

"Good evening, Delphine." Crystal clear and with a delightful baritone tenor that carried well thanks to the blessings of expensive technology, Ian greeted his youthful paramour with a practised warmth. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"




Ian did not disappoint, and the young woman could feel her smile growing into something smug and full of delight as his voice slid from the speaker of her phone, wrapping around her like something soft, warm, and alive. "I'd forgotten how loud the city could be at this hour," she mused cryptically as she crossed the studio styled apartment to the big windows, drawing one of the pale curtains aside as she tucked herself up against the wide frame. "Nothing overt, but it's a constant, buzzing hum that settles into the bones."

She had absolute faith in his ability to sift through the the idle commentary to reach the meat of her words. I'm home.. She'd missed him. As many questions as she'd still had about where they stood upon her departure, he'd lingered in her thoughts while she'd been away. Phone calls were woefully few and far between while the company had toured, and texting was fractured by a busy schedule and conflicting time zones. There'd been letters, postcards of cities she was traveling through. Articulate and expressive, and peppered over with enough coquetry to hold his interest even with an ocean between them.




Delphine rarely spoke bluntly, preferring to utilize the charms of a well bred young woman and plying her words to give meaning in circuitous pathways. Ian didn't mind, he had been raised to parse these sorts of interactions with an ease that his cousin would not have been able to manage. "You'll settle soon enough my dear."

Shuffling his pile of papers yet-to-be-graded and deeming it perfectly acceptible to leave off in favour of more engaging divertissement, Ian set them aside neatly. "Perhaps you are also not quite yet used to the change in time zones and would like some company?" He had classes to teach, but that was nothing that could not be handled even with little - or indeed no - sleep. "As I recall, your day would not nearly be ended..."




He'd hear a soft sound of amusement from her end, then a brief pause. A glance at the antique clock on the wall was proof enough of the truth of his words. "It'll take days to acclimate again," she lamented, punctuating her point with a softly dramatic sigh. Mindless banter as she considered his oh so tempting offer.

"I wouldn't want to pull you away from your educational duties." Her thumb smoothed over the curve of her glass as she swirled the dark liquid within it. "But that's not an offer I'm willing to pass on, not from you." Not ever. Whether he was aware of it or not, Ian had the petite dance's rapt attention. She considered for a moment suggesting they meet somewhere, but silver eyes flicked to the bottom of wine on the counter. "Do you drink wine, Mr. St.




"Weeks, perhaps, but we shall hope not." When he'd moved from France to America, the time shift had gutted him for ages - it was obnoxious, along with so many of the brusque and heavy-handed American ways. Uncouth creatures, so tiresome. Delphine is truly a breath of fresh air.. Even if catering to her could be tedious at times, as she was younger than he in a manner that had brushed against inappropriate. Teens were so...insular. Self absorbed. It made them fun to play with, but also a bit tiring occasionally.

"You would be doing me a favour, really. I cannot bear another minute of reading these horrific things marauding as essays." He added a measure of persuasion into his tone, a dash of wistfullness too - Delphine would enjoy that. "I do indeed. My family had a lovely little vineyard...I quite miss it. Good wine is less difficult to find than good company here, but...I am afraid I do not get to indulge in either nearly so much as I would like."




Weeks to recover from jet lag was simply unacceptable. Delphine was free from obligations through the first week in May, but then it was back to practice and productions. She couldn't afford the odd hours or the exhaustion. It was foreign to her to even have a break of any significant length, and she wasn't entirely sure what to do with it, though it would provide an opportunity to reconnect with her horses. And perhaps Ian would like to accompany on a ride again.

He really did know how to charm her. The tone had her smiling into her wine glass as she brought it up for another sip, drawing the throw blanket shed draped herself in up over her shoulders again. "I've just opened a bottle of 2009 Bordeaux. We could perhaps satisfy both yearnings in quick order." It was about as direct as she ever got, and there was a good possibility that the half a glass shed already consumed was to blame.

"I have something for you as well, gifts from the tour." Not that she thought she needed to sweeten the offer more than she already had.




Of course, there were ways to correct it much more quickly, his cousin probably knew them. Or a doctor, or - god forbid - she could peruse and sift the dubious quality information available on the internet like so many chose to do. Melatonin, I think. If one does not wish to pursue harder pharmaceuticals. I suppose I could ask Colin, if she does not. Or Aunt Rebecca...she would probably know and be much less obnoxious to ask...

"Ah, it would be such a shame to waste it. I hear 2009 was a good year for bordeaux in many a vineyard." Smooth, very smooth - a hint of illicit suggestion, just enough to give wicked thrill and answer to her own side-stepped invitation-not-invitation. "Perhaps..." Ian let the word fall into the noise of the city, knowing just when to pause for the best effect.

