Reunited...in Paris!

His shirt flew across the room. His trousers followed. Then he was back, reclaiming her mouth, his body pressing hers into the mattress. His erection was heavy evidence of how much he wanted this, if nothing else.

Then she was being lifted and the zip at the back of her dress was being tugged down. She stood to shuck out of the silk and stood before him in her lacy black bra and thong, and suspenders with black stockings. She’d gone all out, hoping when she shouldn’t have that they’d end up here sometime tonight. It had been a long time since she’d worn lingerie as exquisite as this. Seven years, in fact.

‘Tori, oh...’ Ben’s hands were gentle yet demanding as they touched her breasts, her stomach, thighs with a familiar caress that brought back happy memories of stolen moments between shifts, of making out in their massive super-king-sized bed. ‘You’re so beautiful.’ His tongue was raspy on her skin, heightening the already tight, ready-to-spring-apart feelings dominating her mind and soul. ‘I remember this. I’ve never forgotten.’

Now she was confused. Had he insisted on ‘Ben’ and not ‘Benji’ to keep in control? Heat shot through her from that tongue, those fingers stroking her in places that had forgotten what making love was all about, places that remembered instantly and came alive too fast. Thinking just became impossible. ‘I have to have you. Now, Ben.’

Ben’s growl was primal as he slipped on a condom, then pulled her close, skin to skin for the length of their bodies. His hands were on her waist when she lifted her legs up and around his body. Guiding him inside her, she gasped at the feel of his shaft touching her moist core. Lowering farther, she took him in, inch by hot inch until she had him all.

‘Hell, Tori, you’re killing me.’ He lifted her so he was free, then drove back in, hard and fast, again and again.

And far too quickly Tori exploded, shattering into a million pieces as he reclaimed her. How could she have gone so long without this? Without Benji in her life? In her body?

Tori knew the exact moment Ben left her bed. He was stealthy in his actions, slowly rolling over and sitting up, pausing, then standing and crossing the room. She didn’t open her eyes, didn’t want to see him leaving her. Refused to beg him to return to bed and hold her.

He’d turn her down anyway. It had been when they had made love the second time, lying across the bed and taking longer to explore each other’s bodies, that she’d realised that while Ben’s lovemaking was intense he wasn’t totally with her, not in sync with her thoughts and emotions. Not like Benji used to make love to her.

That’s when she understood she’d lost him, if she’d ever had him, and that she’d been wishing for a rainbow these past days. So she’d held on and tried to stamp every touch and kiss and caress firmly onto her brain to take out later and cherish. It had been hard but she’d refused to let her disappointment turn to hurt and then to anger. Instead, she’d lapped up the loving and then lain curled up against him for the last hour of the night.

The bathroom door clicked firmly shut and then the shower ran for a long time. Washing her off his skin?

Pain hit her in the chest, nearly stalling her heart. Rolling onto her back Tori stared at the ceiling, her fists pushing into her thighs as she fought the longing for Ben, the need to climb into the shower with him, to hold him—for ever. But she had her pride. It was stretched very thin, but it was there.

She did not want to see his rejection in those sombre eyes. She’d break down in front of him if she did. That would have to wait until she was alone.

Ben was going. She knew that with absolute certainty. The pain gnawing at her muscles, her stomach and her heart told her that. She’d finally had the guts to tell him about their baby and in doing so she’d lost him. If she’d ever had him. She’d probably been fooling herself to even think there had been a remote possibility of them getting back together. He’d been distant since Nice. Sure, he’d been friendly and prepared to have fun doing things around Paris, but she’d felt his distance. Last night had been special, and she’d worked hard to ignore what had been going on with Ben, to the point she’d fooled herself.

And now she had to face the glaring truth. Getting back with Benji was never going to happen.

The bathroom door opened.

She rolled onto her side, facing away from the door. She couldn’t breathe and it seemed an age before she heard Ben again. She thought he’d come into her room but she couldn’t be certain. Everything went absolutely quiet for a long time then she heard soft footsteps on the carpet and it sounded as though something had been placed on the bedside table on the other side of the bed.

A whisper she couldn’t decipher.

Footsteps going away, leaving her.

The entrance door opening, clicking shut.

The absolute silence of an empty apartment. Empty except for her. A sound she was familiar with. The pain and loneliness she’d known a long time back.

Hot, scalding tears covered her face, drenched the pillow.

Her body began to shake.

A scream tore up her throat. She clamped her mouth shut, swallowed hard. She would not let it out.

Tori cried and cried and cried until there was nothing left inside her. Then, exhausted, she fell into a restless sleep.

When she woke again it was after midday. Why hadn’t the cleaning staff woken her when they’d come in? Who cared? She certainly didn’t.

Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she turned and saw a folded sheet of the thick hotel paper on her bedside table.

Her fingers shook as she picked it up. ‘What have you got to say to me, Ben? Thanks, have a great day? Sorry, but we shouldn’t have? No, not that, please.’

It would be easier to ignore the note, leave it and take a long, hot shower, before deciding on her next move.

But it would eat at her, and there’d be no peace until she’d read Ben’s last message.

Straightening her back, she snapped open the page and read with a thudding heart.

Dear Tori

I’m heading back to London on an early flight. I didn’t want to wake you, considering the little sleep you’ve had. You need your energy for sightseeing.

‘Yeah, right. Like I want to do that now.’

Tori, I’m glad I had this time with you. All of it, including last night. But it is time to go. I’ve learned that we weren’t meant to get back together. Even if we wanted to give it another go I can’t give up my career when I have yet to prove myself, and I’d never ask you to leave your clinic.

Take care, sweetheart. You’ve done so well and I’m su

re I’ll be reading more about the Heart Lady.

Hugs, Ben.

‘Thanks for nothing, Ben, Benji, or whoever the hell you are.’

The pain had gone. She felt numb. She could not feel her heart as it splintered into a thousand pieces. She would not laugh at herself for having been foolish enough to think she and Ben might be able to overcome the past.

Screwing up the page, she threw it at the bin and shuffled into the bathroom and stood under the shower for so long her skin resembled a prune when she turned off the water.

Applying her make-up wasn’t easy with her face blotchy and swollen but she persevered and eventually looked half-decent. After drinking the strong coffee she’d ordered from room service she headed out, surprised at the ‘Don’t Disturb’ sign hanging on the outside of the door.

‘Caring to the last.’

Slipping into the crowds filling Paris, Tori knew that sitting in her hotel suite, feeling sorry for herself, for the next three days was not an option.

This was her dream city and she would see all she could cram in before getting on the big tin bird and flying home. Back to reality.

* * *

Ben almost literally felt his heart crack as he boarded his flight at Charles de Gaulle Airport. No matter he’d known he’d be leaving Tori to return to his life in London, he still wasn’t prepared. It wasn’t as though he felt free again. Nowhere near free. Hopefully that’d come as he settled back into the demands of the clinic.

On board he was deaf to the announcements from the flight crew, blind to the other people around him, only vaguely aware of the plane hurtling along the runway and lifting into the turbulent summer air.

Staring out the window, he saw nothing as the plane flew across the Channel. Nothing except the running film in his brain.

Tori laughing. Tori under him, her face filled with need and ecstasy. Tori. The guilt turning her eyes dark and her mouth tight as she talked about the baby.

She should’ve told him at the time she’d miscarried. No matter that he hadn’t been spilling his guts about what had been going on in his life. That baby had been theirs, not hers. A baby was life-changing. Losing it had made an impact on Tori. That was apparent in her voice, in her eyes, with the gentle touching of the gold bracelet she’d had made in remembrance of their child.