Blame It on Paris by Jennifer Greene

his lap, with her head under his chin. His right thigh muscle was falling asleep. He didn’t care.
    â€œMaybe,” he said, “that’s really why you came to Paris.”
    â€œWhat do you mean? I couldn’t possibly have known about my dad.”
    â€œNo. But you had questions about your life, right? You were looking for something. You knew something wasn’t right at home.” Like the fiancé, Will thought. But she’d gotten touchy when he brought up the creep before, so he didn’t want to mention him again.
    â€œMaybe I did. In fact, I think you’re right.”
    â€œYe gods. A woman who admitted a man was right?”
    She cocked her head back, nearly cracking his chin. “Don’t rub it in. You’re next.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, I’m next?”
    â€œI mean…maybe I landed in your life at this specific time for a reason, too.”
    â€œYeah. Fabulous luck.”
    She kissed him. Clearly reluctantly. But she couldn’t let the compliment pass, and even after a long, long lip suck, that elephantine memory came back. “Maybe fate brought us together because we were both meant to solve our father issues.”
    â€œI’ll go along with the fate thing. But I think fate had incredible sex on its mind. That we’d find each other for this moment of time. And it’d be earth-shatteringly fantastic.”
    â€œOkay,” she murmured. “That, too.” And did the lip-suck thing again. “Will?”
    â€œWhat now?”
    â€œI’m so hungry I can’t think. And it’s been an awful day.”
    â€œSo you want to—”
    â€œMake love,” she finished, as if that made perfect sense to her.
    It did to him, too.
    Â 
    W HEN K ELLY WOKE up the next morning, the impossibly bright sun matched her mood perfectly. In spite of everything, she’d slept like a child, one of those healing, safe sleeps that renewed her spirits.
    And that was a good thing, because nerves promptly gnawed on her conscience the instant she sat up. What should she do about her father? How was she going to handle Jason? What should she say to her mother? What should she do next? Why had her mom never told her the truth? Was there one thing in her life that made sense anymore?
    So much for a restful night’s sleep. The whole mess was overwhelming. She sank back against the pillows and pulled the sheet over her head.
    A few minutes later, though, she felt the sheet being tugged off her. Will was standing naked with a skillet in his hand. The aroma reached her even before she saw the contents. Technically, breakfast was just scrambled eggs, but he’d added herbs and cheese. “Coffee, too.”
    â€œAm I still dreaming, or did you turn into a hero while I was sleeping?”
    â€œYou’re not still dreaming. It’s me. Your hero.” But he looked at her hard before teasing any further. “Yeah, I figured you’d be chewing your fingernails before even getting out of bed, Ms. Guilt Queen. So come on. I’m serving breakfast on the balcony. And after that, I have a plan.”
    â€œI’d follow that cute butt anywhere,” she told him.
    â€œDon’t embarrass me before breakfast.”
    â€œYou’re walking around naked. Is it even possible to embarrass you?” It was easy to tease him, yet Kelly still felt a headache threatening behind her temples. Her whole spirit felt trounced from yesterday’s revelations. Or maybe from the whole week of traumas. Five days. She’d been in Paris five days.
    In those five short days, she’d lost her identity—physically and emotionally. She’d been mugged. She’d lost the life she’d had. She’d taken an irrepressible, unforgettable lover, when she’d never been the kind of woman to “take lovers.” Or even to find lovers.
    Will set down the tray on the metal table on the bitsy balcony before he even seemed