Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story wouldn't be what it is without my wonderful beta, The Real Teacher, holding my hand and correcting my many errors. Thank you so much!

Pictures of all sights, people, clothes and vehicles mentioned in this chapter can be found on my blog as soon as I can get blogger to behave and post the pictures. The link is on my profile page.

Chapter 11 – The City of Love

Or how I came to the conclusion that being a gentleman was going to be much harder than I thought it would be…literally.

"So let me get this straight, mon ami," Laurent looked as baffled as I felt, swirling the amber liquid inside his glass. "A beautiful woman just asked you to make love to her and yet you're sitting here with me?"

He shook his head as I nodded mutely, downing his drink in one huge gulp before turning back to me. "Incroyable! What is wrong with you?"

I growled, burying my hands in my hair. "It's complicated."

"C'est l'amour," Laurent shrugged. "Why aren't you out there enjoying it?"

I scowled. "She needs time."

Laurent leaned back against the bar, his long dreadlocks swishing over his shoulder as he twisted his neck to look at me over those ridiculous sunglasses he always wore, even when it was the mid-winter and he was indoors. "Did she tell you she needed time?"

My scowl deepened. "No, but…."

"Was there anything in the way she acted that told you she didn't desire to fait l'amour?"

"Not at that moment, no," I answered, trying to stave off the memories of Bella's hot lips on mine and the way her firm body felt in my hands before a 'situation' would arise.

I could see I had his attention now, his head cocked to the side and his glasses sliding even further down his nose as he looked at me. "Expliquez-moi."

I sighed. "Bella….she's really special to me and when we do come together I want her to feel that in every touch, every gesture and every kiss. I want it to be more than just two people giving into temptation because they know from experience how good it feels."

I rubbed my tired face before picking up the half empty glass of scotch and slamming it back. "Besides…." I stalled, rubbing my mouth with the back of my shirt. "Bella's come out of a nasty divorce and I…..I haven't exactly done right by her either up until now. I want her to trust me before we take that next step, you know?"

Laurent nodded, looking every bit the eccentric underground philosopher he so desperately wanted to be. "I see….so what you're saying is: you're not ready."

I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to figure out if he was really just trying to get to the bottom of this or if he only wanted me to look and feel like a damn pussy. "We're not ready," I corrected him, already liking the sound of that far better than I did his statement.

"Comme tu voudras," he shrugged, turning around to order another glass of brandy. "How is Tanya? Is ma petite fille still happy in Berlin? Does she know about you and….."

"Bella? She knows some of it."

Laurent chuckled, nursing a fresh glass of liquor. "I bet she didn't like that one bit."

I shrugged, not really wanting to get into the whole Tanya thing at that time. "She'll have to learn how to live with it."

Laurent's eyes snapped back at me, studying me as he slowly sipped on his drink. "This girl….this Bella. She's really special to you, isn't she?"

I nodded, motioning the bartender for another drink. "She is."

Laurent chuckled, patting me on the shoulder as he nodded at the bartender for him to refill his glass. "I bet you feel pretty stupid right now, don't you mon cher ami."

"Confused, yes but stupid?" I shrugged, tracing the rim of my glass. "No, I don't think I'm stupid. I did the right thing. I know it."

Then again, knowing and believing were two completely different things and right that moment, knowing was as far as I would have gone.

Tearing myself away from Bella's lips had been one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do. The knowledge that all I had to do was stay in that moment and let it consume me as we consummated whatever it was that had sprung to life between us…it was bliss. Well, it would have been if it hadn't been for that pesky voice in the back of my head telling me that it would have been wrong to do it like that…..to do it that night.

She might not have seen it in that moment but Bella deserved more than that – more than me even, though for some absurd reason she still chose to be with me even after everything I'd done….or failed to do.

I'd been given a gift; the most precious gift a man could get.

But as always…..gifts never came for free and this one….it came with huge responsibilities attached.

I knew I had to stop it.

I knew I had to quench the fire before I could do nothing but let it consume me.

And so I ran.

I ran out of that hallway like my ass was on fire, the painful look of rejection on Bella's face haunting my every step and almost forcing me to look back…to go back. It even very nearly succeeded, my steps faltering in the lobby as my mind started to make excuses to give into the desperate urge to claim, to consume, to possess…..

But it would have been wrong. I knew that deep down inside, which was why I'd pressed on, changing the unfamiliar surroundings of our hotel for those of my old stomping grounds in the hopes I would find someone from the old days to talk to….to distract me.

