Walking down the Champs-Elysees was something Lieutenant Richard Reiben thought he would never do. Something he just could not afford. But here he was, strolling down one of the most famous streets in the world, and for the next forty-eight hours, not a care in the world.

His Captain had kindly given him two days leave to enjoy himself after his performance in the liberation of Florence. The troops had reached the 'Gothic Line', the last German strategic position in North Italy, which, in Reiben's mind, was one step closer to home.

Autumn was soon approaching but the weather remained pleasantly warm. Reiben sat himself down at a table in a small cafe and ordered a coffee. He hadn't had real coffee for so long he had almost forgotten the taste.

'If only Ma could see this, she'd love it here.' He thought.

He silently drank his coffee and watched the world go past him. How war had changed him. Yes he was still the wise arse he used to be, according to his Captain, but he had seen things that he would never forget for the rest of his life. He saw things that he thought a human could not have possibly been responsible for. Those sorts of things humbled a man, made him year for the simple things in life. When he got out of this god forsaken war, he would find a girl, bring up a family and not have to ever hold a gun again. He wanted a boring life. One where he could watch his children grow and play ball with his son.

It was funny, before he enlisted all he wanted was to get out of Brooklyn and find adventure. He was sure he would find it here, but how wrong he was. Reiben had lost all of his friends and now he was alone. Of course he had become good buddies with the men in his division but he missed Mellish, Caparzo, Talbert and Beazley. They were all brothers, brothers in arms. And now, he was the only one left. He shook his head, trying to rid the faces that were burned into his memory. No, he would never forget those faces.

He stood to leave the cafe, chucking some silver on the table for the waiter. He walked down to the Seine and watched as couples walked hand in hand, rejoicing in their new found freedom. Reiben was caught up in Paris fever, he couldn't get enough of the place. He didn't want the day to end.

All the sudden Reiben bumped into something solid. His eyes averted from the river to the young girl sprawled on the foot path. The world around him seemed to stop. His eyes couldn't move from the beautiful girl before him. She was gorgeous with her waves of blonde hair swept back into an elegant bun. Her large brown eyes looked up at him with apprehension as he offered his hand.

'I'm so sorry,' Reiben apologised. 'I wasn't watching where I was going, sorry.'

'That's alright, just a tumble is all.' The girl said in a shy voice as she pulled herself up from the floor.

'Are you hurt?'

'Oh no, thank you.' She replied smiling at him. And what a smile it was, her full red lips curving up towards her porcelain cheeks.

'Good.' Reiben couldn't seem to get the words out of his mouth. He had always been a smooth talker, especially when it came to the ladies. He had grown up in a lingerie boutique after all.

'Well – '

'My – '

They both laughed as they went to speak at the same time.

'My name's Richard, Richard Reiben.' Reiben claimed as he held out his hand once more.

'Nice to meet you Mr Reiben.' She shook his hand.

'Please call me Richard.'

She smiled once more

'Well I have to get going, can't be late. It was nice to meet you Richard.'

'Wait!' Reiben placed a hand in the crook of her arm. 'I didn't catch your name.'

'That's because I didn't give it.' The girl looked wide eyed at him.

'Right...' he said disappointedly, not knowing what to say next.

She looked up at him and stretching out her hand said 'My name's Abigail Bennett.'

'Nice to meet you Miss Bennett.' He smiled at her and noted she did not correct him. And with polite smile she turned and walked away from the lieutenant.

Reiben shook his head. Here was a beautiful girl and he couldn't even get a line in. He wanted, not wanted – had to see her again. Everything about Abigail was intoxicating. Her smile was the brightest he'd ever seen, and it looked as if it carried mischief and secrets. It lured him hook, line and sinker. And her blonde hair looked soft, so soft he wanted to run his fingers through it. He was sure it would feel like silk. Her eyes! Those eyes made of chocolate wouldn't let him find peace without her.

She had a certain grace to her as well. Abigail carried herself with elegance and refined beauty. Something he had never seen in the girls he had courted before.

He had to find her, he had to see her again. But how?