“Catherine, is it –” a jaw-stretching yawn jumbled his words – “midnight yet?”

She rolled from his arms and squinted at the clock on her bedside table. “Not yet.” She snuggled back into the place in the world she loved best. “It’s almost 11:30.”

“Good.” He pressed a kiss into her tousled hair. “We shouldn’t miss it, the start of a new year.”

“I will always think of April 12th as our personal new year.” She felt the silky fur covering his chest caress her cheek as he murmured a sigh, “Yes…” and the sensation warmed her within and without. “But, Vincent, I love celebrating the official new year with you, too.”

“Our first one together.” He cuddled her closer. “I was wondering…”

“About what?”

“About what we might be doing if somehow we were able to go out into the city tonight, to celebrate as other…lovers…do.”

She took a deep breath. “Like we did on Saowen. Such a magical night.”

“Yes.” He held her tighter. “Tell me about it. Tell me what happens tonight in your world.”

“Well, first of all, you are my world.” She felt the smile she couldn’t see curve his unique mouth. “But there are many things we might do if we were to leave the apartment – not that I want to!”

He laughed softly. “Nor do I. But I still wonder what it might be like.”

“Then, I’ll tell you.” She wriggled out of his embrace and propped herself up on a mound of pillows. Looking down into his sparkling eyes, she felt as if she were a storyteller about to offer a gift of discovery to an enthralled audience of one. “We could go to a party.”

“A party?”

She nodded. “We’d dress in fancy, formal clothes – you’d look so handsome in a tux – and there would be dancing, probably to a live group, lots of lively conversation, amazing food, and at midnight, we’d –”

“Sing Auld Lang Syne and toast the New Year with champagne!”

She gave him a raised-eyebrow look. “You’ve been chatting with Peter again, right?”

“I have.” He grinned up at her. “So, I already know a bit about New Year’s Eve parties. What else could we do?”

“Let’s see. We could go to Times Square and stand in the crowd and count down the seconds as we watch the ball drop.”

“The one covered in red and green lights to resemble an apple?”

Smiling, she rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure that’s the only one that they have. But how did you know?”

“Cullen was talking about it at dinner last night. The Big Apple New Year’s Eve event. He made it sound quite spectacular.”

“I suppose it is, but standing there in a press of thousands of people – most of whom have been celebrating way too hard and too long – has never appealed to me.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “I prefer a crowd made up of only two…”

“I agree.” He tilted his head in the way he knew always sent quivers through her. “So, if we are skipping a big party and a trip to Times Square, is there anything else we might do Above on New Year’s Eve?”

She frowned slightly as she pretended to contemplate his question. “Well, there is something else, but I think only part of it would be different from what you’ve always done. When you celebrate Below, you probably do a countdown to midnight, right?”

He nodded. “We do.”

“And at the stroke of twelve, you all shout Happy New Year!”

“We do that, too.”

“So it looks like some traditions do blur the lines from one place to another.” Seeing a look of disappointment begin to cloud his face, she made him wait only a few seconds. “But there’s one thing you don’t have – fireworks!”

He chuckled. “No, we most certainly don’t. But here – Above – we can see fireworks on New Year’s Eve? How is that possible?”

“They’re set off in the park every year around midnight. If we go out on the balcony, we can watch them. And we can even hear the countdown and cheering. It should all start in less than half an hour.”

He scrambled from the bed and began gathering his scattered clothing. “That sounds amazing! Can you imagine seeing fireworks without leaving your apartment?”

“You know, I think I can.” She didn’t try to suppress a smile as he looked back at her. “In fact, I’ve already seen quite a few tonight…” She patted the rumpled sheets. “Haven’t you?”

A grin lit his face as he dropped his clothing to the floor and plummeted back into bed beside her. “I have – but not nearly enough.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “It’s only 11:40. Not yet midnight, but I think we can manage a countdown of our own right now, can’t we?”

His answer was a throaty growl as he pulled her into his arms. “Ten…”

She draped herself over his hard-muscled length. “Nine…”

He slid his hands downward from the nape of her neck and urged her forward for a fiery kiss just before rasping, “Eight…”

With surprising strength, she rolled onto her back, easily drawing him with her to nestle into her softness. “Seven…”

Bracing himself on his arms, he gasped, “Six…”

She tried to pant, “Five…” but found better use for her energy. Much better use.

And that put an end to their New Year’s Eve countdown.

But not to their fireworks…