Reunited...in Paris!

‘You are Monsieur and Madame Wells? We were told to book you into one of our best suites. It has two bedrooms, two bathrooms, views out across the city. What more can you want?’ The receptionist looked perplexed.

Tori asked, ‘Is there another room available?’

‘Yes, we have a single room on the third floor.’

‘That will do nicely.’

Ben shook his head. ‘Tori, the apartment has two bedrooms so it’s not as though we’ll be sharing everything.’

She shook her head. She’d feel his presence even with her bedroom door shut, would be straining to hear him moving about, and wanting to talk to him. Wondering how he felt about her now that he knew about the baby that they’d lost.

‘Okay, I’ll take the third-floor room.’ Ben shrugged. ‘The one with the view of the back of a building.’ He actually smiled of his own free will. ‘While you have the views of Paris with the iconic sights.’

‘Dirty tactics,’ she replied, trying to bite down on the smile that was threatening to break out. Hard to be down in this city.

‘Of course.’ He seemed to be waiting for her to make up her mind.

She’d love those views. How could she banish Ben to the basement, so to speak? It wasn’t as though he’d made the booking for them. No, Monsieur Leclare had undertaken to find them a very good hotel with very good rooms. What the heck? She’d give the suite a go and if the situation became too difficult or tense she’d find another room or hotel. Who knew? Now that there were no secrets between them, it might be the catalyst needed to get them back together. If that was at all possible. There were times when she thought it was, then yesterday and today she’d known it wasn’t. ‘Come on. Let’s go upstairs to our suite and dump our bags. Paris is waiting.’

The city of love. Tori hummed the words over and over as she wandered along the bank of the Seine. More than once she caught herself reaching for Ben’s hand, wanting to entwine her fingers between his, pulling back just before her fingers touched him. Unsurprisingly, his mood hadn’t thawed that much.

‘Let’s go down one of those narrow streets and find a café where we can enjoy a drink on the sidewalk while people-watching.’ Ben was already heading for the other side of the street.

‘Good idea,’ she muttered at his back.

Within moments they’d found a line of cafés and Tori happily sank onto a chair at a minuscule table out in the sun. ‘This is what I always dreamt Paris would be like.’

Ben bought sparkling water and beer with cheese sticks before joining her. ‘I’ve been in Paris twice but never done this.’

‘You’re joking.’ How could anyone not do this?

‘It wouldn’t have been half the fun on my own.’ There was no hidden meaning in his voice, though maybe a hint of sadness.

‘I don’t know. There’d be so much going on you’d have to be enthralled.’ Listening in on a French couple’s conversation at the next table, she sighed with contentment and leaned close to Ben. ‘He’s told her the car needs a new battery.’ She grinned. ‘How’s that? I understood him.’

Ben shook his head at her. ‘You’ve come all this way to eavesdrop on some poor, unsuspecting guy’s talk with his wife?’

‘Absolutely.’ Sipping her water, she continued listening in.

‘When did you give up drinking alcohol?’

She spluttered water down her front. ‘After the miscarriage.’ She lifted imploring eyes to him. Can we leave it at that? But deep down she knew it was something they needed to talk about, in order to move forwards.

‘You’re not blaming your drinking for the miscarriage?’ Shock resonated between them.

Splutter. At this rate she’d spray most of her water over the pavement and get little down her throat. ‘Yes. Of course I am.’

‘You can’t say categorically the alcohol was the cause. It could’ve been nature, or the immense strain you were under, no thanks to me.’ Ben wasn’t holding back. Had the atmosphere of the city of love touched him, loosened his tongue? Or had learning of their baby make him think he was free to talk about anything and everything?

‘I realised that I’d been drinking to numb myself, instead of talking to you about how I was feeling.’ The glass shook in her hand as she tried to gulp some water. ‘If I’d even suspected I was pregnant I’d never have touched a drop.’

