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The Brooding Frenchman's Proposal
Rebecca Winters


An irresistible invitation to Château Laroche… Since Laura arrived at his family’s château, Raoul Laroche hasn’t taken his eyes off the golden-haired beauty. But he thinks she’s just another gold-digger, out to snare the Laroche family fortune.The minute she stepped off the boat, breathed the balmy sea air and felt the warm sun on her back, Laura Aldridge knew this trip to France was the fresh start she needed. Though that was before she caught the gaze of a brooding Frenchman…













The bar had grown more crowded since they’d come in, but Laura hadn’t noticed. At the moment Raoul was her whole world.



She held on to him as they made their way back to the auberge. The depth of her euphoria had caused her to be careless. The paparazzi could be taking a million pictures, but suddenly it didn’t matter to her. Raoul too seemed heedless of those things that had been haunting him, making him so cruel to her earlier. Now all that had gone. Nothing registered except this sweet, unexplored heat building between them.


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


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 wildflowers, 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

Don’t miss Rebecca Winters’

next Mills & Boon® Romance

The Greek’s Long-Lost Son

October 2009





THE BROODING FRENCHMAN’S PROPOSAL


BY




REBECCA WINTERS





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


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 pale-gold 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 land-mines 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.




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