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director’s office, following closely behind Selia but not close enough to make conversation. She knew she had already made Selia uncomfortable with her earlier outburst, and since she was still irritated, she didn’t want to take it out on her. She was only following directions and did not deserve Morgan’s attitude for it.
    When they entered the executive office area, Selia crossed behind her desk to the phone to announce the visitor. Morgan began to apologize to Selia, but her attention was drawn to the door on her left. As she turned her head toward the sound of laughter, she saw the door of the director’s office open. Director Foillot stepped to the side to allow the dark-haired figure from earlier emerge.
    Morgan froze. Every last breath fled her lungs, and she felt dizzy. She pleaded for herself to breathe, but her body refused to comply. Just as her legs turned to rubber and her knees buckled, a firm hand grasped her solidly at the elbow and led her to a nearby settee. Morgan’s head felt like it was filled with cotton, and she heard the faint voice of a man call her name and ask for a glass of water.
    “I’m okay. Director, I’m sorry. I must be exhausted. I’ve been so busy with the—” A glass was pushed into her hand as the firm hand released her arm, and she forgot what she had been saying.
    Morgan sipped the cool water and tried desperately to compose herself before looking up into the eyes that stared back at her with concern. “Morgan.” It wasn’t a question. It was said thickly and full of recognition but with a fair amount of what sounded like fulfillment.
    Morgan had never before heard her name spoken with such wonder. It was said in a way that made it sound like it was the most beautiful name in the world. At that moment, Morgan had never been so glad that it was her very own. She couldn’t and didn’t want to take her eyes off the woman staring back at her.
    Morgan heard the director clear his throat and finally blinked and focused on him. As she stood to address him, the firm grasp returned, and she leaned into the support. When Morgan was on her feet, the hand and the woman left her side, and she felt a cool rush of absence flood her core.
    Morgan cleared her throat as well. “Director Foillot, again, I apologize. I skipped lunch, and my body doesn’t appear to appreciate it.” It was a lie, but she couldn’t think of anything better in the moment.
    “It’s okay, mademoiselle. Are you sure you’re all right?”
    “Yes, sir, I’m fine.” Morgan quickly changed the subject. “You wanted to see me, monsieur?”
    “Ah, yes. Ainsley here is the daughter of a dearly departed friend. She has come to Paris for holiday and stopped in for a visit. She was hoping to get a tour of our beloved museum. I was thinking that since she has been away so long and not keeping up on her French”—he shot Lee an amused look—“I thought a personal tour by our most gifted American intern would be perfect. That is, if you are feeling well enough.”
    “Actually, I was about to put the final touc—”
    “Yes. The Trois Grâces . C’est super. Lee was just telling me how she was deeply disappointed that the Cranach is not on display yet.”
    “One of my colleagues is placing it now, while I am…here.” Morgan tried to hide her regret and disappointment.
    “Excellente! It’s settled. Morgan, please see that my dear Ainsley sees whatever she wishes.” As he made his way toward his office, he called back to Lee, “Ainsley, don’t you leave our beautiful city without another visit with me.”

    *

    Lee couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe that her Venus, Morgan, was here and about to give her a grand tour of her most cherished place on earth. It was surreal.
    Morgan was even more beautiful than Lee remembered. Lee’s eyes followed the length of the escaped tendrils as they cascaded down over her shoulders. When she looked into Morgan’s eyes, she found herself lost, and hoped