50

“Olivia, why didn’t you tell me you knew Dr. Toulon-Chatel?” Bypassing morning greetings, the Chairman of Psychiatry, Dr. Herb McMillan, never wasted precious minutes on the phone.

“I don’t.” Tapping the faded, old desk in her windowless office, Dr. Olivia Crane scoured her mind to put a face to the name. “Never met him. But I read his articles, the ones you passed on to me. He seems like a brilliant psychiatrist. I’m sure he’ll be an excellent addition to our department.” Maybe she’d be able to sleep a little more than four hours with the French doctor on board for six months.

Doc cleared his throat then paused as if to choose his words. “When I sent him your enthusiastic report last Thursday, he e-mailed back on Friday that he’ll be here on Sunday. And voilà, as he said.”

“Voilà, what?”

“He arrived last night.”

“Already? He wasn’t supposed to be here for two more weeks.” With her busy schedule, Olivia hadn’t had time to check the visiting physician’s website yet.

A soft chuckle sounded on the other line. “The first thing he told me was he couldn’t wait to see you.”

“To see…me?” Why? Olivia blinked, annoyed by a situation she didn’t understand.

Doc kept mumbling in her ear as she pulled one of their visitor’s articles from the pile on her desk and punched his website into her computer.

The name Toulon-Chatel flashed on the screen, along with a photo that stopped her heart. A perfect, amazing picture of Luc.

Her Luc.

The picture didn’t make sense. How had Luc ended up with such an incredibly long and aristocratic name?

Olivia zoomed in on the photo by two hundred percent. With the cursor, she traced blue eyes framed by dark lashes, chiseled nose and smiling lips.

“Dr. Lucien…de…Toulon-Chatel.” Squinting at the screen, she studied Luc’s handsome features. He was here? In Cincinnati? “Oh no.”

“Yes,” Doc replied, his voice excited. She heard a faint, “I’ll bring him over.”

The phone slipped from her sweaty palm and banged on the desk.

Olivia had welcomed the opportunity to co-author an article with a brilliant psychiatrist to further her career. But she was expecting an older, distinguished physician, Dr. L. de Toulon-Chatel, probably graying or bald.

Not drop-dead gorgeous Luc whose image was woven intimately into her most sensual dreams.

Darn. Luc might imagine she was behind the decision to invite him back to the Cincinnati University Hospital. Too late now for the chairman to politely withdraw the invitation.

An insistent beeping caught her attention. She reached for the receiver and put it back in its cradle.

Ten years was a long time. Maybe he was married. Her throat constricted. God, I hope he doesn’t come here with a wife and family.

Her gaze frozen on the screen, Olivia couldn’t tell how long she remained at her desk, staring at the monitor where Luc’s picture smiled at her.

Someone knocked. Her office door opened. She bolted out of her chair, took a step, and stopped in her tracks. Doc came in, and towering behind him…Luc George.

Her pulse raced, her knees wobbled, her head swam. She stared at him, hands clenched behind her back to conceal their trembling.

With confident strides, Luc passed Dr. McMillan and circled her desk. A wide grin on his face, he halted in front of her, his hair mussed with a strand across his forehead, his eyes as bright as a cloudless sky. She recognized the amber and spice scents of his favorite cologne. The evocative fragrance transported her back to a time when she still believed love could work miracles.

“Olivia.” His voice was hoarse. Different.

Awareness clicked in her foggy mind. She had to welcome him, a physician greeting a visiting colleague. She stiffened and extended her arm for a handshake.

Ignoring her hand, Luc cradled her shoulders. In a swift motion, he brought her against him and kissed her three times on the cheeks—right, left, and right again—in the French way. His lips left fiery spots where they touched her face, and her heart skipped a beat. She stepped back.

“Olivia,” Luc repeated with a devastating smile.

“Luc?” Heat radiated to her throat, her chest, her belly.

Beyond the desk, Doc cleared his throat a couple of times.

Good grief, what was happening to her? Ten years of perfect control threatened to crumble in a few minutes.

What a mess. Lord, what a gigantic mess.

Luc’s sparkling smile faded as he released her.

“Welcome to Cincinnati,” Olivia said for the sake of saying something until she could recover her mental faculties.

“It is such a pleasure to be here again. I appreciate the invitation.” Luc’s baritone voice sounded natural now, tinged with eagerness, in spite of his formal stilted English. She’d forgotten how he pronounced the R from deep in the throat and avoided contractions. “Merci.” He inched closer.

“You’re welcome. Our department needs your expertise.” She retreated a few more steps and flattened against the wall, unable to move or breathe. Luc held her gaze as if he’d come all the way from Paris to indulge in this agreeable pastime. Would he stop invading her space? “Excuse me.”

Luc backed up and turned. He paused as his gaze fell on her computer screen displaying his enlarged picture. His lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Oh chérie.”

Oh cripes. Her gaze flicked to the monitor screen and then settled back on Luc, a warm blush invading her cheeks.

A knowing grin spread across his face, and he squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he whispered. “I missed you too.”