I'd hit the jackpot on my first try, a grin breaking out on my face even in spite of the mess I got myself in as I spotted my old friend Laurent Grimaldi sitting in exactly the same spot I'd left him in the last time we spoke.

Laurent was as much a monument of this city as the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre were and I believed he'd been around for quite as long too. He was a poet, a painter, a philosopher, a doctor…

Over the six months I'd spent in Paris – three of them actually living with the guy as he and Tanya did their best to straighten me out after two years of art school and one year of Vicky had left me a shivering, sweating pile of waste – I'd come to find out that there was very little the guy couldn't do; his insights into the world shining through in his art and his way of living.

He was unique; the kind of guy you only meet once in your life and who would stick by you until the end, even if it was just in spirit.

And just like the old days, Laurent was just the kind of guy a fucked up idiot like me needed to talk to at a time like that, his years of experience in the ways of the world and – more importantly – the ways of women, helping me to sort through the minefield of emotions I'd landed myself in and find my way out of it.

"Just to complete the picture here," Laurent asked, interrupting my thoughts. "Did you tell her how special she is to you?"

"No?" What was meant to be a statement came out as a question. "I mean….it's always implied, so I think she should know…but no, I've never spoken the words aloud, at least…. Not in so many words. Why?"

"Does she know why you rejected her?" Laurent went on, his words making me break out in a cold sweat even in spite the humid conditions of the dive bar I found myself in.

I nervously scratched the back of my head. "I didn't tell her but I think….."

"Never think," Laurent interrupted me. "Not when it comes to les femmes, at least. Always make sure they know exactement where you're coming from."

He nodded at the waiter, signaling for the guy to refill his glass as he tapped his long, bony fingers against the bar. "Women….they need to know where they stand with us men, so never leave them uncertain of where you stand. Especially a girl like your beautiful Isabelle. She needs to know you're not just another miserable sac de merde like her ex. The last thing she needs right now is more confusion."

I cringed, my fingers playing with the packet of cigarettes I'd placed on the bar in the hopes the barman would take pity on me and allow me to light one up just for the sake of old times. I was beginning to see the error of my ways even though I knew he was quite determined to rub my nose in them. "So you're saying…."

"I'm saying that if this Isabelle is the kind of woman I think she is, you probably left her feeling rejected, uncertain and completely désolé."

I groaned, the memory of that look on her face as I walked away – rejected, uncertain and even more désolé than Laurent could ever imagine – flashing in front of my eyes again.

Laurent didn't take pity on me, as I knew he wouldn't. "And instead of being there for this beautiful woman – a woman you like so much that you're willing sacrifice your own needs to wait for her – in her time of need, trying to save what can be saved, you're here with me, an old raffish artiste, in this cafe getting drunk."

I leaned on my elbows, literally hanging my head in shame as I tried not to smash something. "Shit! Fuck!"

Laurent chuckled, patting me on the back. "I'd say that again, mon cher."

There seemed to be only one way out of this mess and, though it was completely adverse to the kind of thing I'd usually did – that thing being running – I knew it was the only thing I could do to make this right again. "I think I've gotta go…."

Laurent nodded his head, his dreadlocks swinging cheerfully as his lips curled up in amusement. "You do that son. And don't worry about the bill. C'est sur moi."

"Thanks, man!" I leaned in for a one-armed man hug and a kiss on the cheek, our usual way of greeting one another. "I hope our paths will cross again."

"Oh, they will," Laurent grinned, already motioning at the bartender for another drink. "Whether in this life or the next, I have a feeling our paths will cross again."

I smiled, shaking my head as I hightailed it out of there and back towards the Clichy neighborhood. I couldn't help but hope he was right.

On all accounts.

I didn't know what I expected to find when I exited the elevator again, three hours after I'd fled the scene like a criminal, but I had to admit I was slightly disappointed when everything was calm again; all traces of what had happened there in that hallway only a few hours ago erased.

I leaned against Bella's door, trying to find out if she was still awake and felt up to talking but hearing nothing.

"You've made a bloody mess of things again, Cullen!" I scowled, keeping my voice low as I leaned my forehead against the cool, unyielding wood of her door. "You'll be lucky if she ever talks to you again….let alone forgives you."

It soon turned out how true my words had been.

I noticed it as soon as she got down for breakfast the next morning, walking straight past my table to finally settle down at an empty one near the window, as far away from me as she could get.