He smiled, tapping neatly manicured nails against school papers silently - "Would it be too forward, too improper, to suggest I come to keep you company? Of course it would, but...then, I cannot help thinking again...it would be such a shame to leave you to suffer the long evening alone when I am available." He could even bring something to go with the wine, it was late yes - but Destiny City had many places open at odd hours thanks to the bustling night life.




She waited, almost sure she knew what his answer would be, but even this was a dance of sorts, and the tempo fell out of taste when it was rushed. Ian knew the steps and didn't so much as skip a beat. An agreeable hum followed his observations on the vintage, and she could feel herself grinning again at the thoughtful pause.

"No, not at all. Company would be greatly appreciated, and I'm quite sure I couldn't finish this bottle on my own." Delphine had only really been drinking for the last two years and those occasions were fairly few and far between. She'd opened it with the idea that if Ian hadn't been avaible, a glass or two nights have helped her get to bed at a decent hour.

"You remember the address?" She adjusted the throw again as she stepped away from the window to sink down on the white couch, shapely legs tucking up beside her. Adjusting the length of her skirt with a twitch of her wrist so it settled over her knees.

Dark eyes flicked down to the hand lingering on her own as he took the offered glass of wine, and again felt that internal twist and tug at her core. He knew exactly what he was doing; which buttons to push and exactly how hard to push them. Delphine was helpless in face of such cool confidence and culture, but surely he already knew that. Could read the effect he had on her on her face as she lifted her head to look up at him again.

"My mistress welcomed me home with champagne and introductions to new teammates she's taken command over in my absence." She still wasn't quite sure what to think of new faces she'd met earlier that day. "Including a mauvian that vomited in a pair of my shoes," she added with disdain and disgust.

"It made for an interesting, albeit long afternoon, but after a morning full of international travel I admit I was longing for calm and quiet." Some sleep would have been welcome, but jet-lag had other plans for her.

But she standing here with Ian now, she wasn't complaining. Cradling her glass close to her chest she took a step closer to him, one small hand coming up to rest on his arm. "Is that so?" Dark painted lips pulled in a pleased smile. "This is precisely where you wish to be?" It was music to her ears.

The kiss sent a thrill through the petite dancer down to the pointed toes she'd risen up on to meet him as he'd leaned down, and it was everything she'd wanted it to be. Soft and warm, with the slid of his strong hand settling low at her waist. He was a gentleman, and even in the exchange of affections he acted like one. Rare was Ian St. George, and here he stood in her apartment, giving all that smooth attention to her. It was precisely what she wanted.

Did he know how very much he'd her thoughts had led to him in her travels? How many times she'd considered how he'd like the town they were staying in, or wine they were drinking. How often she'd wondered if she were occupying his thoughts as he occupied her's.

Where else would he have chosen to be? No where. This was where needed him to be now that she was home could feel the warmth of his touch and hear the sweetness of his voice without separation of a speaker to rob it of it's cadence. "I missed you.". Like it hasn't been painfully obvious.

Like the brush of his fingers at the small of her back didn't make her shiver.

Every card Ian lay on the table tonight was placed with perfect care and intent, and in this dangerous little game they were playing he was most certainly winning. Not that the dainty dancer was putting up much, if any fight at this point. She wanted what this tall man had to offer, and her patience for subtly and modest had been eroded away by time and distance.

When he bent to kiss her again she sighed with content against his lips and her free hand lifted to cup the strong bones at the side of his face. So handsome. It was a fleeting thought, there and gone as her lips parted and she tasted the rich wine on his tongue.

A thrill rushed through her down to her toes, and she was rising on point, the hand at his cheek gliding back through soft curls to rest at the back of his neck as he trailed his lips along her jaw and back to warm her ear with the soft murmur of his voice. The way he said her name. The press of his fingers at the small of her back.

She couldn't think.

There was only sensation and heat, and the soft buzz of the wine they'd been drinking. "I'm here," she answered softly, voice breathy.

It was quiet impossible to miss and Delphine stiffened as she realized what it was she'd felt, but that hesitance lasted only until the tall man was sweeping her literally off her feet and up into his arms. She clung to him, muscular legs swinging up and around his waist to help hold herself up, and if he'd happened to glance up up at her face before turning his careful attention to the pale line of her neck he'd have seen just how terribly flushed she was at this point.

Rosy pink from her hairline and down through her chest, and the expression in dark eyes was almost lost, certainly helpless, and far too trusting.

Delicate fingers toyed at the soft curls at the back of his neck as her pulse hammered, hard enough she hear it in her ears. Surely he could as well, or at the very least feel it against his chest as he carried her. Dipping her head the dancer lay her temple against his curls, her lips a warm brush against the shell of his ear but words failed her.