Read the book: «Weddings: The Proposals: The Brooding Frenchman's Proposal / Memo: The Billionaire's Proposal / The Playboy Firefighter's Proposal»

Weddings
The
Proposals
The Brooding Frenchman’s Proposal
Rebecca Winters

Memo: The Billionaire’s Proposal
Melissa McClone

The Playboy Firefighter’s Proposal
Emily Forbes

www.millsandboon.co.uk

The Brooding Frenchman’s Proposal

Dear Reader,

Have you ever been in the uncomfortable position of knowing someone didn’t like you, but you didn’t know why? Was it the way you looked, or the way you expressed yourself? Did you remind them of someone they’d had a problem with, or maybe someone who had rejected them? And did the situation get worse the more you tried to make a favourable impression or tried to get along and be their friend? How did things turn out for you?

I’ve had such an experience in my life and to this day I don’t have an answer. In the end I was forced to let it go as one of those unsolved mysteries.

In this latest novel, Laura is a guest in a French household where one brooding member has made up his mind against her with devastating results—because her heart is involved. You’ll have to read on to see how the story unfolds—how little by little certain truths are revealed and love ends up healing all wounds.

ENJOY!

Rebecca Winters

About the Author

REBECCA WINTERS, whose family of four children has now swelled to include three beautiful grandchildren, lives in Salt Lake City, Utah, in the land of the Rocky Mountains. With canyons and high alpine meadows full of wild flowers, she never runs out of places to explore. They, plus her favourite vacation spots in Europe, often end up as backgrounds for her Mills & Boon® romance novels—because writing is her passion, along with her family and her church. Rebecca loves to hear from her readers. If you wish to e-mail her, please visit her website at: www.cleanromances.com.

To all you wonderful readers who’ve been so

faithful and have sent words of kindness and

appreciation through your letters and e-mails.

Every author should be so lucky.

CHAPTER ONE

TOWARD evening, Laura Aldridge, dressed in a cocktail dress of apricot-colored chiffon, stepped out onto the balcony of her bedroom at the Laroche villa. It overlooked the shimmering blue Mediterranean, and down a few steps lay a crescent-shaped swimming pool to complete the magical setting.

Located on Cap Ferrat, a small peninsula on the French Riviera, the villa, heavily guarded with security, formed part of the treasured real estate of the European aristocracy.

The balmy air of early July felt like the tropics. She lifted her fine-boned face to the gentle breeze filled with the scent of roses. It teased the ends of her palegold hair and caused the chiffon to flutter against her generously proportioned figure.

For the first time in six months Laura could breathe more easily knowing Ted didn’t have a clue where she was. The men he’d hired to keep tabs on her, his way of reminding her she was his possession and he was going to get her back, wouldn’t have been able to trace the helicopter that had whisked her here earlier today. To elude him for a few hours, let alone a day and a night, was so liberating she wished she could disappear from his radar forever.

Since her legal separation from Ted Stillman, Laura had been going by her maiden name of Aldridge while she fought for the divorce he’d vowed never to give her. He wasn’t about to let her spoil his run for congress next year. By threatening to use the millions of dollars from his high-profile, politically ambitious family to keep their case tangled up in the courts, he hoped to bring her to her senses.

It would be to his detriment though, because she refused to go back to him and had no desire to ever get married again. She’d removed her rings. All she cared about now was never having to see him again. Being thousands of miles away from the Stillman political machine helped. Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat was the playground of princes, and not even Ted’s family with all their influence and connections had an entrée to it—thank heaven.

By a stroke of fate she was the guest of Guy Laroche and his wife, Chantelle, whom she’d met eleven years earlier in California. The summer before starting college Laura had been a part-time lifeguard and babysitter at the five-star Manhattan Beach Resort Hotel catering to VIPs from all over the world. Her boss had assigned her to baby sit the Laroche child, impressing upon her that the Laroche name moved mountains in the financial world of the Côte d’Azur.

They’d brought their one-year-old son Paul with them, a little boy Laura absolutely adored. Over that ten-day period he went from clinging to chairs and tables, to taking a few steps on his own toward her. His endearing ways caught at her heart. And she had often dreamed that one day she would have a darling, dark-haired boy of her own just like him.

When the three of them had flown on to Hawaii, Laura had felt a wrench to see them go. In that short time Chantelle had almost become like an older sister to her, and Guy had been the most charming man Laura had ever met. The French couple had been so in love and so crazy about Paul, it had been a joy to get to know them.

They’d all become such good friends, and the Laroches had made Laura promise that if she were ever to travel to France, she could stay with them for as long as she wanted. In the beginning they had sent her postcards from all their travels and pictures of Paul from Cap Ferrat where they lived, but in time they lost touch.

It wasn’t until two days ago, while Laura was on a work assignment in Siena, Italy, for the Palio horse race, that she heard some tourists speaking French and remembered the French couple and their baby. Though she’d be flying home from Rome shortly, she decided to phone the Laroche company and see if she could reach them just to say hello.

When Guy had realized who was calling, he sounded overjoyed to hear from her. By an amazing coincidence he and Paul were joining old friends in Siena to watch the Palio, something they did every year, and Guy had insisted on meeting up with Laura there. She would sit at his table for dinner while they got reacquainted.

Laura wondered why he didn’t mention Chantelle coming with him, but since he didn’t offer an explanation, she didn’t ask.

Late yesterday afternoon she’d had her reunion with Guy and little Paul, who was now twelve and as handsome as she’d imagined. Though it was a heartwarming moment, she sensed right away that something was wrong.

Guy had changed from the fun-loving man she remembered into someone who looked older than his forty-four years. His dark-brown hair had traces of silver and his patrician features were more pronounced. He’d become so serious. Paul, too, seemed too sober and polite for a boy his age.

After seating Laura at his right, Guy made all the introductions, starting with his good friend Maurice Charrière and his wife Yvette. They’d brought their son Remy who was good friends with Paul. Once Laura had met everyone they began eating, but at one point Guy started to choke on his food.

Since Laura was sitting next to him, she didn’t notice his distress at first. Neither did the party of intelligent, well-dressed people with him. When he tried to stand up, it became clear he was struggling. They all looked horrified and got to their feet, but no one knew exactly how to help him.

Being a part-time CPR instructor and lifeguard for over a decade, Laura immediately acted on instinct and jumped up from her chair to get his breathing passage cleared. Though she’d saved many lives from near drownings—including her husband Ted’s—this was her first save on land with the Heimlich maneuver.

As soon as Guy had recovered enough to be comfortable again, he was embarrassingly grateful. In his beautiful English he thanked her profusely and made a huge fuss over her for saving his life. Laura assured him that anyone who had knowledge of the Heimlich could have done it and she’d just happened to be in the right spot at the right time. Everyone disagreed and Maurice claimed her to be a heroine.

Later that evening, after the riders had galloped by in all their fabulous trappings, Guy accompanied her to her hotel while Paul stayed behind with Remy and his parents. Before she went up to her room Guy begged her to change her flight until the day after and come to the villa in Cap Ferrat the next day. Chantelle wanted to see her.

Over dinner Guy had informed Laura that Chantelle had been hurt in a car accident three months ago. Though no bones had been broken, she’d been severely bruised on her legs. Now she was physically recovered and could walk the way she did before. However, she clung to her wheelchair like it was a security blanket and refused to get out of it and resume her life again.

Laura cringed to hear the awful news. It explained the dramatic change in him.

According to Guy, the psychological impairment had made her paranoid, unwilling to be with people, but Chantelle had insisted that he bring Laura home with him. Since Laura had finished her work and was ready to fly back to Los Angeles, she didn’t have a reason why she couldn’t accept their invitation. In the end she said she could put off her flight to the States for a day and then fly out on the next flight from nearby Nice.

The following morning Guy had her flown to Cap Ferrat in his helicopter. It landed on his property where a limo drove her the short distance to the entrance of his Mediterranean-style villa. She walked into a world of art treasures, murals, mirrors, Persian rugs and sumptuously appointed rooms decorated in silks and damasks. The classic furnishings mixed with some contemporary pieces made it a showplace and a haven.

After one of the maids had shown her to a dreamy guest suite of pale pink and cream where she’d be staying the night, Guy came for her and took her to see Chantelle who, at the age of forty-three, still looked like she could grace the cover of Vogue magazine in her stunning black-and-white cocktail dress.

When Laura had first met her in California, she’d thought Guy’s beautiful brunette wife had that Audrey Hepburn look … small, graceful. But the thing that struck Laura now was the lack of vivaciousness that had been an integral part of her personality eleven years ago. Her sad brown eyes seemed to carry the grief of the world in them.

She seemed truly happy to see Laura again, and when Guy had told her about his choking experience, Chantelle had thanked her for saving her husband’s life. She had told Laura that she wanted her to stay at their home for as long as she could, but no demonstrative hugs accompanied her offer. She certainly wasn’t the gregarious person she used to be.

It was so unlike the old Chantelle that Laura wanted to cry her eyes out. Only now did she realize how difficult this change in his formerly, outgoing, loving wife must be for Guy. She could understand why he and Paul were so subdued. According to them, Chantelle had become paralyzed with fear since the accident.