It set the tone for the rest of the day.

All throughout the morning I tried to approach her; break to the armor she'd put up….but to no avail. She seemed determined to keep me at a safe distance and no word or gesture from me could convince her otherwise.

It stung, even though I knew I bloody well deserved it.

We barely spoke as we trudged along the cobbled pathways of Père Lachaise cemetery, the serene beauty of the moss covered tombs and the forgotten – and sometimes not so forgotten – fame of the people occupying them deepening the sense of melancholy that hung around us until it almost got too much to bear.

I kept my distance as Bella walked ahead, studying the graves of the unknown with as much attention as she did those of Jim Morrison or Eloise and Abélard and me studying her with a fascination that wasn't any less than hers. The only contact we had was when a patch of moss or an uneven stretch of cobbles made her loose her footing, a small smile before she retreated again barely enough to give me some hope.

"Do you want to have lunch now or wait until after we've visited the Notre Dame?" I asked as we trudged back towards the underground station.

She didn't look back at me, her shoulders pulled up to the point where her face was almost hidden underneath the collar of her warm, navy pea coat. "I'm good."

I sighed, rubbing my hair as I stumped out the butt of my cigarette before following her down into the station. It was like last night and all those nights before them had never happened, like I was just another photographer and she was just another reporter, here on a job and gone tomorrow.

It was driving me insane, even more so because I knew I'd been the one to build that wall.

If only I knew how to tear it down again…

We picked up a sandwich after visiting the magnificent twelfth century gothic cathedral, rising up from the island in the middle of the Seine in all its robust glory and beautiful, intricate stained glass windows and Bella obediently followed after me as I suggested making use of the beautiful day by taking a walk in the little Vert Galant park on the far west tip of the Île de la Cité.

"Bella…." I waited for a reaction, taking her and in mine and pulling her towards me when it didn't come. "Please talk to me."

She snorted, shaking her head as she sat down on a bench a few feet away from the ledge. "You hurt me."

"I know," I muttered, my hands finding purpose in disengaging and reattaching the lens of my camera.

She cocked her head to the side, her brown eyes studying my calmly….vacantly. "Do you, really?"

I cringed at the lack of emotion in her voice. It was like she'd detached herself from the situation so it wouldn't hurt. I knew that approach all too well, having tried and perfected it myself a few years ago. Still, that kind of shit was more something I'd do, not something she'd have to resort to in order to protect herself. "I do." I sighed, dumping my camera in my lap so that I could have my hands free to light up another cigarette. "Yesterday after I left….I spoke to someone; an old friend. He made me realize just how bloody wrong it was of me to leave you there like that, even if I thought I did it for all the right reasons."

"An old friend?" There was a tiny spark of wonder in Bella's eyes, making the dull brown come to life just a little, though it didn't escape my notice how this was the thing she picked up on. This and not the part where I tried to explain myself. "Someone you knew when you were here?"

I nodded. "He's kind of a big name in our circle, though I doubt if anyone has ever heard of him outside of it. Tanya'd already met him a couple of years before when she took a gap year to focus on 'finding her voice' so when we ended up here, his was the first door she knocked on."

"So last night ….what?" Bella continued to ask. "You called him to meet up or something?"

"He's not the kind of guy you'd ever find in a phonebook." I chuckled, trying to pick out the right kind of words to describe people like Laurent without making them look like one the bums we'd passed on the street. "I think most people would describe him as a hippie or a bohemian, though I think he's far too unique to be categorized like that. There's no label that can really describe him."

I chuckled, sparking up another cigarette as I thought about my old friend. "Anyway…..He doesn't believe in phones and rarely even picks up his mail. No…."

I smiled, shaking my head. "He believes that the only people worth his time are the ones who cross his path in the here and now. There's no forcing it or making arrangements. When your paths are supposed to cross, that's when they'll cross."

"He sounds kind of flaky," Bella remarked, my heart fluttering as she smiled – finally – while staring off the in distance. "In fact, I think he and my mom would get along if they ever met."

"They might have," I grinned, letting some of the tension in my shoulders go as I sat back, relieved that we were getting back in easier waters after the turmoil from before. "He spent most of the seventies traveling around the States with a group of what he calls 'kindred spirits'. From what you told me about your mum, she might just be the kind of person to be one of those spirits."

Bella's head fell back as she laughed freely, the sound never having sounded quite as amazing as it had right then. "I'd have to call my mom and ask her about him. What was his name again?"

