Page 15 of It Happened In Paris

Acoste immediately arranged a private room for Paris. I insisted that her entire hospital stay be charged to my black card, but he declined, stating that the donation covered the best care they could provide. Not stopping there, I demanded that the other family sharing the current room also have all their expenses handled by the hospital.

At my command, my accountant transferred the funds for the research project without delay. I left Acoste with one final warning: “Dr. Handle seems rather handsy. I suggest youreplace him with someone more professional before you have a misconduct lawsuit on your hands.”

Acoste’s face paled to an unhealthy shade of white. I headed back downstairs, satisfied that I had done everything possible to improve the situation for Vivian and Paris.

When I returned to the room, the nursing staffanda new doctor were hustling to move us to a private room, expediting the testing and blood transfusion process immediately.

While Vivian prepared Paris with a talk about the transfusion procedure, an attempt at keeping her calm about it, I paced the hall. I texted Rex full details for Chelsea about Paris’ condition, unsure when they’d see it.

Vivian made no comment about the room upgrade and speed at which things were happening until I was finally hooked up to the machine that would process my blood for Paris.

“I know you must have done something to get us in here and push things along. I’m not sure whether I should be thankful or angry at you for interfering,” Vivian whispered, sitting beside me and leaning in close so the nurse wouldn’t overhear.

“I’d prefer your thanks, but it’s really unnecessary. I’d do anything to help you,” I insisted.

“We would have managed fine without your involvement, you know,” she said, crossing her arms and legs as her foot twitched nervously—a gesture that only deepened my respect for her independence. Not that it was a test, but if it were, Vivian aced it—whereas my ex had used my money and influence to extremes, leaving me wary of women’s motives when it came to my family’s fortune.

“I have zero doubts you would have survived. You’re a fighter, Vivian—anyone can see that.” For every second she’d had to go it alone as a single mother in this world, I respected her. “But I vowed to look after you while Rex and Chelsea areaway. I’m certain if my brother were here, he’d have done the same as I have.”

“Maybe. I’m not so sure.”

“We’re family now, aren’t we? Buchanans take care of their own.” I leaned on our loose familial connection for a moment to draw her in.

She cocked her head. “I’m just Chelsea’s cousin. I don’t know that it qualifies me and Paris for your undivided attention today.”

“Oh, it definitely does.” I held back a smile, amused by her remark, as she slid over to where Paris waited for my blood. Vivian had captured my interest in more ways than mere thin family ties, more than even I could comprehend. I wasn’t so sure she felt the same, though.

The nurse attached a finger monitor and instantly my pulse displayed on a screen. Paris waved at me from her bed, and I waved back and gave a thumbs up. She giggled and put a thumb up back. What a little sweetheart.

Between her and her mother, any man would be lucky to call them his daughter and his wife—but the idea of another man beside them…? My free hand gripped the armrest too tight—Isuddenly wanted to be that man.

“Sir, try to relax. Your pulse is getting overworked about something,” the nurse monitoring me admonished while the beeping sped up on the screen beside me.

“Sorry. I don’t know why,” I murmured. I rested my head back and squeezed my eyes shut, inhaling and exhaling, willing the beeping to slow back down. Once it did, I opened my eyes again—to Vivian’s concerned face beside me.

“Is everything okay, Richard? You’re flushed,” she said, placing a hand on my forearm. The beeping sped faster again as her touch set off fireworks up and down my arm.

“Yeah. Fine. This, er, always happens to me when I donate blood. No need to worry. Go on back to Paris.” I nodded with a reassuring smile, hoping I covered up the fact that my pulse lost it’s damn rhythm because it was her, simply standing there, making my body go crazy.

“Your heart rate is uh… rather responsive to certain people in the room,” the nurse snickered.

“No. Probably just nerves.”

“Right. We can go with that if you want. But the machine never lies,” she winked, glancing at the screen, then at me, amused.

I cleared my throat and closed my eyes again, gathering my composure, but my body betrayed me.

7

MY THING

VIVIAN

As Paris restedafter the transfusion, the smile on her face appeared happier than I’d seen her since this entire ordeal began. Although tired, her dive into a lively conversation with Richard about the Amazon River melted my heart. As much as my six-year-old could talk with a man of Richard’s age, I silently wondered why Adrien couldn’t have been a better father to her like this.

Anytime I thought of Richard over the years, he was a youngish thirty something, maybe. Now, perhaps pushing forty? I couldn’t tell, but his worldly experiences, his handsome good looks, his wealth, his designer spicy cologne… all of him screamedDaddyto me in a very, very good way.

Admittedly, older men were my thing… not that I was wondering about my “thing” given my daughter’s situation right now. With Richard in proximity since we arrived in Albany, though, memories of our one night in Paris had been hard to keep at bay. It was special to me, even if he claimed to recall little of it.

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