Chapter 17

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A/N -- Dearest, sweet Beatle people--I'm still recovering from BeatleFest and decided the only thing that would help would be to write about George! So here's the next installment

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

A/N -- Dearest, sweet Beatle people--I'm still recovering from BeatleFest and decided the only thing that would help would be to write about George! So here's the next installment. The girls visit Hamburg, Ingrid is on the prowl and George and Kate have a wonderful homecoming. Let's hope it lasts! Enjoy! love, Lara xoxo


She was young and inexperienced. Vladimir rebuffed himself for jumping the gun on her. He had gotten way ahead of himself. Kate was right. His lips should have stayed off hers. But she didn't know what she did to him. Feelings churned inside him that even at 26, with many conquests under his belt, he hadn't felt before. She somehow made him miss home, miss the hugs from his mother and pats on the back from his father, the teasing from his brothers and sisters. The only way to alleviate the yearning was to kiss her. It felt like warmth and security and lessened the feelings of denied passion and hunger. She made him need her; her presence that nurtured him, her touch that silenced his pain.

He acknowledged and appreciated her honesty about her "fiancée", but they were 2 teenagers in the middle of mad puppy love and he knew how fleeting that could be. He traveled to Kiev from Moscow alone at the tender age of 13 to study piano and by the time he was 18, couldn't remember how many girls he had pined over, loved and lost.

Kate was different from all of them and he wanted her so badly, she invaded his dreams every night, but he somehow managed to keep his code of conduct. He wouldn't tell her his feelings until she was 18 and free to make her own decisions. It seemed ridiculous in a way that one day would make any difference to her emotional growth---one day she was 17, the next day 18---but there had to be some rules.

Vladimir mulled over how and what he would say to her to express his feelings. In person? In a letter? Ask her out on a date? He liked coming up to the attic to think. It was quiet, secluded and private. Then it hit him. He knew exactly what to do.

....................................

May 1, 1961

Dearest Katie,

All is well here. Usual. Got your letter today and had to ask if you got one from me a few days ago? I had some questions that you didn't answer so maybe the letters crossed in the mail.

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