Laura was acquainted with fear and knew that it came in many forms. In the beginning of her marriage, she’d learned things about Ted that had caused her to fall out of love with him. However, fear of reprisal had prevented her from confronting him, let alone standing up to the powerful Stillman dynasty. If she’d had more courage, she would have left Ted within months of the ceremony.

Obviously Chantelle was suffering from a different kind of fear. The experience of being trapped in her car for four hours before someone had found her had scarred her psyche in some complicated way. Laura carried her own psychological scars and couldn’t blame Chantelle for hers, but she understood Guy’s anguish.

Laura thought back to the friendship she’d maintained with one of the people she’d once saved from drowning. The teenager was in his twenties now, but he was still terrified of the water. She suspected Chantelle refused to get out of the wheelchair because she was terrified people would think she was ready to resume life. But as Laura had discovered, you couldn’t make a move until your mind gave you permission.

In sympathy with the Laroches’ tragic situation, she left the veranda and went back in the room to put on some lotion before joining the party. While she was applying it, she heard a rap on the door to her luxurious suite.

She guessed it was one of the maids, but when she opened it she discovered Guy standing there, looking distinguished in a sport shirt and slacks in a linen color. Though he appeared too drawn and worried for someone in his prime, the rest of his body seemed fit enough and tanned.

“Do you mind if we talk for a minute?”

“You mean here?’

“Yes. I’d rather no one else overheard us.”

“If that’s what you wish. Please, come in.”

The foyer led into a sitting room with a spacious bedroom and bathroom hidden beyond the French doors. He sat down on one of the upholstered Louis XV chairs. She took a seat on the Jacquard-print love seat facing him.

Leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees he said, “Before you meet everyone, I was hoping we could talk seriously for a moment. Would your husband be disappointed if you didn’t get back to California right away? I’m asking for a specific reason.”

Up to now Laura had avoided talking about her past, but Guy seemed so intent she didn’t hold back. “I’ve been legally separated from my husband for six months, Guy,” she admitted. “My divorce can’t come soon enough.”

Lines bracketed his mouth. “I’m sorry you’re in so much pain. I had no idea.”

His compassion prompted her to tell him the truth. “Any pain I suffered happened during my two-year marriage, which turned out to be a profound mistake. I assure you the separation has been the cure. My husband is fighting the divorce and keeping tabs on me, hoping to get me to come back to him, but it won’t happen. I plan to win my divorce in my next court appearance.”

She could hear his mind working. “Forgive me for speaking frankly then, but is there someone else waiting for your return?”

“No,” she answered quietly. Even if there were someone, her attorney had told her to stay clear of any man so Ted couldn’t use it for fuel against her.

“What’s wrong with the men in your country?”

“Not the men, Guy. Me. I made an error in judgment when I married my husband. Since the separation I’ve been too busy traveling with my job to think about anything or anyone else. Why do you want to know?”

A sigh escaped his lips. “You’ve met Françoise of course.”

Laura nodded. She was the middle-aged woman who helped out with Paul and provided companionship for Chantelle during the day while Guy was at work.

“She’s going on vacation for two weeks starting tomorrow. I’ve scheduled another woman to fill in, but I was hoping I could influence you to stay on while Françoise is gone, provided your work schedule could allow it.”

“Guy—”

“Let me finish,” he implored. “When Chantelle said you were welcome to stay and for as long as you wanted, I was overjoyed. Since the accident she hasn’t shown an interest in anyone. But she trusts you. After the way you took care of Paul in California, she loved you. Since you two have a history together, it’s obvious she doesn’t feel like you’ll ask more of her than she’s willing to give.”

The man was desperate.

“Much as I’d like to be of help, I’m not a doctor.”

He shook his head. “She already has the best there is. I’m talking about her response to you. If you were to be around during the day, not every minute of course, I’m hoping that one of these mornings soon she’ll start to confide in you like she once did. It’s my opinion you could find a way to help her open up. I’d give everything I had for such a miracle.”

Laura grew restless. “Today she responded to me, but you know as well as I do a short visit is a good one. I’m afraid that if I stayed, she’d grow to resent me being around and close up completely. I wouldn’t want you to take the risk of that happening.”

“There’d be no risk. You’re a very peaceful person, and just what she needs. You handled Paul so beautifully she accepted you without question eleven years ago. That hasn’t changed. It’s why I feel you could be of help. If you would extend your time here a little longer, who knows what could happen.”

“I don’t know, Guy.”

“Just promise me you’ll think about it,” he begged. “Naturally I would pay you a generous salary.”

Laura drew in a sharp breath. “I’m flattered to think you feel my presence could benefit her, but I would never take your money.” Laura managed just fine on the money she made earning her living, and she hated the idea of receiving money she hadn’t earned herself through hard work, even if she were entitled to it. She hadn’t touched the money the court had ordered Ted to pay her and was thinking of donating it to a charity.

Laura’s experience with Ted had made her wary of men with a lot of money and power. Too late she realized Ted had chosen her to be his trophy wife, not the love of his life. Like all the Stillman men, he had thought nothing of being with other women while hiding behind his marriage to Laura, but it appeared that Guy, who could buy the Stillmans’ assets many times over, wasn’t cut from the same kind of cloth.

“Does that mean you would consider staying here out of friendship then?” His eyes went suspiciously bright. “I might have died at dinner from lack of oxygen if you hadn’t acted as fast as you did. I feel closer to you now than ever. That’s why I’m going to tell you something very personal.

“Chantelle and I have both been given a second chance at life, a life she used to embrace, but since the accident things have changed. We have drifted apart and I feel a gaping hole opening between us. In the past we always attended the Palio with the Charrières. This year she told me to go without her. I only went with Paul because she got agitated when I told her I wouldn’t leave her.

“Something is terribly wrong and holding her back. The psychiatrist working with her is frustrated there has been no breakthrough yet. She hasn’t allowed me to make love to her since the accident. I love my wife, Laura. I’m willing to do anything to get her past that barrier she has erected, but I’m afraid something happened while she was waiting to be rescued that terrified her.”

“Like what?”

“Maybe some monster came along and molested her while she was trapped and she can’t bring herself to tell me.”

Laura shuddered at the thought. She had to agree it was possible, though she couldn’t imagine it. “You don’t think she would have told you?”

He jumped up from the chair. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.” Guy was in pain. The way his voice throbbed revealed his agony.

Chantelle Laroche had to be one of the luckiest women alive to be truly loved by her husband. Not just on the surface, but deep down in his heart and soul where it counted.

She supposed Carl, her boss in L.A., might be willing to let her extend her time in Europe for another two weeks and call it her vacation. She could even make it a working holiday, which she knew would please him. She doubted she could make a real difference with Chantelle, though if Guy was this determined to get his wife back, Laura was willing to try to get on her old footing with Chantelle.

“Tell you what, Guy. My boss should be in his office right now. I’ll phone him and if he says it’s all right, I’ll be happy to stay and see what I can do. Chantelle was so wonderful to me back then, and who wouldn’t adore it here with all this beauty? You live in a paradise only a few people in the world are privileged to see.”

The men Ted had hired to follow her every move would have to possess extra powers to know her location right now. Two weeks free of the Stillman net would be a bonus she hadn’t counted on this trip to Europe. In her heart of hearts she had to admit that in wanting to keep her whereabouts a secret from Ted, Guy’s proposal couldn’t have come at a better time.

He moved closer to grasp her hands. “You are an angelic woman, Laura. I don’t know what good I’ve done in this life for you to come into it again at the moment you did, but I will always be indebted to you. Whatever you need or want, it’s yours.”

“Thank you.” She rose to her feet and accompanied him to the door. “I’ll join you after I’ve made my phone call.”

“I can’t ask for more than that.”

Raoul Laroche slipped into his brother’s villa through a side entrance closest to his own smaller villa on the south of the family’s private estate. He joined Maurice who stood just inside the French doors of the living room. “Eh bien, Maurice. Qu’est-ce qui se passe?”

His head turned. “Bonsoir, Raoul! I didn’t know you were back from Switzerland already.”

“I finished business faster than I thought and got home this afternoon,” he muttered. “As Guy was leaving the office he told me he was giving a party, but he didn’t tell me why. What’s the occasion? Since the accident Chantelle has avoided company like the plague.”

“This is different. He wanted everyone to meet Mrs. Aldridge, the American woman you’re staring at.”

Raoul realized he was staring. It irritated him that Maurice had noticed. “Who is she?”

“The woman who saved him from choking to death.”

His black brows met. “Literally?”

After Chantelle’s accident, the idea that his elder brother had experienced a close call like that wasn’t exactly the best news in what had started out to be a hellish afternoon. He’d received another abusive phone call from his ex-wife, Danielle, swearing she would end her life if he didn’t give their marriage another chance. Raoul had become weary of her attention-seeking tactics and had cut her off, but the distaste he had felt stayed with him.

“Quite literally.” Maurice sounded shaken.

“When was this?”

“Last evening at the Palio in Siena. We were eating dinner with Luigi before the race started. I didn’t realize Guy was even in trouble until she came flying to the rescue. She grabbed him and performed the Heimlich maneuver. Out came a piece of roll lodged in his throat and suddenly he could breathe again. It was over within minutes.”