"Laurent Grimaldi," I answered. "I could try to introduce you to him if you want? It might take a while to find him but I think you'd like him and I know he'd like to meet you."

"Maybe." She blushed, wringing her gloved hands in her lap. "So he told you, you were an idiot for leaving a girl hanging like that?"

"He did." I nodded. "He also told me to talk to you."

"Then talk." Her voice was still light but it was laced with something harder; something demanding answers that would lighten the blow her pride had sustained last night.

Okay, here we go. I took a deep breath, resisting the urge to spark up another smoke because I knew it would make me look like some big jerk who didn't give a toss before I started. "Walking away last night…..it was one of the hardest things I ever had to do in my life."

"Could have fooled me." Bella snorted bitterly, her eyes trained to the river surrounding us. "With the speed you were hightailing it out of there it seemed pretty damn easy to me."

"Look," I sighed, running both hands through my hair. "I know I was an idiot for bailing on you like that but people sometimes do some pretty messed up crazy things when they're scared shitless."

"You were….scared?" The words came out as if she was testing them on her tongue; hesitant and surprised. The sound of them gave me hope that I might get through to her after all.

I nodded. 'This thing we have together? It's better than anything I ever had in my life and I don't want to screw it up by doing the wrong thing….even though I seem to be bloody brilliant at doing just that when I'm trying to do the right thing ."

I smiled, looking into her eyes as she slowly lifted them to mine. "I want to do this right, Bella. Right for you….for me…for us. That's why I didn't want to sully what we have by jumping into things prematurely even though God knows I want you so fucking much right now."

"You….you want me?' The look in her eyes – vulnerable and insecure – was devastating but it was just what I needed to remind me that I'd made the right decision.

I tentatively reached out my hand, lightly touching her cheek and breathing a sigh of relief when she leaned into my touch. "Sweetheart, I burn for you."

Her lips opened and closed a few times without producing any sound, a small frown appearing as she mulled my words over in her brain. "So you ran away because…"

"Because I was seconds away from pulling you into my room and ravishing you well into the night." I had to look away, the intense energy between us too much to handle….too much to withstand.

"And you didn't want that because….." Bella went on.

"It would be too soon." After the look I'd just seen on Bella's face, it was a whole lot easier to get the words out the right way than I thought it would be. "When we do take that step, I don't want anything to stand between us. I want you to feel like you don't have to doubt my feelings or intentions….."

I tried to pull my lips into a smile but it was a forced one at best. "And for me…..I don't want to have to compete with your ex husband. I know he did a number on you and I know it will take a whole lot of time and hard work on my part to mend the parts of you he broke and that's okay but….."

"But you want to see some progress before we do…." She gestured with her hands, her cheeks blushing pink as her lips faltered.

I nodded. "I think we both deserve more than what we would have gotten out of it last night."

Her small smile told me she was beginning to see my point. "I wish you would have told me that before, though. Preferably last night."

"I do too." I let out a deep breath, my feet kicking a few of the larger pebbles along the graveled walkway along the quay. "I know I made a bad mistake by running out on you last night and….I'm sorry."

Her gloved hand on mine made my whole body heat up from the inside because I knew it meant that I still had a shot with her. "Just don't do it again, Edward," she spoke softly. "I don't know how much more of you pushing me away I can take."

"I know." I raised her hand to my mouth and kissed the soft suede of her gloves, wishing it was warmer so that I could taste her skin. "Thank you."

We sat there for a little longer – her head on my shoulder and our hands entwined in my lap – looking just like every other couple of lovebirds caught up in the magic of the City of Love while in fact to me it felt like we'd just scaled a huge wall – one of the many standing between us – and had emerged victoriously on the other side.

When we both started to feel the chill in our bones we set off again, crossing the river Seine on the Pont Neuf and making our way into the Quatier Latin; the lively university neighborhood that had gotten its name early on in history because of the many Latin speaking scholars inhabiting the area due to of its nearness to the Sorbonne university.

The silence of earlier that morning carried through into the afternoon as we made our way through the narrow streets and past the many little bars and bistro's but unlike before, the silence lacked that laden, uncomfortable suffocating thickness. This time we were both enjoying the beauty of the city and each other's company without feeling the need to express our feelings in words. We both knew it.

"Edward?" I looked up into her beautiful brown eyes, my fingers tapping the ash off the end of my cigarette before I brought it back to my mouth. "Just now you told me you were afraid having to compete with Mike…..my ex husband…."