No, please. The words lodged in her throat as she studied the man she’d once loved. The mischievous twinkling in the blue depth of his eyes, the contented smile, and the confident stance showed her in no uncertain terms Luc believed she’d called him back.

Standing so close to her sexy visitor did strange things to her usual composure. Unwelcome tremors fluttered through her body.

“Wait.” She steadied herself, not wanting to convey the wrong signal. “You don’t understand.”

Dr. McMillan cleared his throat. “I haven’t had my morning coffee yet.” Her mentor’s inquisitive gaze flipped from her to Luc. “Care to join me?”

“Avec plaisir. My pleasure,” said Luc.

“Olivia?” Doc’s eyebrow rose in an arch. “I’m sure you can use a freshly brewed cup. Strong. The way you like it.”

Yes, she badly needed coffee. Grateful for the distraction, she nodded and squared her shoulders, eager to escape Luc’s proximity and familiar scent.

~*~

When Olivia held the door open for him and Dr. McMillan, Luc suppressed an amused grin. His gaze rested on her hands. No ring there. She was still unattached, an independent, efficient woman, but her gesture defied his sense of chivalry.

“Après toi.” Luc indicated she should pass in front of him. She glanced at him, her lips parting in an adorable smile, but she didn’t question his good manners as she waited for him to follow her and then locked her door.

He’d wondered if he’d find her changed. Her perfume had. Still French. But heady and mature. Probably Arpège, stronger than the Chanel he’d given her years ago.

And her hair was different. She’d cut the long dark ponytail he used to wrap around his hand. Shoulder-length curls with blond streaks framed her face now. She was as lovely as he remembered, in a black pantsuit and light-green silk blouse that matched the aqua color of her eyes. A cool, serene Grace Kelly beauty. An impossible dream suddenly materializing. Olivia had been worth the wait. When would he be able to take her in his arms and taste the passion he’d missed so much?

“You guys go ahead.” McMillan’s voice snapped Luc out of his pleasurable contemplation. “I have to stop in my office. I’ll join you in a minute.”

“Let’s walk outside. It’s so gorgeous today.” Olivia preceded Luc toward the hallway and the front door. She strolled out into the narrow road joining the School of Medicine to University Hospital.

Luc adjusted to Olivia’s quick step. He’d walked this path so often, ten years ago, fingers entwined with Olivia’s, on the way to clinical rounds at the hospital or to breaks in the cafeteria.

The flowerbeds along the sidewalk overflowed with red, pink and white roses. Breathing the delightful autumn freshness, he glanced at Olivia. Was she sharing the same nostalgia?

“It is so good to be in Cincinnati, away from the grayness of Paris.” And even better to have been called here by Olivia Crane, the woman who’d filled his fantasies for so long. He hoped this invitation was Olivia’s graceful way to bring him back into her life. “I was happy to have finally heard from you after such a long time.”

“Huh? I didn’t…I mean I wasn’t the one who wrote the invitation.”

“I know, but you evaluated my articles. Thank you for the first-class recommendation.”

“Oh.” She glanced at him, then shrugged and appeared to study the roses. “The articles were very good.”

“To be honest, I was hoping you would write or call sooner. You have only e-mailed me three times. And that was more than three years ago.” He snorted. “Do you realize, Dr. Crane, that your last notes were mostly medical reports without a personal comment or question?” He gave her a sidelong glance.

Had she even noticed that his last name had changed two years ago? Probably not. She’d never questioned him about it and used the same address. Her e-mails had eventually stopped. To think of it, she’d also conspicuously missed the medical conferences he’d attended in the U.S.

She shook her head and sighed. “Come on, Luc. We exchanged e-mails for seven years before we decided to quit.”

“You decided.”

“We said good-bye once and for all, years ago.” Without looking at him, she raised her chin in the stubborn way he recalled too well and accelerated her pace.

“But you promised you would call.”

“Only if I needed help.” She shrugged, indicating she’d managed well on her own, so far.

Damn her independent spirit, her assertive tone that shut him out and constricted his chest.

Then why had she asked him back through McMillan’s invitation? What did she want from him?

Her smooth forehead and blank expression revealed none of her feelings. He longed to take her in his arms, melt her cool composure and hear her brazen moans. Old memories popped up, causing his muscles to tighten.

All in time, Lucien. He clenched and unclenched his fingers as he struggled to soothe his frustrated mind and cool his overheating body. Right now, he was happy to be with her again.

“Did you have a good trip?” Olivia asked, without slowing her steps.

“Great.” He didn’t mind the mundane conversation. Later, there would be plenty of time for intimate subjects. “McMillan was at the airport to receive me. He insisted I should stay at his house for the next three months.”

“In a way you’ll be doing him a favor. He’s leaving for California in a couple days. Did he mention you’ll have to feed the two dogs?” She tilted her head, green sparkles dancing in her eyes with barely concealed irony.

He chuckled. “I did not see any dogs last night.”

“They were probably locked in the basement. Trust me I’ve often house-sat for the McMillans. A fabulous mansion in Indian Hill, but a lot of responsibilities.”