Raoul murmured Grace à Dieu. He was thankful his brother was all right, but continued to frown. Guy hadn’t said anything to him about the incident while they had both been in the office earlier, and it was strange for him not to share something that had been a life-and-death situation. “What she’s doing here in Cap Ferrat?”

“Guy wanted to do something to thank her and decided a party would be a good way to celebrate.”

“And Chantelle agreed?” Considering the guilt Guy had suffered over feeling responsible for Chantelle’s present condition, not to mention the fragile state of their marriage at this point, this piece of information was somewhat disturbing. The woman was a virtual stranger, even if she had saved him from choking.

“It would seem so. Mrs. Aldridge is extraordinary,” Maurice exclaimed. The awe in his eyes and voice as his gaze wandered over her left little to the imagination. This woman might be at least fifteen years younger, but age didn’t matter when she was built like a mermaid decorating the prow of an eighteenth-century ship.

Even from the distance separating them, she oozed more unconscious sensuality than should be let loose on humanity. Between her wide-set green eyes and a sculpted mouth, his brother’s male guests could be forgiven for halting midconversation to drink in the sight before them. The female guests pretended without success not to notice the goddess floating about in Guy and Chantelle’s house.

The scenario would be laughable if Raoul weren’t one of the males affected by her femininity, which was even more provocative because she was modestly dressed in a summery outfit and seemed oblivious to the sensation she created. But he knew better. A woman who looked like her understood precisely the power she wielded.

Raoul had been targeted by such a woman in his early twenties and had come close to ruining his life because of her. Back then he’d become too physically enamored of her to read the signs, but fortunately he had discovered the truth behind her facade just in time. She’d lied about everything including her name, and had hoped to make Raoul husband number three and live the rest of her life in comfort.

Though it had come as a bitter blow to his pride, he’d survived and had finally gotten her out of his system. When he had met Danielle he had been immediately attracted, and since she came from a good family with money and didn’t need his, he was able to let his guard down and had proposed to her shortly after.

Another fatal mistake. In time his supposedly adoring wife had turned out to be a much worse liar. It had spelled the end of their marriage, and no amount of pleading could ever resurrect the feelings he’d once had for her.

One of the maids offered him a glass of wine. Raoul turned her down, needing something a lot stronger. “How long will she be here?”

“She’s been working on assignment in Europe. I have no idea how soon she has to get back to her job.”

But not to her husband? Raoul mused cynically. She stood five foot seven, maybe eight, a height he discovered held an appeal he hadn’t consciously thought about until now. Again he chided himself for noticing something that shouldn’t even have played in his mind.

“What does she do?” Besides save lives …

Maurice took another sip from his wineglass. “I wouldn’t know. The choking incident took precedence over everything. Guy asked us to keep Paul occupied while he accompanied her to her hotel.”

Ciel! Terrific marriage the woman had. What was Guy thinking? Through shuttered eyes he tracked her movements. “Where’s she from?”

“Southern California.”

The mold of her body ruled out her being a supermodel. She was probably a grade-B actress who didn’t have to act to get a part. All she needed to do was walk and breathe.

His jaded gaze flicked to his sister-in-law who sat composed in the wheelchair drinking her wine, looking young and elegant. And untouchable…

When Raoul thought about the drastic change in her since the accident, his gut twisted. She didn’t need any more trauma. What in the name of all that was holy was Guy doing bringing this woman into their home? The sooner Mrs. Aldridge boarded her flight and left, the better.

He was about to ask more details, but Guy had spotted him standing next to Maurice and escorted his esteemed guest toward him, cupping her elbow with a familiarity Raoul found disturbing, if not repellant.

“Raoul? I’d like you to meet Laura Aldridge. Laura? This is my younger brother, Raoul, the brains of the family. She’s the woman who saved my life yesterday.”

“So I heard,” he murmured, striving to keep his voice steady when what he really wanted to do was take his brother aside and demand an honest explanation. He reached for Mrs. Aldridge’s hand, noticing she didn’t wear a wedding ring. “Enchanté, Madame,” he said on purpose.

Only a woman who was confident in herself would give him a substantial shake in return, yet her hand with its tapered fingers and manicured nails was soft and well shaped … like the rest of her. When Raoul realized where his thoughts had wandered, he cursed inwardly.

“How do you do, Mr. Laroche,” she responded in a polite but dismissive voice, as if she knew he’d been assessing her and didn’t like it.

That, plus the surprising intelligence coming from her eyes and expression put his teeth on edge. “It’s fortunate for the Laroche family that you save lives in your spare time.”

She smiled easily, but it was meant for Guy’s benefit. “It’s one of the things I do for a living.”

Intrigued in spite of his growing frustration over his reaction to her he said, “You’re an EMT then?”

Guy grew serious. “Laura is a part-time lifeguard at Manhattan Beach in California.”

Like Baywatch, Raoul mused. He recalled the reruns from the famous American television show of the late eighties. He imagined most Frenchmen had derived pleasure from watching the female lifeguards plunge into the Southern Californian surf and come back out again. “I didn’t realize the Heimlich maneuver was used in those kinds of saves.”

Her body language didn’t change, but her dark-fringed eyes turned a deeper green. “It isn’t.”

“Which makes me even more blessed,” Guy murmured, his gaze focused on her in a kind of adoration Raoul hoped Chantelle couldn’t see from where she was sitting. It seemed a great deal had gone on in his brother’s world while Raoul had been away on business the last few days.

“It truly was miraculous,” Maurice chimed in.

Guy nodded. “I want you to be the first to know that Laura has made arrangements to take some time off work, so she’s going to be our house guest for a couple of weeks while Françoise is on vacation. I’m hoping her presence will be good for Chantelle.”

Raoul needed a moment to recover from the stunning news. Something didn’t add up here. Last evening was the first time Guy had met this woman. Raoul didn’t buy it. What self-respecting stranger would accept an invitation like the one Guy had offered within a day of meeting each other?

Perhaps Mrs. Aldridge and Guy’s relationship had begun before Chantelle’s accident, and maybe Chantelle understood much more than anyone guessed. This would certainly explain the drastic change in her behavior. If so, his brother was playing a very dangerous game that was so unlike him, Raoul felt as if he’d just been kicked through a stone rampart.

His thoughts reeled. More than ever he was suspicious of the whole situation his brother had orchestrated with Mrs. Aldridge’s blatant eagerness. While her lips curved in a faint smile at Guy’s announcement, a tight band constricted Raoul’s chest, but he couldn’t afford to let his brother see he was affected by the unsettling events.

Was it possible his brother had been hiding an affair that had been going on for some time? Had she arranged to sit near him yesterday while he faked the choking incident, thus giving him an excuse to bring her into the home he’d made with Chantelle? It was as if they’d had a longtime association and only now had decided to make it public.

For years Raoul had considered that Chantelle and his brother had the perfect marriage, which included a wonderful son. He’d never known two happier people. His own travesty of a union brought on by his wife’s lies only highlighted the difference between them, or so he’d thought. Mon Dieu—had Raoul been wrong and his brother had only been putting on an act for everyone?

“How nice you have the kind of job that allows you that kind of freedom.”

The classic line of her jaw became more delineated, as if his comment had reached its intended target and had disturbed her. “I’m very lucky to have such an understanding boss.”

Not luck. There wasn’t a man alive she couldn’t enamor to the point he’d give her whatever she wanted—even Guy, the man Raoul had always looked up to for many reasons, especially for his high principles.

Raoul needed that stiff drink now. Focusing his gaze on his brother he said, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll say hello to Chantelle.” Maybe the mention of his wife’s name might shame Guy back into paying attention to the woman he’d married, but his brother had Mrs. Aldridge on his mind and Raoul’s comment passed him by.

After a brief look at the woman who’d managed to get beneath his skin the way no woman had ever done before, Raoul headed for the bar in the study off the living room. Hopefully a scotch would dull his senses, which had come alive the second he’d laid eyes on her. With fortification he might just be able to face his sister-in-law and not give himself away before he knew all the facts. Raoul intended to have Mrs. Aldridge investigated, because blind or sighted, a man could be excused for succumbing to her, but what did Guy really know about her. With her particular talents, she’d already gotten him to move her into his house.

“Raoul?”

He tossed back his drink before turning to Maurice who’d followed him. “Oui?”

“Can we talk for a minute?”

“Bien sur. Let’s go out by the pool.” He opened the doors that led to the patio area where they could be strictly alone. “What’s on your mind?”

“Your brother.”

He was working up to something. It was possible that like Raoul, Maurice had come to the realization Guy had done something stupid and was going through a midlife crisis. Guy and Maurice had been friends for years. Maybe he could shed some light on his sudden, aberrant behavior.

Raoul eyed him for a moment. “I’m worried about him, too.”

“He’s so desperate at this point, I’m afraid he’s grasping at straws.”

Grasping at straws?

That wasn’t exactly what he’d expected to hear from Maurice. Raoul rubbed the back of his neck in an effort to collect his thoughts.

Was Raoul the only one who could see what was going on here? If so it was because a woman had made a fool of him years ago and he’d learned his lesson.

There was no doubt the situation was desperate. A woman who looked like Mrs. Aldridge wasn’t safe around any woman’s husband. Another vision of her swam before his eyes.

“Yvette thinks there’s too much of an age difference for this to work,” Maurice explained. “I tend to agree with her.”