I nodded, motioning for her to go on.

'I…" she smiled nervously, wringing her hands. 'I just wanted you to know that as far as I'm concerned there is no competition. He…..what he was to me was nothing compared to what you could be to me…what you already are to me."

As much as I'd hoped it and may have even assumed it – I was no pro at romancing girls like Bella but I did think myself a better candidate for her affections than that worthless piece of donkey's excrement – it still did me good to hear her speak the words. A lot of good. "Tell me about him…about your ex."

She smiled uncomfortably. "What do you want to know?"

I smiled nervously. Everything. I wanted to know what he was like so that I can be the exact opposite. I want to know where he lives so that I can punch his face out. I want to know if the feelings you have for me are anything like the way you felt about him…..But I couldn't very well ask her that so I had to settle for something else; something more insignificant. "Uhm…I don't know. How did you two meet?"

"At school." She shrugged. 'Forks is a pretty small town so if two people happen to be born the same year they are convicted to spending their school careers in the same class unless one of them skips or flunks."

I nodded. "So was it love at first sight? I mean….you don't have to talk about this if you don't want to…."

"It's okay." She smiled back at me, weaving her fingers through mine and letting the tangle of gloved hands swing between us. "I made you share yesterday so I figure it's only right that it's my turn today." I felt a little guilty, having her feeling obligated to share something so private when I'd given her only the tip of the iceberg. If only she knew just how deep my darkness went….Well, she'd never let me get close to her again. That was for sure.

"We didn't really hang out until high school. He was a boy and I was a girl and as far as I was concerned we didn't even inhabit the same planet. That was…until I started developing boobs and he started to notice them."

I snorted. "Yeah, I so know what you're talking about." I'd be lying if I didn't admit that the first time I'd even looked twice at a girl who wasn't my baby sister was the day when Becky White showed up at school wearing a tight t-shirt showcasing her new growth spurt. The day after that was the day when my dad taught me the 'fine art' of washing my own sheets.

"After that he spent most of our freshman and sophomore year trying to ask me out and me shooting him down until finally I caved and let him take me to the spring dance."

"And the rest was history?" I offered.

"It would have been if he hadn't felt the need to plow the hired help." She shook her head, a hint of bitterness gracing her lips as she went on. "In hindsight I sometimes wonder how I could have ever been so stupid as to fall for him. I guess it was just the sense of security I got from knowing that I was being cared for; both emotionally and materialistically. Even if I had to take the bitchy mother in law and Mike's constant whining into the bargain. I thought I was happy….but I wasn't."

"That's sad."

"I know," she smiled again, this time genuinely and warmly. "But it's ancient history now. In fact I think that Mike did me a favor in his own distorted and slightly nauseating way. I just wish…"

I stopped her, using our twined hands to turn our bodies so that we were facing each other. "What?"

"I wish we could have settled things in a more mature way," she shrugged, looking down at her feet again. "You know? Without the whole town getting caught up in our dirty laundry and accusation flying back and forth across a court room."

I pulled her into my arms, offering her what I could in the way of comfort. I knew that no words of mine could suffice – 'I know what it feels like 'would have sounded horribly conceited since I really didn't, 'I'm sorry' nowhere close enough to describe the regret I felt on her behalf – so I let my body speak, keeping her close and - hopefully- letting her know that in spite of what she'd been through, she was loved.

Deeply loved.

The rest of the day was spent wandering around the Quartier Latin and Saint Germain, sometimes stopping to visit a church or a museum or just to take in the beauty of the city; Bella standing back and watching as I took pictures both for the magazine and for my private collection- the ones she didn't know of, the ones of her.

We settled down in a nice little bistro around seven, talking over a lovely dinner of roasted chicken in a thyme sauce which was mostly eaten singlehandedly (and rather awkwardly) since I seemed to be unable to let go of Bella's hand.

Unable and unwilling.

"You'll have to let go at one point," she teased me, those lights I'd come to love so much once again ablaze in her eyes, "at least, unless you've changed your mind about the whole intimacy thing."

I chuckled. "Nice try but no. I'm not going to sleep with you….yet."

"When then?" she asked, blushing as a waiter appeared out of nowhere to put her œufs a la neige in front of her.

I let my fingers trail along the edge of my nearly empty glass. "Soon?"

She rolled her eyes at me. "You know? It's very impolite to make a lady wait too long."