‘It must have been awful, Tori. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you. I suspected you were drinking too much, but I turned a blind eye, because I knew I was the cause of you being so unhappy.’ She could only stare at him and shake her head at the fact that it had taken Ben a while to truly understand that hurt.

‘Tori? Have I gone too far?’

‘Yes.’ This was making her sad, which was the last thing she wanted. ‘Look, Ben, how about we leave the past alone and make the most of being here? Nothing contentious to be discussed.’ She was afraid they’d have another meltdown and she didn’t want that happening here. Or anywhere, if she thought about it.

‘Deal.’

* * *

Ben stretched his legs out under the table, sipped his beer, fully aware of the hangover only just fading away, and aimed for relaxed. It wasn’t easy. He wanted to be with Tori, but he still hadn’t been able to get the baby out of his head, and, worse, Tori’s deception still rankled. He knew he had to get past that. One day at a time had just become his new motto. He was more than happy to comply with Tori’s edict. The past could stay there—for now. Digging into that brought up live bombs he had no idea how to defuse without carnage. So the next few days were about moving forward and finally letting Tori go. It didn’t seem so impossible now, as any idea of trying to make a go of their relationship had gone out the window yesterday.

Thank goodness they both had their own agendas to get back to. This was only an interlude. Tori had too much at stake with so many children relying on her. He’d focus on working towards that partnership he desperately needed to prove to himself he was better than that cocky surgeon he’d been, stuffing up so badly in Auckland. Nothing short of a partnership in the clinic at Harley Street would make him happy. It was there, dangling in front of him so he could almost taste it. He just had to be patient.

‘Where have you gone?’ Tori peered at him through her sunshades.

‘Taking a break from thinking,’ he fibbed.

‘What shall we do tonight?’

‘Wait and see.’ He’d booked them a table for dinner on a river boat so they could see the city at night. A relaxed way to finish their day. ‘Dress in your evening finery, that’s all I’m saying.’

Her eyes lit up with fun. ‘When did you plan whatever we’re doing?’

‘Before we checked out of the hotel this morning.’ Even when he’d still been angry with her he’d still wanted to make her time in Paris special. Had he gone soft in the head? Probably.

‘Thank you.’ Her hand was warm on his.

The river cruise turned out to be fun and beautiful and romantic. Ben hadn’t factored in dancing on the deck to a five-piece orchestra. With Tori in his arms he could’ve stayed there all night. He hadn’t allowed for her looking stunning in a cream, fitted dress that stopped short of her knees, highlighting her slim legs and all those gorgeous curves. He hadn’t considered how he might have to control his runaway hormones and the deep, almost crippling need to make love to her.

‘I can’t believe I’m here,’ Tori whispered, as he led her around a couple who’d stopped to kiss. ‘With you,’ she added.

This was so not how he’d planned on winding up their relationship for good. ‘It is magic,’ he agreed, because it would be rude not to. And he couldn’t think of anything else to say without spoiling her mood.

Warmth brushed his neck. Tori had kissed him—on that exact spot just under his chin that always turned him on fast. D

eliberately? Had she remembered? Why would she? Why wouldn’t she?

The boat nudged against the wharf. With a dry mouth and thudding heart he put her away from him. It was midnight. ‘Come on, Cinderella, time we were back at the hotel.’ The hotel where they shared a suite of opulent rooms and the same air. Not that Tori would ever turn into anything remotely resembling a pumpkin but he had all his fingers crossed he didn’t turn into an idiot with a pole in the front of his trousers hindering his walking back to the hotel.

As they stepped onto land Tori slid her hand into his and cuddled closer. Damn woman, how can I remain impervious to you? You are such a turn-on.

‘What time are we expected at the medical school tomorrow?’ he asked in a pathetic attempt to quieten his racing heart.

Her head twisted against his arm as she glanced up at him. ‘Nine o’clock.’ Her smile zoomed straight to his toes, scorching every inch of his body on the way past, and did nothing to help his situation. ‘I know you haven’t forgotten. You forget nothing.’

‘I forgot your birthday once.’ Would that cool the air?