Ah. Now he understood. Maurice had seen the writing on the wall. The clever man had used his wife and Chantelle’s friend, Yvette, for the excuse to warn Raoul about this woman Guy had installed in the house. A younger woman who’d never be able to relate to Chantelle? But of course that wasn’t what he’d really meant. Maurice was too discreet for that.

Suddenly Raoul felt a distaste for this conversation that bordered on gossip. “In the end it’s Guy’s call isn’t it,” he muttered, wanting to be loyal to the brother he loved. “Now I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me. After my trip, I need sleep.”

He took off for his own villa one swift stride at a time.

CHAPTER TWO

ONCE Guy’s brother had left the villa, Laura could breathe more easily and circulated among the guests. The second she’d sensed his piercing black gaze focused on her, she’d felt tension. No … it was more than that. He clearly didn’t like her and she didn’t know why.

It shouldn’t have mattered one way or the other, yet across the crowded room she’d been perplexed by the hostility she’d felt coming from the brooding, olive-skinned male who stood an easy three inches taller than Guy. Certain body-type characteristics linked them as family, but not so their coloring. Instead of brown hair like Guy’s, Raoul’s longish, almost unruly black hair with dark whorls against his neck, framed brows of the exact color.

He wore the same expensive kind of clothes as his brother, but there the resemblance ended. It was her impression that beneath the silk material covering his chest breathed a physique containing a power barely leashed.

She wouldn’t call him handsome. He was much more than that, but on an entirely different level. Gallic to his aquiline facial features, he exuded an overwhelming male sensuality her body responded to in spite of her efforts to remain unaffected.

Thankful she was no longer the object of his intense male scrutiny, she finished talking to one of the guests and walked over to Chantelle, who was surrounded by several of her female friends including Yvette from the Palio. They chatted, trying to draw her in, but Chantelle remained completely uninvolved, almost as if the party was not happening.

Laura sat down in a nearby chair and massaged her temples where she could feel a headache coming on. To her surprise Chantelle said, “I have painkiller if you need some, Laura. Come with me.”

Laura hadn’t realized Chantelle had been watching her, and her offer was an unexpected glimpse of the woman she had once been. Whatever had prompted it, Laura jumped at the chance to get on the old footing with Chantelle if it was possible.

“I could use some relief. Thank you.”

She followed Chantelle, whose surprised friends parted so she could move her wheelchair out of the salon. Guy caught Laura’s glance and nodded as if to say he was pleased with this much progress.

Chantelle had mastered the art of maneuvering her wheelchair over the Turkish rug covering the marble floor. She fairly whizzed out of the salon and down the right wing of the villa to the apartment where she and Guy lived. Before Laura could open the doors, Chantelle had already done it herself and rolled through the lavishly appointed sitting room to a table where she kept a bottle of pills.

“Take this.” She handed it to Laura. “I have more in my bedroom if you need them.”

“Thanks so much.”

“You’re welcome.” She flashed Laura a glance. “I saw Raoul talking to you earlier. He’s been very protective of me since the accident and can be quite forbidding sometimes, but don’t let him scare you off, Laura. Raoul has his own demons he needs to deal with. Guy brought you to our home at my request. Raoul has his own home. Your being here is none of his business. Good night. I hope you sleep well.”

Laura had been warned and dismissed. “I’m sure I shall. I hope you do too. Good night.”

All the way to her own suite, Laura rehearsed everything Chantelle had told her about Guy’s brother. She hadn’t worked out whether Chantelle liked Raoul or not, but several things had become perfectly clear.

Not only were Chantelle’s mental faculties razor sharp, but this was a house full of secrets. Laura had the premonition that in accepting their invitation, she’d walked into the middle of a war zone where there were landmines ready to go off with one misstep. The trick was to survive for the next two weeks without getting blown up in the process.

She took two pills, intending to go to bed, but she was too worked up to go to sleep yet. A swim in the pool sounded the perfect antidote for insomnia.

After removing her clothes, she slipped on the one-piece white suit she always wore as a lifeguard. With a towel over one arm she walked down the stairs off the veranda to the patio. She put her towel on a lounger before jumping into the water. The tepid temperature delighted her, and with a sigh she lay back and kicked her feet. In this position she could look up at the blue canopy above with its thumbnail moon and twinkling stars. Sheer paradise.

When she reached the edge, she turned on her stomach to do laps, needing the exercise. Back and forth she went at full speed, feeling the tension leave her body, but near the other side she collided with a hard-muscled male body and felt strong arms go around her, pulling her against him.

A soft gasp escaped her throat. She lifted her head to discover Raoul’s dark face just centimeters from hers.

“I … I didn’t realize you were in the pool,” she stammered like an idiot.

“My villa is on the other side of the hedge. I dived in before noticing you,” came his deep, grating voice.

The brothers lived out of each other’s pockets. More than ever she understood Chantelle’s warning.

His black hair was sleeked away from his forehead, revealing the masculine beauty of his bone structure. The combination of scents from the soap he’d used earlier and the fragrance of her shampoo wafted in the air surrounding them.

Without being able to touch bottom, their bodies brushed against each other. As his powerful legs tangled with hers, she felt an unexpected quickening of desire so intense, she could hardly breathe. The flicker in his black eyes meant he’d registered her reaction. This close to him she couldn’t hide the charge of electricity arcing through her. It didn’t help that the dusting of black hair on his chest and legs reminded her just how male he was.

Her attraction to him was so potent, it was humiliating. She flung herself out of his arms and kept swimming until she reached the other end of the pool. When she raised her head, she discovered Raoul waiting for her, not in the least winded. He examined her through slumberous eyes. “Shall we race ten laps? The winner can choose the prize.”

Laura was intelligent enough not to get into any kind of race with him because he’d win, and she wasn’t up to handling the kind of prize she was sure he had in mind. “It has been a long day. I’m afraid I’m too tired to be at my best. Perhaps you should ask Paul. He sings your praises.”

Not willing to prolong this conversation, she executed a backward somersault and swam to the other end of the pool. After climbing out to get her towel she didn’t look back, but she still felt a pair of penetrating black eyes follow her progress back to her room.

A quick shower and shampoo did nothing to relieve her heightened senses. In his arms she’d come alive. It was shocking to realize she could respond like that when she thought those feelings were permanently dead. On his part he’d done nothing to make her aware of him. He didn’t have to. Raoul Laroche was one of those men endowed with traits irresistible to women.

After washing out her suit, she got ready for bed. But when she climbed under the covers, she lay awake for a long time troubled by the sensations still passing through her body. Pure physical chemistry had a lot to answer for. It had little to do with liking or disliking him.

Her mind insisted on going over the interrogation Raoul had put her through earlier in the evening. Every comment or question had stretched the boundaries of civility, and Laura couldn’t help but wonder if he was this unpleasant to every stranger he met or if she was the exception.

The two brothers were the pillars of the Laroche financial world. Maybe they were too closely connected and the lines between their professional and personal lives became blurred more often than was healthy.

Judging by Chantelle’s remarks, Raoul had a history of issues. Though it might explain his acerbic disposition to a point, Laura was at a loss to understand the caustic edge that had been directed at her personally. She wasn’t mistaken about that.

She wasn’t mistaken about the fire he’d lit, either. He’d held on to her a little too long for someone who couldn’t stand her. Of course, men had an easier time separating their rational thoughts from their physical drives, but Laura wished she could view that moment in the pool with the same sangfroid as Raoul.

He wouldn’t have trouble going to sleep tonight. There’d been a number of beautiful women at Guy’s party who could make any man’s pulse race including his, but it wouldn’t mean anything more to him than the pleasure of the fleeting moment.

She hadn’t seen a wedding ring on his finger, which meant Raoul was either a bachelor or divorced. Maybe even separated and waiting for his freedom like Laura. Depending on who asked for the divorce, he could be impatient to be let out of his prison, or dying inside because he was still in love with the woman he’d married.

If he was like Guy, it was probably the latter. That might account for his jaded, pointed remarks meant to inflict pain because he was hurting.

Troubled by Guy’s dark, aloof brother, who unfortunately lived on the estate and shared the pool, Laura turned on her side, willing sleep to come. From now on she’d swim during the day to avoid another encounter like tonight. That way there’d be no accidental coming together in the pool, catching her totally off guard.

For one insane moment she’d thought he had been going to kiss her. What was more insane was that she wouldn’t have stopped him. How bad was that? The temptation to taste his mouth had left her breathless.

Those feelings happened between near strangers all the time. It was called lust, a word she’d heard all her life, but had never experienced until tonight. Such feelings were wrong. Even though he’d been borderline cruel to her, somewhere deep inside she knew he would make a gratifying lover.

Ashamed of her thoughts, she turned on her stomach and pulled the pillow over the back of her head in the hope of warding them off.

Since the moment Laura had left the pool, Raoul had done twenty laps in order to exhaust himself before going to bed. He’d purposely run into her in order to provoke a response, yet it was Raoul who’d been the one affected.

His ploy to keep her in the pool longer had failed. Worse, the fact that Paul’s name came so easily to her lips rankled. If this workout didn’t help him sleep, then he’d have to resort to something medicinal.

As he heaved himself out of the water, he heard his brother say, “Raoul? What are you doing here?”

You mean what am I doing out here when I have my own pool?