“In that case I will count on you to help me.” He stepped closer. His blood raced with anticipation as he mulled over asking her to share the accommodation and chores with him.

“I don’t have much time on my hands with Doc teaching at Berkeley during his sabbatical.” Her cold tone left no doubt she’d understood his meaning and cut him right off.

Patience, Lucien. This was Olivia strolling next to him. At long last.

Difficult to believe. His Olivia.

Not one of the gorgeous women who’d paraded on his arm over the years. Staying away from her for so long had only reinforced his desire for her. Forgotten tingles spiraled through his gut. He wanted her back in his arms. Soon.

As they entered the cafeteria, the aroma of a hearty American breakfast wafted in the air. McMillan joined them at the buffet line. Luc loaded his tray with pancakes, eggs and sausage. Olivia chose a yogurt and a cup of coffee from the wide variety of items arranged on the counters.

They settled at a table near the wall. Luc attacked his pancakes with a hearty appetite, while Olivia spooned her yogurt ever so slowly, as if she planned to spend the whole day eating that small cup. Bon Dieu, with her figure, she didn’t need to watch her diet.

A throaty grumble came from the next chair. “Dr. Lucien—”

“Please call me Luc, the nickname I use in the U.S.”

McMillan chuckled. “It’s your last name that trips up my tongue. I can’t get myself to remember the dozen syllables.”

“My name used to be Luc George when I joined the University of Cincinnati, ten years ago.”

“So, you two knew each other then?” McMillan rubbed his chin, his gaze flitting from Luc to Olivia.

Luc raised his eyebrows and studied the very quiet Olivia. Her fingers flexed on her coffee cup. She turned her head toward the crowd invading the cafeteria, ignoring him.

Luc felt compelled to explain. “Olivia and I met at CUH during the year I spent here, specializing in sexual abuse disorders.”

“I see. It must have been during the time I spent in England. But you never returned, right?”

“No, not to Cincinnati. I had no specific reason until you invited me.” Luc shot a quick look at McMillan, then his gaze settled on Olivia’s profile.

Why had she called him back?

Her chest rose, straining against the silk blouse, as she glanced sideways. Luc moistened his lips. When would he be able to have a private moment with her?

“But you often came to America according to your résumé.” McMillan frowned while forking up his eggs.

With effort, Luc shifted his attention away from his gorgeous companion to concentrate on McMillan’s comment. “I have given seminars at various conferences in New York, San Francisco, and Houston, and I spent time as visiting physician at Columbia and Northwestern,” he recited, wishing McMillan would get paged away.

Olivia turned toward Luc, her aqua eyes wide in surprise. “And you’ve agreed to come to UC?”

“Of course.” How could she doubt that the University of Cincinnati would top the Ivy League universities in his mind? “In a way UC is my alma mater too.”

An endearing flush spread across her cheeks. His fingers itched to caress her slender neck, and he longed to trail kisses along her delicate jaws. He dug his nails into his palms and smiled at her. Years ago, he’d memorized every inch of her satiny skin, every line and curve.

As soon as they could be alone, he’d convince her that his feelings had not changed. In fact, they’d amplified tenfold over the years.

McMillan pushed out his chair and stood. “I’ve an important appointment about a grant for our department. Luc, maybe you can go with Olivia and re-familiarize yourself with our Crisis Center.”

Olivia’s wary gaze flew toward McMillan. “I have a patient in fifteen minutes. Luc is probably tired from yesterday’s long trip.”

“Not at all. I slept all night long. I would rather start my job right away and sit in with you during your patient’s visit, if you do not mind.”

She hesitated, then shrugged. “Sure.”

He focused on her face, puzzled by her frown and the thin line of her lips. She wouldn’t have shared their past relationship with her boss, so she’d feel forced to curb her emotions in McMillan’s presence. Luc refrained from any comments until they dropped off their trays and McMillan left.

“We should get going then,” she said.

Luc motioned for her to lead the way. As they strode toward the Crisis Center, he asked, “Olivia, McMillan does not know?”

“Know what?” Her beautiful eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“About us.”

“Of course not. I don’t share personal matters with my colleagues or my boss.” She looked away and climbed the stairs of the Crisis Center.

Luc followed her, his gaze fixed on her rigid spine. She wasn’t acting the way he’d expected. No lingering smile, no enthusiastic words, not even eye contact to allow him to glimpse her feelings.

A memory played in his mind. The awful night she’d told him to go home and forget about her. She’d had that same mutinous and frustrated look.

Something was wrong.

As they entered the consultation room, Luc slipped his hand into his blazer pocket and fingered the official letter. McMillan had issued the invitation because the Department of Psychiatry needed Luc’s expertise. And Luc, who wanted firsthand experience of the differences between American and French methods in psychiatric evaluation, had also agreed to coauthor the Diagnostic Manual of Mental Disorders with his American colleagues.

What about Olivia? She was the enigma that challenged him. Hoping she was interested in rekindling a passion he’d never been able to forget, he tried to stifle the doubt that slithered into his mind.

Would she have recommended him if she didn’t want him in her life now?