I shook my head. "A lady would never solicit a gentleman like that."

"Then clearly I am not a lady," she shrugged.

"And I think we've already established that I am not a gentleman," I added.

"Could've fooled me," she muttered under her breath, staring up innocently at me when I feigned ignorance.

"Let's get out of here," I suggested, waiting until Bella had finished her pudding before settling the bill and dutifully handing over the bill to her (it had been the compromise we'd made; the one where I got to feel like a bloke by paying the check and she got to cover her expenses and have the magazine pay me back). "We've got one more stop to make."

"Oh, yes!" she squealed, already halfway out of the door as if my words had been a starting shot. 'The Eiffel Tower!"

"You know, there will come a day when you won't feel so giddy at the prospect of yet another sight to visit," I chuckled, offering her my arm.

She looked up at me with wide eyes. "Never!"

"I…" I was just about to stop the words before they fell out of my mouth, twisting them into something that would get the message across without being too big for such a short acquaintance. "I think you're lovely, Bella Swan."

Her answering smile was radiant. "Well, I don't think you're too bad either, Edward Cullen."

I kissed her, chastely and quickly before pulling her off in the direction of the metro wondering – as I'd done so many times since I'd picked her up at the airport – how I was ever going to stick to my resolve.

Being around Bella…it still felt so strange, so new even though it was like deep down inside we already knew each other.

I'd never experienced this before, this normal way of being in love.

With Vicky it had always been about demands; other places to visit, other people to see, other things to buy…..names to be made. We never could just be.

Not like I could with Bella.

"What are you thinking about?" I looked down to find Bella staring at me pensively, her hands holding on for dear life as the train wove its way through subterranean Paris.

"You?" I shrugged, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans only to be thrown halfway across the carriage when the cart jostled on its way into the Champ de Mars station. "Bloody hell!" I groaned, brushing myself off and apologizing to the poor, unsuspecting woman who'd broken my fall.

Bella merely chuckled, shaking her head as she made her way out of the carriage as soon as the door opened. "Are you coming?"

I'd been to the Eiffel Tower a few times though I had to say I didn't quite get what all the fuss was about. Sure, it was a landmark and a very impressive testament to the kind of handiwork people had been capable off more than a century ago but to me it was nothing more than a huge piece of scrap metal that fooled people into spending top notch for a view that was just as nice from the top of the Arc de Triomphe or the Sacre Coeur.

Bella, however, seemed to be enchanted by it, her eyes taking on that faraway, dreamy look as she stared the old piece of junk like it was a unicorn from a fairytale. "I've dreamed of going up there ever since I was a kid," she gushed. "And now I'm here."

I shrugged, glaring at one of the many salespeople selling all kind of touristy junk underneath the tower. "Let's just get up there, shall we?"

Bella skipped towards the southern entrance to the tower, the one reserved for those smart people – like me – who'd booked their tickets in advance instead of spending hours queuing up like a bunch of bloody sheep.

"Monsieur?" I glared as yet another salesfucker tried to sell me a crappy looking replica of the pile of scrap I was about to climb. It seemed like the place was riddled with them, at least five of those wankers pouncing on us before we'd even cleared the underground station.

"No thanks," I huffed, wondering what kind of idiots would buy a piece of junk like that.

I didn't have to wait long for an answer, my eyes nearly budging out of their sockets as I witnessed Bella making one salesfucker's day by buying a whole armful of mini Eiffel Towers.

"What the fuck, Bella?" I groaned, seeing from the corner of my eyes how a whole other bunch of salesfuckers and sketch artists started to eye her like she was a piece of meat. We were in for it now.

"I promised my mom and my sister in law I'd bring one home for them," she shrugged apologetically as the salesfucker trudged off with a smug look on his face and a pocket full of Bella's hard-earned cash. "And I think Riley would like one as well."

"Riley?" Jealousy flared red hot through my veins at the mention of the name.

"I work with him," Bella replied, cocking her head in amusement as she let me simmer for a few moments before she put my mind at ease. "Relax, Edward. He's more likely to be attracted to you than he is to me."

"Ah." I chuckled. Just the kind of guy friend Bella needed.

"Not that it would have been any of your business if I did hang out with half the heterosexual guys in New York," she scolded me. "If we are going to make this work, you are going to have to put a leash on that green-eyed monster of yours and learn how to trust me."

I sighed. "Fair enough."