That was a good question.

Of course, Raoul could have asked a few salient questions of Guy. What made the situation so precarious was the fact that there was only one reason his brother had sauntered out here in his swim trunks.

Like hungry sharks, two grown men were lurking in waters while they circled around a certain woman’s bedroom. Viewed from a distance, the scene was appalling. Laura had made fools of them both.

“Paul asked me to swim with him earlier.” It was only the truth. “But when I came out here to find him, he was gone. How did Chantelle handle the party?”

Guy walked over to him, his towel slung over one shoulder. “I don’t know. She was asleep when I looked in on her. Did Laura swim with you?”

Was that jealousy Raoul detected?

Guy would be shocked if he knew what Raoul hadn’t done with her but wanted to. Ciel!

The idea that his brother could be having an intimate relationship with her made Raoul see black. “She did a few laps and went in the house.”

“So she didn’t say anything about Chantelle?” Guy sounded worried. He should be. In fact he ought to be petrified!

“Why would she?”

Guy ran a hand through his hair. “During the party they left the salon together. I was wondering what they talked about.”

Raoul shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to ask her in the morning,” he said pointedly. “That is the reason you invited her here, to be a companion to Chantelle, n’est-ce pas?”

His brother nodded.

About now a confession was called for. A little sign of remorse for what he was doing to his wife, not even behind her back at this point! But no such words passed his lips. Instead, much to Raoul’s chagrin, the disappointed look on his face betrayed his true agenda.

Guy had no shame, yet with Raoul watching, his brother couldn’t very well walk up the veranda steps to Laura’s bedroom. For Chantelle’s sake the knowledge that Guy couldn’t be with Laura tonight filled Raoul with relief. On a purely personal note it pleased him no end.

“It looks like you won’t be needing this.” Raoul reached for his brother’s towel. Taking his time, he began to dry himself off. No way did he intend to leave the patio until Guy had gone. Tonight’s assignation had been foiled. Raoul had zero sympathy for his brother.

“I may be late going into the office in the morning,” Guy muttered, showing strains of being beaten. There was no ‘may’ about it. With Laura living on the premises, it was doubtful the company would see him for the next two weeks.

“I’m afraid I won’t be there either. Jean-Luc wants me to look over that complex in Antibes. Why don’t you go with me? We’ll decide if we want to buy it. With Laura keeping Chantelle company, you can get away for a little while without worrying.”

Maybe on the drive he could get his brother to break down and tell him what was going on. They’d never kept secrets from each other in their lives.

Guy shook his head. “Not this time. You go ahead.” In the next breath he left the patio, his mind and thoughts elsewhere.

Raoul stayed where he was. Part of him was torn up inside to see the change in Guy. The other part felt disgust over his possible romantic involvement with the woman Raoul couldn’t get out of his mind. Laura Aldridge was almost fifteen years younger than Guy. On the loose in Europe, he wondered how many other men she’d ensnared before targeting his brother.

As Raoul had learned, a woman like that didn’t have to earn a living. He doubted Laura even had a real job. That business about getting her boss’s permission was a con if he’d ever heard one. She lived off her victims. When she’d had enough and was bored, she moved on to the next poor devil whose bank account held a twelve-figure balance. Why couldn’t Guy see this?

Tomorrow he’d phone his attorney. It wouldn’t hurt to run a check on the American woman. She might not be who she said she was. She might even have a police record on both sides of the Atlantic.

After their parents had died years ago, Guy had always looked after Raoul. Now it was Raoul’s turn to protect his brother from a possible predator who had the kind of face and body to tempt every strata of saint down to sinner.

The next morning one of the maids led Laura to a patio off the dining room, where Chantelle was seated. It overlooked a fabulous, multicolored rose garden. She’d smelled their fragrance last evening and couldn’t get enough of it.

“Bonjour, Laura.”

“Bonjour, Chantelle.” she said back, trying to imitate the sounds. More than ever she marveled at this family. They all spoke English so well. She couldn’t imagine learning French with the same fluency.

Her hostess had already wheeled herself to the rectangular glass table supported by ornate wrought iron legs. Laura put her sketchpad down against one of them and took a seat across from her while another maid served them breakfast. The patio having a western exposure, they were shaded from the hot sun.

“How did you sleep?”

“Once the pills worked, I passed out. Thank you for giving them to me. I need to go to a pharmacy and get some of my own.”

“Anything you need, all you have to do is ask.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

Like Laura, Chantelle had dressed in a white knit top and matching shorts. She looked cool and perfectly beautiful. Laura’s heart felt a wrench to realize that beneath her facade lived an emotionally frozen woman.

“These croissants melt in your mouth.”

Chantelle flashed her an unexpected smile. “I’ll tell the chef.”

Laura chuckled. “To be honest, I feel like I’m in fantasyland.”

“I’ve been there.”

“I know. I tended little Paul while you and Raoul walked around Disneyland. You have no idea how much I envied you your wonderful husband and son. Yours was the kind of marriage I wanted one day.”

When Chantelle didn’t respond to her remarks Laura said, “Actually I’m talking about a completely different place. Your home is a fantasyland—out of this world. Those rose beds are so perfect. You must have the best gardeners on the Côte d’Azur.”

“Before my accident, I did all the weeding myself. Now I have to tell them how to do their job. They miss too many.”

“Let me do it while I’m here—” she blurted.

Chantelle cocked her dark head. “You like gardening?”

“I remember talking to you about the grandmother who raised me, but I probably didn’t mention that we lived in a little forties bungalow in Manhattan Beach. She loved flowers and had me out working alongside her when I was just a girl. It was the one job I loved most, probably because it was outside.”

“Is she still alive?”

“No. She died eight years ago. I kept up the yard until I got married. My husband convinced me to sell it. I haven’t done any gardening since.”

Laura wouldn’t have listened to Ted except that a developer was planning to buy the whole strip of houses around there and build a mall. The price being offered was better than what an individual buyer might pay for it. That had been Ted’s reasoning at the time.

After she had reluctantly sold it, the project had fallen through, but she had a feeling Ted had known it would. He just didn’t want her holding on to her memories. Everything to do with him had been a mistake.

Not liking the direction of her thoughts, she munched on the chilled honeydew melon, her favorite.

Chantelle eyed her over the rim of her coffee. “If you’re serious about the weeding, be my guest.”

“I already am.” They both smiled at the same time. “It would make me very happy to get out there so I can feel useful. My hands are itching to dig into the soil.”

“I know the feeling.”

How sad that Chantelle could admit to such a thing, yet she refused to act on it.

“Tomorrow I’ll ask the gardener to bring you some gloves and the things you’ll need.”

“Thank you.”

“I believe there’s an artist in anyone who loves gardening. After you’ve finished eating, may I see what you’ve been sketching?”

Guy had hoped Laura would draw his wife out, but so far Chantelle was the one forcing Laura to open up.

“I’ll show you now.” She reached for the pad and handed it to her.

After Chantelle flipped the cover over, a soft gasp escaped her lips. She studied the top page, then began thumbing through the others. Finally she raised her head. Her eyes were shining. For just a moment, she was like the old Chantelle.

“You’ve captured the whole Palio—the people … the costumes … the horses … the city—You’re a genius!”

“No—”

“Indeed you are. What medium do you work with when you make these life-size? Oil? Watercolor?”

“Neither. I studied graphic design in college. After I graduated, I went to work for a video game company in California. My job is to provide interesting backgrounds for games which other people in the company develop.”

“Video games? Like the ones my son plays, much to my disgust?”

“I’m afraid so,” Laura admitted. “The technology is so advanced, the industry has taken off. With my pencil I create backgrounds for all ages. This one on the Palio will be used as a horse race obviously. Each horse and rider runs through a separate part of the town with many obstacles to overcome. My job is to find unusual places that suggest games to me.”

“Where else have you been?” Chantelle actually sounded interested and Laura could glimpse shades of her former self.

“Two months ago I spent a week in Hamlin, Germany, to create a background for a children’s game. It’s an adorable town with a lot of carvings. My grandmother read me all the fairy tales. One of my favorites was ‘The Pied Piper.’ I came up with the idea of him leading all the children out of the town and the player has to prevent them from following him by using various methods that take a certain amount of skill.

“After leaving there I went to Holland for a week to sketch the windmills and old gabled houses for another game about stopping the holes in the dikes.”

Chantelle shook her head. “But this is remarkable! You are remarkable!”

“No, but I must admit it’s a lot of fun to get paid a commission for doing something I love. In between times, I still work part-time as a lifeguard at the beach. As you can imagine, I’ve done the sketches for an underwater video game for children. It involves a merman.” An image of Raoul in the pool suddenly flashed into her mind, causing her to take an extra breath.

“When do you have time to see your husband?”

At the mention of Ted, Laura shuddered. “My two-year marriage failed almost from the start, Chantelle. He’s an attorney from a political family, but he assured me he wasn’t interested in politics. I told him I didn’t want to be married to a politician and put him off for a long time until I was convinced he meant it.

“A few months into our marriage I learned he’d always planned to run for Congress. Everything had been a lie. He didn’t love me, all he wanted was to parade me in front of people, something I abhor.

“Six months ago, after I learned he’d been with other women, I found the strength to leave him and file for divorce. He’s refusing to give me one, but in time I’ll get it and he won’t have a choice.”

