Jean wakes to Lucien's hand rubbing her green silk covered hip. The sun is shining brightly and the grumble in her stomach tells her it is late in the morning. Her muscles ache and there is a tenderness at her core from the night's passionate lovemaking. She relishes the feel of the tenderness, a reminder of how alive she really is with Lucien. A contented smile is on her face recalling the previous night.

She slips the green silk out of the box and quickly make her way to the bathroom while Lucien's back is turned. The man is rambling on about some club he wants to take her to before leaving Paris. A friend of his from way back owns it now. She isn't really listening. Her mind racing, her heart pounding in her chest with anticipation. There are things she has questioned about herself in regards to Lucien but this she knows she has right.

Jean shuts and locks the door behind her. If Lucien notices the click of the lock on the bathroom door, which she has not used since being married, he doesn't say anything to her relief. She doesn't want him bursting in and spoiling the surprise. Her clothes from the day are off and hanging with precision. She slips off her knickers, one less barrier to remove later. The green silk slips so easily over her skin and the gentle scraping of the lace that covers the bodice send a sensation through her breasts that makes her let out a small gasp.

She can hear Lucien still talking away but his words allude her. Looking in the mirror, Jean takes care to brush out her hair, softening the curls just the way Lucien likes them. A quick brush of her teeth and a dab of her pale pink lipstick; she is pleased with how she looks for her age. It isn't until she is reaching to unlock the door that she notices the tremble in her hands. The nerves that still linger in the back of her mind that this life, this man don't belong to her are slowly surfacing. Stop it, Jean. He chose you, loves you.

Jean opens the door slowly not for dramatic effect but to allow herself one last deep breath to compose herself. She sees Lucien back still towards her in a state of half dress. He is just pulling off his trousers, shirt unbuttoned, mouth still running about lord knows what.

He turns to sit on the bed to remove his socks, " and I think you will love the gardens at…" Jean catches his eye as he goes to sit. His mouth drops and so does he on the floor, having missed the bed in awe of his beautiful bride.

"Oh Lucien! Are you alright?" Jean is quickly by his side, kneeling next to the now silent man.

"Bloody hell! You are…" He continues to stammer trying to find the words to convey all that she is. "Mine."

Any twinge of nerves that may have been present vanish with that one word. "Yes, Lucien. I'm yours. I'll take that you approve of my new garment?" Lucien can only nod, still finding it difficult to speak. "Maybe we should get off the floor?" She stands reaching out her hand to him. He take hold of it, rubbing a thick thumb over the rings that grace her left hand, allowing her to guide him up.

Lucien is immediately covering her mouth with his, tongues darting between lips. His senses coming back to him. His wife, his Jean bought this negligee for one purpose and that is to turn him on. He will do everything in his power to show her that he is worthy of her efforts. That above all else he treasures her.

Time seems to hold still yet Jean feels like the room is spinning. Lucien is bare to her, corded muscles and scars under her hands. His large hands roaming, kneading her flesh. His mouth tracing the lines of the lace. The sensation of his mouth on her nipples through the lace has her weak and breathless. She goes to remove the silk. He grabs her wrist and growls, "leave it on."

"What are you smirking about Mrs. Blake?"

"Just thinking about last night." Lucien's hand have been drifting higher up her body, having reached the seam where silk meets lace under her breast.

"Mmmm, me too." She can feel the stirring in his groin leaving no doubt of what he is thinking about.

Jean turn and sits up, flipping Lucien onto his back before straddling him. One of his hands on her thigh toying with the hem while the other hand sliding up her side. "I'm glad you like it."

He looks up at her to sees such deep love in the steel blue eyes. He sits up to hold her better, tighter. " I love it and I love you."

They stay in this embrace, Jean's nose deep in his neck lost in his scent, until she feels his tears hit her cheek. "Lucien?"

"It's our green."

"Yes, yes it is, my love." She kisses him deeply, reawakening what was started a few moments before.

This love making will not be like the previous night. A night full of lust, exploring undiscovered pleasures; secret wants and desires. No, this morning it is Lucien and Jean, who adore and respect each other above all. They slowly make love holding each other tightly, holding onto each other closely in their reverent love shutting the outside world out for a little while longer. In this bedroom in Paris only they exist.

There are times in their love making that tears are shed. Not tears of sorrow or pain but tears of shear joy that their two lonely souls found each other. That they have a chance to love again. As they lay holding one another these tears fall once again. Lucien cradles Jean in his arms as she tighten the grasp of her legs around him, both spent but neither ready to let go. Lucien finally roll over onto his back taking Jean with him.

The sun is high in the morning sky Both are ravenous from all their physical activities. Lucien stomach's growling gets Jean to laughing, giving levity to the moment. "You aren't use to go without food this long anymore doctor." Jean gives his stomach a pinch.

"Yes, you spoil me." Lucien sits up swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "Why don't I order some food while you wash up, darling?"

"That sounds like a marvelous idea." She watches Lucien slip on his dressing gown as he makes his way to the sitting area to call downstairs.

Jean stretches out in the middle of the large bed. She looks out the window at the clear blue sky above the Paris skyline. A few more tears fall as she smiles thinking how blessed she is, that each step of her life led her down the path to him. Eyes cast upward she whispers a thank you. Whether she is thanking God, Christopher, the universe she can not say but she is thankful for her life for her Lucien.