10:00 p.m.—7th April, 2015

Lily gazed out of her hotel room window into the Parisian evening sky and sighed in satisfaction. Moonlight had replaced sunshine and the beautiful, warm spring day had evolved into a clear, mild, starry night. The street lights, car headlamps, and most delightfully of all, the illuminated Eiffel Tower reflected off the Seine and showed that Paris wasn’t quite ready for bed just yet.

The net curtains allowed the moon and the variety of artificial lights to bathe the bedroom in dim, gray half-light, at the same time permitting Lily the luxury of taking in the delightful scene without the worry of being ogled. Not that she was shy. On the contrary, but what she was wearing was hardly for public consumption — even in this, the world’s most romantic city.

Her cream-and-gold basque and matching knickers hugged her lithe figure perfectly, while their subtle colors complimented both her naturally tanned skin and the waves of highlighted brown hair falling lazily to the small of her back. She was a little below average height, but her black high-heeled shoes and slim, toned legs gave her the appearance of being taller.

From somewhere in the distance a siren rang out. Was it the police or the fire brigade? Or maybe an ambulance? She had never been able to tell, but as quickly as the shrill warning pierced the city’s still air, it faded into the distance, leaving only the gentle patter of water against the ensuite shower cubicle’s floor.

Inside it, washing away the travails of the day, stood her lover, Jerome. Was lover the right word for him? Partner made their relationship sound too formal, and with her being forty, calling him her boyfriend somehow no longer seemed appropriate. Soul mate…yes, that was a bit nearer the mark, although even that description didn’t do their relationship justice.

They had only been together for six months, and yet contrary to the perceived wisdom of time flying by when you’re having fun, it felt so much longer, almost as if they had known one another for years. Lily had been in love before. She had even been married, albeit briefly, but somehow her relationship with Jerome differed from the rest. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he was intelligent, and yes, his company captivated her, but they also shared a connection. A deep understanding of one another that included an unshakeable feeling that they had somewhere, somehow, met some place before.

Jerome walked over and wrapped his arms around her, luring her back into the present, and tenderly kissed the back of her head.

She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t heard him enter the room. The shower gel and cologne gave him a clean, fresh, masculine smell. Lily turned to embrace him and ran her hand through his short black hair, still slightly damp from the shower, before gently kissing him on the lips.

She gazed up into his dark brown eyes, ran her hand across his stubbly jawline, and was overcome by love and gratitude. That she should feel the latter emotion amused her, for as long as she could remember, she had been the princess men fawned over, while to some extent, they had always disappointed her. To her frustration, all of them had fallen short of her expectations.

Until she had met Jerome.

Initially, she had been unnerved by the strength of her feelings for him. This new lack of emotional control had made her uncomfortable, especially at first. But now, with their relationship more established and secure, she had come to enjoy the overwhelming, all consuming feeling of amour.

“Are you ready for our trip to Versailles tomorrow, my sweet prince?” Lily asked. “We can see if the palace seems familiar. Find out if it brings back any memories from our previous life together.”

Although Lily wore a broad grin and a teasing expression, a small part of her was not joking. She was an intelligent woman who had always been interested in the spiritual. Recently, she had begun to wonder if the concept of reincarnation provided the answer to the feeling of familiarity she experienced whenever she was with Jerome and their overwhelming, shared sense of having met some place before. She had once even braved the risk of appearing mad and run the idea past him. My God, how comfortable must she have become with him for that to happen? To both her surprise and delight, he had been open-minded about it all.

“Mademoiselle, it will be an honor for me to accompany you there, to our former home.” He smiled and offered her a mock bow.

On the numerous occasions they had conversed about their special connection and the possibility of having shared a previous life, they had always drawn the conclusion that they had first met at the French Royal Court. Neither of them could quite put their finger on why, but both had a strong gut instinct that it was the case. France, to both of them, felt like their spiritual homeland. This, in part, was the reason they had come here.

Lily wrapped her arms around her man’s waist and pulled him toward her. As their eyes met, the tone between them became more serious.

Jerome gently pressed his lips to hers and slipped his tongue inside her mouth. He slid his hands down her back and touched her bottom, then allowed them to rest there for a while. His already erect manhood pressed against Lily, and butterflies flitted through her stomach. With one quick, easy motion, she pulled the knot out of the small white towel that was wrapped around his waist, and it fell to the floor to pool at his feet.