“Bravo!” Chantelle exclaimed. “Once a liar, always a liar.” She said it with such vehemence, Laura had the idea Chantelle was speaking from personal experience. But surely it wasn’t anything to do with Guy… .

“In Ted’s case it’s true.” Her gaze flicked to her hostess. “He’s nothing like your husband, who absolutely adores you.”

The second the words left her lips, the atmosphere changed. Chantelle handed her back the sketchpad.

Laura couldn’t bear the thought that Guy might have lied about something that could have hurt his wife so profoundly. In fact she refused to believe it. “Has he left for his office, or will he be joining you?”

“He’s in his study on a conference call.”

“Lucky you to have him at home.” Whether it irked Chantelle or not, Laura had said it. “What are your plans today?”

“I’m having my massage in a half hour, then my hair done. Later I plan to do some reading out here.”

“Mind if I sketch while you read? The rose garden, in fact your whole villa with that maze around the back, has given me an idea for a children’s game, but only with your permission of course.”

“What’s it about?” Chantelle sounded pleased by the idea.

“It’s not fully formed in my mind yet. Maybe later you can help me brainstorm.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“Mind what?”

The interjection of a silky male voice sent a small shiver through Laura. She didn’t have to turn her head to know who’d come out on the patio.

“Bonjour, Raoul. What’s going on around here? Doesn’t anyone have to go to work anymore? After being in Switzerland, I would have thought you’d be in your office at the crack of dawn. Instead here you are and Guy’s still on the phone in the den.”

Laura watched him move around the table to kiss his sister-in-law’s cheek. Dressed in a black silk shirt and gray trousers that molded his powerful legs, he looked incredible. “I’m on my way to Antibes on business and thought maybe you and Laura might like to go with me. You could do a little shopping. We’ll pack your wheelchair.”

“Not today. I have other plans, but I’m sure Laura would enjoy getting out.”

Laura’s heartbeat sped up at the mere idea of being alone with him. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Chantelle, but I’m perfectly happy here.” Guy was counting on her.

“Nonsense. You won’t be gone all day, will you, Raoul?”

“That depends.”

Laura had a feeling he’d said that just to get under her skin. Nothing had changed since last night. She could still feel his antipathy.

“Go with him, Laura. The drive might give you more ideas. Paul and his friends will be around. I’ll be busy keeping an eye on them.”

For some reason Chantelle wanted to be left alone and she didn’t care if she pushed Laura on to her complicated brother-in-law. Maybe Laura had offended her by saying what she had about Guy. It probably felt like she was pressuring her.

If any progress was going to be made with his wife, she needed to refrain from talking about her husband in front of her. No matter how anxious Guy was to bring his wife around to her normal self, Laura’s grandmother would remind her of the old adage about eating an elephant one bite at a time.

“By your silence, one would assume you’re afraid to go with me,” Raoul mocked before devouring a croissant. “I promise not to drive off into the sunset with you, Mrs. Aldridge. Whatever would Mr. Aldridge say.”

“Assez, Raoul! If you keep this up, she’ll get the wrong impression.”

“What impression?” His hooded gaze swerved to Laura. “Is that true?” After asking the question, he proceeded to eat a small bunch of purple grapes.

For some perverse reason he enjoyed needling her. Unfortunately, Chantelle wasn’t being any help. Laura had the distinct feeling she enjoyed the repartee. The two of them shared a unique relationship she couldn’t begin to understand.

Making a decision not to be a part of it, she stood up from the chair and reached for her sketchpad. “How soon did you want to leave?”

From the gleam in his dark eyes, her question had pleased him. “Right now.”

“Then give me a minute to change.”

His gaze traveled over her in lazy appraisal. “You look fine as you are.”

“Thank you, but if I’m going to do any shopping, I’d feel more comfortable in a skirt. Where shall I meet you?”

“I’ll bring my car around the front of the villa.”

“Give me five minutes.” She looked at Chantelle. “While I’m out, is there something I can pick up for you? A book you’ve been wanting to read?”

“Nothing for me.”

“A special treat then?”

Chantelle flashed her a smile. “That’s very sweet. Thank you for offering, but non merci.”

Laura planned to bring her back something anyway. Her gaze flicked to Raoul who was eyeing her strangely. “I won’t be long.”

His lips twisted. “Did you hear that, Chantelle?”

She chided him without rancor, “Not all women are as impossible as you choose to believe. A woman as lovely as Laura doesn’t need to primp.”

Not wanting to hear any more, Laura left the patio to change into her wraparound skirt in a taupe color with white trim. Before coming to breakfast she’d caught her hair back in a ponytail with a white scarf. Because she thought she’d be in the house with Chantelle all day, she hadn’t bothered with makeup.

She wouldn’t bother now. Raoul Laroche would have to take her as she was. Hopefully her demeanor didn’t reveal her highly emotional state. It wouldn’t do for Raoul to know how much his nearness affected her.

After filling her tote bag with supplies, she made her way to the front of the house before the five minutes were up. No sooner had she closed the door behind her than she saw a white cabriolet Porsche wheel around the drive.

A cry of alarm escaped her lips. How had Ted found her? How did he get past the security guard? For a moment she felt sick to her stomach.

CHAPTER THREE

RAOUL was surprised to discover Laura waiting for him. To find a woman ready on time had to be a first. He coasted to a stop.

However, the sight of her champagne hair and unmistakable figure made him slow to realize she had a pallor that hadn’t been there when she’d left the table. He had a suspicion she’d seen Guy on her way out and they’d had words. To learn Laura was leaving the villa with Chantelle’s blessing in order to go with Raoul must have upset his brother.

Pleased to have foiled another attempt for Guy to be alone with her, Raoul reached across the seat to open the passenger door for her. She looked good. Most women past their teens couldn’t get away without wearing makeup, but she carried it off perfectly.

Beneath the attractive skirt, her gorgeous long legs were bare. Much to his chagrin he could find nothing artificial about her. The more she underplayed her looks, the more she stood out like a fresh peach warming in the sun, all pink and golden.

Her arm brushed against his as she fastened her seat belt. His body quickened at the contact. The recurring sensation wasn’t supposed to happen. Once she closed the door, he put the car in gear and took off without saying anything. He followed the winding drive flanked by cypress trees until they passed the guardhouse and came out on the coast road.

After a few minutes he said, “If Chantelle had come with us, I would have brought the sedan. Do you mind the top down? I can always put it up.”

“That’s up to you. Frankly I like being able to see all around,” she responded without looking at him.

The women he knew didn’t want to be blown about, but as he was finding out with Laura, she wasn’t your typical female. She didn’t talk incessantly, a quality that should have pleased him since they were going to be together for as long as he felt like keeping her away from Guy. Yet the fact that she appeared so relaxed with him actually irritated him.

“This area isn’t that much different from your coast in Southern California.”

“It’s completely different,” she countered. “The ocean and the sea can’t be compared.” Having been to California on several occasions, he privately agreed with her. “All those ancient little villages I saw from the helicopter tucked away high in the Maritime Alps create a charm like no place else on earth.”

He hadn’t realized Guy had flown her here in the helicopter. That was an unprecedented move on his part. His brother was in deep.

She recrossed her legs, probably on purpose. Among other things it drew his attention to the bone-colored leather sandals encasing her feet. No toenail polish. Everything au naturel. So far he couldn’t see anything he didn’t like and he’d been trying!

“You’ve traveled in Europe before?”

“Some, but not along the Riviera. It’s breathtaking.”

Raoul hated to admit she was too. The truth of it shook him almost as much as the fact that she didn’t give anything away she didn’t want him to know.

He came to the turn for Cros de Cagnes and veered left to follow the coast road. “What is it you do for a living … besides rescue drowning victims?”

She put on a pair of sunglasses. “I draw landscapes to create backgrounds for video games.”

Video games? Raoul had to admit that was one answer he would never have expected. “What genre?” She was an artiste all right, but the kind she was alluding to came as a revelation, if it were true.

“Mostly for children and young adults.”

“No war games?”

“If you mean the kind guys from eighteen to thirty play all day and all night long, then no.”

Whether she was conning him or not, he couldn’t help but chuckle because what she’d said was so true. After she gave him some examples, he was prompted to ask the name of the company she worked for.

“Other World Video Games. You’ve probably never heard of it.”

“I can’t say I have.” So far she’d picked something so safe, he couldn’t accuse her of lying until he’d researched it. “How long have you been doing that kind of work?”

“Since college.”

“Did you get a degree?”

She nodded. “Graphic design.”

While his mind did the math he remembered something. “At breakfast I saw you with a sketchpad.”

“Yes. It’s filled with drawings of Siena and the Palio. I was working on a scene when your brother started to choke. Chantelle wanted to see it.”

To his dismay, every time he asked her a question, she answered it without hesitation. If she had things to hide, he wouldn’t know it from her seemingly forthright manner. So far she hadn’t asked anything of him. The idea that she was merely tolerating him didn’t sit well.

Raoul kept telling himself he was doing this for Guy’s sake, but a part of him knew that wasn’t totally true. Laura Aldridge had captured his attention in too many ways to lie to himself.