"Now, are we ever going to make it to the top or what?" she challenged me, sticking her hand out for me to grab and tugging me over to the reservations desk.

It took us forty minutes – forty fucking minutes – to get though security and past the line (yes, there was a line in the reservations section even though it was shorter than the other ones) before we were finally escorted into one of the elevators that would take us up to the top.

"I don't know how I feel about this," Bella wheezed, looking all kinds of apprehensive as our tiny little cabin crept up the leg of the tower, completely exposed and hanging from a few pieces of rope.

"Don't be afraid," I chuckled, pulling her into my arms. "Dozens of people have gone this same way for more than a century and they all made it back down safe and sound."

I'd be lying if I didn't enjoy the way she burrowed closer into my hold. A lot.

"You're not helping," Bella replied in a tiny voice, her body freezing up against mine as the elevator jolted to a stop on the first level.

One more elevator and we found ourselves on the second floor platform, looking out over the beautifully illuminated city sharply standing out against the night sky.

"It's so beautiful," Bella muttered, her eyes floating from the rigid modern architecture of la Défense to the ancient splendor of the Arc de Triomphe and the Louvre.

"It's okay, I guess," I shrugged, knowing it had nothing on the beauty that was standing right in front of me. I sighed happily as I wrapped my arms around her small waist, standing behind her as we shared the view across the City of Lights.

"Did Jane call you back about that assignment in London?" Bella asked, leaning back against me, her hand folding over mind.

"Hmm," I hummed, my nose buried in her hair as my arms trailed up and down her sides. "Thanks for that, by the way."

She chuckled. "You keep thanking me when I had something to do with it. It was all you."

"Liar!" I laughed, my arms pulling her even closer, relishing in the fact that we were there, in Paris on top of the bloody Eiffel Tower, together.

We never did end up looking for Laurent that night, our feet wandering though a whole different neighborhood as we talked and walked into the night until we found ourselves back in front of our hotel and – a few minutes later – in a position very similar to the one we were in the night before.

She looked up, her brown eyes partially hidden by her long lashes as a saucy smile crept onto her plump lips. "Sleep with me?"

I almost choked on my own spit, my eyes zapping over to her as I let out an involuntary groan, already feeling my pants tighten at the sultry sound of her voice inviting me into her bed. "Bella…..I thought we'd discussed this."

"We did," she shrugged, "but we merely agreed to 'no sex'. You never said anything about not sleeping together."

"I don't….' I ran my hand through my hair, my body undecided on what it needed more at that moment: nicotine or her.

"Please?" She pouted, looking at me through the thick almost black lashes that framed her big, chocolate eyes. "I promise I'll behave."

And that she did, or so I had to ascertain half an hour later as we lay in bed together, her breath slowly evening out as we snuggled together. Her behavior had been nothing short of lady like – or well…..as far as a lady would behave is she ever invited a man who wasn't her husband into her bed – keeping her hands to herself as we engaged in relatively chaste kisses.

Unfortunately, however, the harm had already been done. I was already harder than I'd ever been in my entire life and regretting my decision to abstain more and more with every second that passed as I lay there, watching the minutes of the clock tick away with her sleeping soundly beside me, completely unaware of the hold she had on me.

Dear God!

This woman was going to be the death of me.

So they're sleeping together without actually 'sleeping' together. How long will it be, you think, before one of them cracks?

Okay. Time to get serious.

Over the next couple of weeks, the updates for this story are going to be a little bit different to what you're used to. The Real Teacher, my amazing beta and friend, will give birth to her second baby on Monday (if everything goes as planned) as has to undergo surgery immediately afterwards. I ask you all to join me in keeping her and her family in your thoughts and prayers on Monday and hope that she will make a full and speedy recovery.

You will understand that this means that updates for LDV aren't going to be as regular as they've been until now since I don't want to bother her during the first weeks of her recovery and I don't post without her. This means that there are two options.

1: Instead of posting every week, I'll post a full chapter every other week for the next 6 weeks. We've got three chapters already done so that should be able to tie us over for now.

2: I'll split the chapters that are already done in half (which I think can be done without harming the story) and you'll get half a chapter every week for the next 6 weeks.

Please let me know what you prefer.

Also: there's still time to vote in te Avant Garde Fanfiction Awards. I've added a link to my profile page that will take you directly to the voting ballot.

Follow me on twitter for updates on my writing and everything else. I'm missbaby25 over there.

Review and I'll tease ya.