“I'll let you know tomorrow night. If I don't, will you marry me?”
“No!” It was impossible to be serious with him at times, and at other times he seemed to be able to look into her very soul.
He took her hands firmly in his then and looked down into her eyes. “I have never in my life ever asked a woman to marry me. I'm in love with you. I'm a responsible man. I have a business. My family thinks I'm very intelligent. I am begging you, Zoya … please, darling … please marry me.”
“Oh Simon, I can't.” She looked at him unhappily. “What would my children think? They depend on me entirely, they're not ready for someone to walk into their lives, and neither am I. I've been alone for too long.”
“Yes, you have,” he said quietly. “Much too long. But you don't have to stay that way. Will you think about it?”
She hesitated, and then melted as she looked up at him. “I will … but that doesn't mean any thing will ever come of it.” But that was enough for him, they sat for hours, talking on the deck, and the next morning he knocked on her cabin door at seven o'clock.
“Come and look at the Statue of Liberty with me.”
“At this hour?” She was still in her nightgown, and her hair hung down her back in a long braid as she opened the door to him. “What time is it?”
He smiled as he saw the nightgown and the braid. “It's time to get up, lazy face. You can get dressed afterward. Just put on a coat and some shoes.” She slipped into the mink Axelle had given her several years before, and laughed as she put on high heels, and followed him onto the deck in her outlandish outfit.
“If any of my clients see me, they'll never trust my judgment again.”
“Good. Then maybe Axelle will fire you, and I can save you from a terrible fate.” But they both fell silent as they saw the skyline of New York and the Statue of Liberty as they sailed slowly in. “It's beautiful, isn't it?”
“It is.” She nodded happily. She had paid homage to the past, and now she was looking at the future again. Everything here seemed new and alive, and just looking at it made her feel good again. He turned then and took her in his arms, and held her close as they docked, and then she hurried downstairs to dress and close her trunks. And she didn't see him again until they were ready to leave the ship. He offered them a ride, but they had to decline as Axelle had a car waiting for them. But he followed them down the gangplank, carrying their small bags, and suddenly Zoya gave a small shout and surged ahead. Nicholas was waiting for her on the pier, scanning the crowd, looking so handsome and young. She ran to him, calling his name, and he flew into her arms and held her close. He had come alone, after taking Sasha to school, and it was obvious how much she loved the boy. Simon watched them enviously as he assisted Axelle, and then he went to where Zoya stood with her son, and solemnly shook her hand and smiled at the boy. He would have liked to have a son just like him, particularly when he saw how like Zoya he was.
“Hello, I'm Simon Hirsch.” He introduced himself as the boy looked up at him. “You must be Nicholas.” Nicky smiled shyly at the man, and then laughed.
“How did you know?”
“Your mother talks about you all the time.”
“I talk about her too,” he smiled, slipping an arm around her, as Zoya told him he had grown. He was almost fifteen years old, and he was already as tall as Clayton had been. “Did you have fiin?” He asked as they waited for her trunks, so the customs officer could inspect them.
“I did. But I missed you too much.” She said something to him in Russian then, and he laughed, and Simon laughed too, as Zoya realized he had understood her. “That's not fair!” She had told him that his hair was too long, and he looked like a large lovably shaggy dog. But Nicholas was suddenly interested in Simon as they stood on the dock together.
“So you speak Russian, sir?”
“A little bit. My parents are from Vladivostok. My mother used to say things like that to me