Page 31 of It Happened In Paris

“What? But I saw you hug her.” I protested, not ready to forgive.

“So? My family has known her and her husband a long time. I sought counseling from her after I called off my wedding to Janet because I recognized I was in trouble. She’s helped me sort through a lot.”

I glanced between them, trying to process his words.

“Listen, just because I’m wealthy doesn’t mean I don’t have my own problems. Mental and physical health are vital. And ever since you and Paris came into my life, I’ve needed?—”

“I get it. We’ve been too much for you, haven’t we? Paris’ diagnosis is a lot to deal with, and you’ve stepped in, even offering to donate a kidney, which you didn’t have to. And now it’s causing you too much stress.” I suddenly felt terrible about how much our situation must be weighing on him, so much that he required his therapist. Then again, I could probably use one, too.

“Stop. I can handle that. What I can’t handle are the missing pieces of our first night together in Paris.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not only a therapist but a practicing hypnotherapist, too. Richard called me so we could work together to recover the memories that are missing for him... aboutyou,” the doctor explained, just as Richard finally closed the distance between us.

“I was drugged that night, Vivian. I think the bartender slipped something into my drink at Club Aces. Why, I don’t know? I have my suspicions.”

“Drugged?” She shook her head. “I’d heard Adrien’s parties were always a little wild. It wouldn’t surprise me.”

“But the point is that my memories of our first night together are fragmented. The session ran longer than I expected. I’m sorry I missed saying goodnight to Paris. I promise I’ll be there when she wakes up in the morning.” Richard ran his hands down my arms, his eyes pleading for me to understand.

“But Richard, if you really wanted to know everything about our night in Paris, you could have just asked me.”

“I tried to tell him that, but Buchanan’s can be a stubborn lot,” the doctor interjected with a knowing smirk. “It could take two or more sessions for your memory to improve with hypnotherapy. Or one discussion with Vivian. It’s up to you. Either way, I’m heading back to the city. Call me if you’d like to schedule another session.”

With that, she slipped into the car and left. Richard gently took my hand and led me into the lobby, stopping just inside the threshold. “I know I could have asked you. And I will—but hearing a story isn’t the same as reliving it. I want to remember everything, to know exactly how it felt to kiss you for the first time under the Eiffel Tower.”

Stunned couldn’t begin to describe my reaction to this news. “That moment was incredibly special to me.”

“I recall things in fragments, but not the entire picture. Like kissing. I remember kissing a lot, but not our veryfirstkiss—the way your lips might have warmed to mine and how my heart would have leapt out of my skin at the first touch of you. And pretty much everything we did in my bed at the hotel—gone.” He pressed a lock of my hair back off my face.

“Oh, Richard…” A tear welled up at how sad it was he couldn’t share the same appreciation for our night together.

“I recall one thing clearly, though. How you took my breath away the first time I saw you entering Club Aces, because you were so beautiful. I don’t think you know what simply looking at you does to me every day.” he whispered.

I shook my head. “You could have anything in the world you want, but hiring a hypnotist to dredge up memories of our first kiss? That’s so… so…”

“Silly, I know. I should have just asked you.” He turned and headed toward the elevator, but I caught up, stopping him in histracks. I didn’t care that we were in the middle of the lobby with the night desk clerk eyeing us. Every moment counted now.

“If you’d let me finish, I was going to say that it’s incredibly romantic,” I explained, imploring him with my eyes.

“Yeah? More than a first kiss in Paris?”

“I think everything you’ve done this past week qualifies as romantic. And by the way, taking care of your mental health isn’t silly. I’ve never met a man quite like you.”

“Actually, you have met me before, and that’s the whole point. Things could have been so different between us. I want to go back in time and do it all over again, but better. Unfortunately, there haven’t been enough modern advances in time travel.” He chuckled, and wrapped his arms around me. “All I know is, I want you, Vivian.”

In that instant, the deep pull of longing that I’d been too afraid to acknowledge until now took over.

“Yes, Richard, I want you too.” I ran my hands over his chest, clutching his shirt as if I’d lose him, but I couldn’t, not now, maybe never. “Kiss me.” I pulled him closer.

He murmured my name against my forehead, his full lips brushing softly there. My pulse raced with more feathery kisses landing along my cheek and jaw before he captured my mouth.

With the searing heat of pent-up desire, my heart thundered in my chest, almost tearing itself apart in its fervor. The kiss was raw, and charged with the electricity of words left unspoken for too long. I desperately hoped his heart mirrored mine.

He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, as if seeing the truth between us. “Hell, yes. I feel it now.” He pulled me into his world, our tongues colliding in a fiery dance of exploration and need. As we plunged deeper into the passionate kiss, it left me breathless, dizzy with desire. I half expected to look up and see the Eiffel Tower magically lighting up again above us.

Suddenly, an angry voice shattered our special moment.

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