Earlier this morning he’d phoned his attorney and asked him to run a background check on her. Louis promised to get back to him when he had any solid information. In the meantime it was up to Raoul to learn what he could from the woman herself. If he asked more personal questions, maybe he could get her to squirm. That’s what he was looking for, to catch her in something that would give away her agenda.

“How do you balance your work and marriage?”

After a quiet interval, she said, “I don’t.”

That’s right. She only had time to concentrate on ruining someone else’s. Her refusal to play his game had just raised the stakes. He took the next right that brought them into Juan-les-Pins, an extension of Antibes.

“I’m going to check out a complex of buildings in the yachting district that our company might purchase for our export line. It won’t take me long. Afterward I’ll drive us through Vence to one of those little villages you referred to. We’ll have a late lunch and do whatever we feel like.”

She nodded as if amenable, but he felt her tension because she’d only been putting up with him until they returned to the villa. He could tell by the rigidity of her body that her patience was wearing thin. That was the crack in the veneer he’d been waiting for.

“Would you like me to stop and get you a drink first?”

“No, thank you. I have a bottle of water in my bag if I get thirsty.”

Still no eye contact. To travel around Europe alone picking up vulnerable men, she’d learned to be independent. It was part of her mystique, another intriguing trait he hated to acknowledge.

A few minutes later he pulled up to the entry of an empty warehouse and parked the car alongside a bank of palm trees. They’d shield her from the sun while he was inside. Jean-Luc, their company’s real estate agent, was already in front of the doors waiting for him.

As soon as he saw them, the older man headed for the Porsche. One look at Laura and he started salivating. It put Raoul in mind of Guy, who would have had the same reaction when he’d seen Laura for the first time. The identical thing had happened to Raoul, causing his own desire and anger to flare.

On impulse and something else he couldn’t put a name to yet, he leaned across the seat and kissed her full on her unsuspecting mouth. It happened so naturally she didn’t have time to resist.

That was the idea. Jean-Luc was bearing down on them. A picture was worth a thousand words, so they said. He was the biggest gossip on the Côte d’Azur. He had to be to stay in business. By tomorrow word would have reached Guy’s ears that his brother was involved with a blond bombshell, and Guy’s hands would be tied.

If he confronted Raoul, Guy would be admitting his own guilt. Though he’d be furious with him at first, it would expose Laura for the opportunist she was. One day Guy would thank him.

But Raoul’s thoughts faded as the taste of her was all he’d imagined and more, prompting him to take his time until she tore her lips from his. “How dare you,” she cried in a low tone.

Her outrage sounded genuine enough, but it came an instant too late because she’d started to respond to him before catching herself. It wasn’t something you could hide. If she was supposed to be involved with Guy, what did her reaction to Raoul mean?

To his dismay another part of him didn’t want to know the answer because for an insane moment he was enjoying himself too much. Raoul couldn’t abide the thought of her responding to him and his brother, too. Yet that was why he’d done this experiment, to find out what kind of woman she really was.

He smiled. “Come on, Laura. After what almost happened in the swimming pool last night, we both know you didn’t mind it all that much.” Satisfied to see the rush of hot color sweep into her cheeks, he left her to her own devices while he levered himself from the car to intercept Jean-Luc.

Denied an introduction, his curious friend would be even more eager to know the identity of the new mystery woman in Raoul’s life.

“Oh-la-la—” Jean-Luc clapped him on the shoulder as they walked toward the doors. “When your ex finds out about that one, she’ll want to scratch her eyes out.”

Raoul grinned despite his torment. “She can try …”

The other man’s laughter rang in the air.

What Jean-Luc didn’t know was that Danielle was no match for the woman whose lips were as soft and lush as the rest of her. In trying to protect Chantelle, it was guaranteed Raoul had opened himself up to an infinite number of sleepless nights and cold showers.

Laura couldn’t stop the trembling. Though secretly thrilled to realize the desire she’d felt last night wasn’t all on her side, she was also terrified. What if one of Ted’s undercover agents had discovered where she was staying and had followed the Porsche to Antibes.

With a telephoto lens they could’ve taken pictures of Raoul kissing her. That kind of evidence could influence a judge into siding with Ted’s attorney to hold up the case. Who knew how long it would take before she obtained her divorce? Laura didn’t dare entertain a relationship with Raoul that could jeopardize everything she’d been working so hard for.

She reached in her bag and drained her bottle of water in an effort to rid herself of the imprint of Raoul’s hard mouth. Those male lips that could twist with mocking cruelty had covered hers with enough coaxing pressure to draw a spontaneous response she’d had no power to stop. Knowing that he had a distinct dislike for her made her physical reaction to him even more unacceptable.

Though their kiss had been real enough, she sensed he’d done it for the other man’s benefit. To what end she didn’t know. If Raoul was trying to frighten her off, he didn’t have to wait until they had an audience. Things were more of a mystery than ever unless Chantelle was somehow behind all this.

It pained Laura to think that Chantelle might have asked her brother-in-law to find a way to get Laura to leave the villa without involving Guy. If she truly didn’t want her husband’s attentions, then of course she’d resent his bringing Laura into their home to try to help. Thinking back to this morning, Chantelle had been adamant that Laura go on the drive without her.

Laura could leave France tonight of course and probably ought to, but she owed Guy a truthful explanation. No matter what, her loyalty was to him. Yet to tell him what had happened today could also hurt him deeply if he didn’t know his brother was working against him to get rid of Laura.

She couldn’t figure it out. The two men’s relationship had to be somewhat normal, didn’t it? Otherwise Raoul wouldn’t have been at the party. Surely if there was real animosity between them, the brothers wouldn’t work together or live in such close proximity to each other.

Stymied by so many unanswered questions and the kiss that still haunted her, she came to the conclusion that all she could do was bluff her way through the next two weeks and avoid Raoul as much as possible. He liked making trouble, but she could give it back if she had to.

If things became impossible, she’d go to Guy and tell him she’d changed her mind about staying. To make a good case she’d tell him she didn’t want his family involved in the event Ted found out where she was staying. Surely he’d understand that. Who knew what complications might arise that could upset Chantelle unnecessarily.

Laura was so deep in thought she didn’t realize Raoul had returned until she heard the door open. In that brief moment she glanced around and their eyes met.

“You surprise me,” he said after starting the car.

“What? That I didn’t run away from you?” She sighed. “I’ve been kissed before by men I didn’t know, even when I wasn’t saving their lives.” Enjoying turning this back on him she added, “If you were that anxious, you should have taken advantage while we were in the pool last night, but then I suppose you stopped short because you were afraid someone might be watching.”

The car leaped ahead. His eyes burned like black fires. “Were you disappointed?”

“I think so.”

“Only think?” he challenged.

For a moment he sounded playful rather than serious, catching her off guard. She couldn’t help smiling.

If this was part of his game, he was good at it. He was gorgeous, too. The most beautiful man she’d ever met in her life. Southern California was full of them. Her husband, Ted, had stood out, but no one came close to the gut-wrenching sensuality of Raoul Laroche.

Then his eyes narrowed on her mouth before his expression hardened, causing lines to darken his features. He turned his attention back to the road leading out of the marina area and in a flash, when she’d felt buoyant for no reason, the moment disappeared as if it had never been.

Instead of the interrogation he’d subjected her to on the way to Antibes, he remained silent during the picturesque drive into the colorful hills with their patches of tuberose and jasmine. The tension between them was almost palpable, but until he explained himself, Laura had nothing to say.

Though she was tempted to ask him to take her home, her pride had gotten in the way. She didn’t want him to think his tactics back there had succeeded in destroying her confidence.

The scent of flowers grew more intoxicating the higher they climbed to the craggy summits. His Porsche was made for these hairpin turns on narrow roads. He handled his car like a Formula 1 driver, removing the worry she wasn’t safe. Any fear she harbored came from her own susceptibility to his potent charisma. Just watching the way the steering wheel responded beneath his strong hands, the fluid motion of his powerful body when he moved, brought her pleasure.

Before long they entered a quaint medieval village perched on a spur of land with a stream running through the rocky gorge below. The sign said Tourettes Sur Loup. She loved the unique names.

He pulled into a parking lot full of other cars and turned off the motor. “I’m confident the artist in you will find something to purchase once we’ve eaten. The village is full of local artisan crafts.”

She listened for that dreaded trace of mockery but didn’t hear it. Relieved he’d decided not to hound her for the moment, she alighted from the car before he could help her. Laura would be all right if he didn’t touch her. If someone was photographing them from a distance, she wouldn’t provide them another opportunity to catch her in an intimate moment with Raoul.

They entered beneath an arched porte with a tall clock tower and followed the main street through the oldest part of the town filled with tourists. “The village was fortified in the Middle Ages,” Raoul explained. “These are the only walls remaining.”

“It’s unreal,” she cried softly, her gaze traveling down a sunken, stone-paved path centuries old.

He led them to a little café where they ate steak aux frites and topped it off with a tarte à l’orange, a village specialty. Replete after the delicious meal, they explored the myriad of shops displaying local crafts. Laura wanted to buy everything, but in the end she purchased nothing except an oval-shaped, locally woven basket full of violets that grew in the region. Their deep-purple color thrilled her.

“I’m paying for these,” she announced, putting some Euros in the woman’s hand before Raoul could pull the necessary bills from his wallet.

He eyed her skeptically. “You’re sure this is all you want? You can’t take flowers back to Los Angeles with you.” Oh how politely he’d said the words, like he was speaking to a child. She got the impression he couldn’t wait for her to announce her departure plans.

For a little while she’d forgotten that Raoul was her enemy, and with that reminder the enjoyment of the last hour vanished.

“They’re for Chantelle.” A thank-you gift for allowing her to stay in their home. “She misses puttering in her garden. I thought she might enjoy these.” Laura buried her nose in the petals to inhale their sweet perfume.

When she lifted her head, she caught a look of something she couldn’t decipher in those black depths before he took the basket from her. A small shiver ran through her as they retraced their steps to the car parked beyond the walled town.

After she climbed in, he placed the basket on the floor behind her seat where the flowers would be protected. This time she was careful not to look at him. That way she wouldn’t be subjected to any more fiery darts of accusation.

Once again they were traveling along the back roads of Provence that were more alive and colorful than any painting she could ever create. They eventually passed through another charming town whose name she couldn’t pronounce.

“This was the home of Marcel Pagnol,” he informed her in a gravelly voice. “In case you don’t know wh—”

“I know,” she cut him off. “Hollywood made his novels world famous. I’ve been seeing Jean de la Florette around every farmhouse and fountain.”

By the shifting of gears she realized she’d irritated him. “You could have played the part of Manon. She was a child of nature, too.”

“You mean the girl who had every man in the village lusting after her?” she inquired. She shook her head despairingly. “You might have spared me that.”

Through the grimace he said, “You’re the one who chose to read something negative into my remark. In my own apparently obtuse way I was attempting to pay you a compliment.”

“You mean to make up for your uninvited advance in front of the real estate agent?”

His lips thinned in response. “I preferred Jean-Luc to think I was having an affair with you.”

“Nice,” she bit out. “There’s nothing a woman loves more than to be considered a man’s girl-toy. Yet I have to admit I’m surprised that a Frenchman like you who knows he’s attractive and can obviously have his pick on a whim has to prove anything.”

She smiled in satisfaction to see the way his fingers tightened on the wheel. Unable to resist she said, “Evidently your agent is a member of the good-old-boy’s network. Every society in the world has them, especially among the exceptionally rich and famous.

“Are you hoping word of me will get back to your latest girlfriend? Or your wife? Or possibly your ex? Or maybe your almost ex? Now I have to ask myself if you’re praying she’ll finally leave you alone, or maybe this woman is another man’s wife and you’re counting on her jealousy to bring her to heel.”

She heard a volley of French invective that needed no translation. “That’s quite a tongue you’ve acquired.”

“It’s been sharpened on wealthy men like you who collect women like some people collect shells.” The Stillman men led the pack.

“How many have there been?” he ground out.

“Thousands! However, I dare say that’s not as many as your fertile imagination suspects.” Laura laughed in pain. “Me thinks I’d better get myself away to a nunnery quick before you become my next victim. Heaven forbid, eh?”

“Heaven forbid,” he muttered so morosely, she felt it to her bones. Ridiculous as it was, his repudiation stung.

They’d reached Nice and were following the signs for Cap Ferrat.

“Now that we’ve gotten all that out of the way, Raoul, maybe we can both enjoy the rest of the short drive back to the villa. The next time you decide to invite me anywhere, better not obey the urge or I’ll know you’re only lusting after me. For your information, that’s the biggest turn-off to a woman there is.”

He turned his head in her direction. “Then how do you explain your response when I kissed you?” came the slithering taunt.

The man was a devil. “Chemical reaction.” Knowing what question he would ask next, she answered it. “And yes, it happens every time. It’s my nature. You already called it and you’d be right because clearly you’re a very intelligent man, so consider yourself warned.”

She was sure he drove them above the speed limit to reach the villa. The second he pulled to a screeching halt, she got out of the car and reached for the basket of flowers. As she turned around Guy came down the steps to greet her. He waved to his brother.

The sight of him was like a balm to her soul and she flew toward him. He put his arm around her, flowers and all and smiled warmly at her. “How was your day?”

“I discovered it’s true. Provence is God’s garden. These are for Chantelle.”

As he took the basket from her, his eyes misted. “Let’s take them in to her. She’ll love them.”

Without a backward glance Laura walked into the foyer with him. The click of the door coincided with the squeal of tires out on the gravel.

Guy looked askance. “Did Raoul tear around with you the whole day like that?

Now would be the perfect time to confide in him about his brother, but she couldn’t do it. Whatever rush he got out of insulting her, it would grow old with time. She could outlast him.

“Of course not. I think he was anxious to get back to his villa for an important phone call with the agent.” Even if it was a lie, it was an innocent one. “Let me freshen up, then I’ll join you and Chantelle.”

“What did he think of the property?”

She averted her eyes. “I’m not sure. He didn’t really say. See you two in a few minutes.”

Once in the guest suite, Laura decided to phone her best friend in California, who lived in the apartment across the hall from her. Cindy, who’d been divorced for a year, was keeping an eye on her place and gathered the mail for her from the box downstairs. In case there was a bill she hadn’t taken care of, she needed to know about it and get it paid. Laura did the same thing for Cindy when she flew to Georgia to visit her family, and the two women had formed a close friendship. If Ted ever came to the apartment when Laura was out, Cindy documented the time so Laura could give the information to her attorney. There was a restraining order on him, but Ted chose to ignore it whenever he felt like it.

When she and Cindy played tennis or saw a film, they commiserated about the men in their lives and talked about the ideal man who would one day sweep them off their feet. One of these days Laura would confide in Cindy about Raoul, but she knew he was far from her ideal man. He was arrogant, frustrating and it was all right for him to make insinuations and ask all the impertinent questions he wanted, but she noticed he never did tell her one thing about himself. The very thought of him triggered a fresh spurt of adrenaline.

Restless as a caged animal, Raoul paced the rooms of his villa, but the bars were invisible. He could step outside anytime he wanted—beyond the flowering hedge if he so desired—in order to have access to her.

He desired all right.

During their outing she’d been playing him with a master hand. The lines were so blurred at this point he didn’t know what was truth and what was the lie. When she had rushed toward Guy like that, all the breath had left his lungs. His brother in turn had showed her the kind of tenderness he felt for someone he truly cared about, loved even.

Was that the result of her saving his life? Could the answer be as simple and as complicated as that?

In desperation he phoned Louis, but his attorney had left his office for the day. If he’d found the information Raoul had requested on her, he would have phoned him back by now anyway. It appeared he would have to wait a little longer.

An hour later, after a shower and shave, Raoul decided to go over to Guy’s and take him aside, lay it all out. He couldn’t go on like this another twenty-four hours.

Laura had said she’d been in Europe before. If his brother had been having a long-term affair with her, then Raoul needed to convince him to give her up for all the obvious reasons. Chantelle would never get better if she thought she’d lost Guy.

His sister-in-law had guts and courage to welcome Laura into their home at her husband’s request. But when she must surely be bleeding inside, how long could she keep up her convincing front?

More to the point, how long could Laura stay under that roof knowing her presence had to be crucifying Chantelle? He raked his hands through his hair, trying to fit all the pieces together, but that was the problem. Just when he thought one would go into place, he discovered it was the wrong piece or the wrong place.

Earlier when Laura had told him she was buying the violets for Chantelle, he could have sworn she’d done it out of kindness, nothing more. At one point the jabs and arrows had seemed to change to gentle teasing. Their conversation had slid in and out of context until he didn’t know where he was with her.

Prepared for the fight Guy would put up, he left the house for his brother’s. Raoul found the family eating dinner on the patio. The basket of violets served as the centerpiece. There was no sign of Laura.

“Hey, Uncle Raoul.”

“Hey, yourself, Paul.”

Chantelle looked up. “There you are. If you want to join us, I’ll tell cook.”

“I’m not hungry, merci.”

His brother, acting as if nothing was wrong, motioned for him to sit down. “How did it go with Jean-Luc? Was he right about the complex? You think it’s worth purchasing?”

What a cool customer his brother was. Raoul could only marvel. “I want a few days to think about it.”

Guy nodded. “Thanks for taking Laura with you today. When I told her how much you dislike playing tour guide, she said she was doubly grateful for the way you put yourself out.”

If that was a direct quote, and it sounded like it was, Raoul had reason to believe Laura had told Guy the truth, that his younger brother had trespassed on his private territory earlier today. That changed the timing of Raoul’s agenda. He would wait and see what his brother did with the information when they were alone.

In case it brought Guy to his senses before things went any further, then it would have been worth it … even if Raoul would always be haunted by the memory of her mouth moving beneath his.

Chantelle swallowed the last of her tea. “Laura assured me she would treasure the memory of your trip to Tourettes. She’s truly une enfant de la nature to bring me these violets.”

At the reminder of their conversation about Manon, the hand in Raoul’s pocket formed a fist. Incredibly it seemed Laura had won Chantelle’s acceptance. Or had she? Was it all pretense?

He gazed around their little tableau à trois. While Paul ate his dinner oblivious to the tension, Guy sat there with no intention of giving anything away in front of Chantelle. She’d probably known about his extramarital affair for a long time. It was understandable why Laura hadn’t yet made up the fourth to this spectacle à Laroche.