Falling For His Unlikely Cinderella (Escape To Provence Book 2)

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Falling For His Unlikely Cinderella (Escape To Provence Book 2) Page 3

by Rebecca Winters


  They asked Madame Gilbert to make sure the ladder was moved to the third bedroom with the drop cloth, then they left. On their way home, she pulled in to their favorite deli to pick up dinner so they wouldn’t have to cook. After coming back out, she started up the van and soon she’d parked at the side of their apartment. “We worked hard today. Let’s go in. I’m hungry too, Maman.”

  * * *

  After walking around the property with the gardener while they discussed what needed to be done, Raoul had gone to the kitchen for a soda. From the window he’d happened to see the housecleaners leave and couldn’t help focusing his gaze on the sensational-looking woman who climbed in the driver’s seat of the first van.

  When he’d started down the upstairs hall earlier in the day, he’d seen her up on the ladder. She had to be five seven, possessing a shapely figure. For a brief moment he’d caught her against his body to prevent her from hitting the floor. Even now he still remembered how she’d felt and the scent of her flowery fragrance.

  With her glistening black hair pulled away from her face wearing those safety glasses, she cut a picture that refused to leave his mind. In all his experience he’d never met a female with eyes the exact hue of the tassel hyacinths that grew on Fontesquieu property near the vineyards.

  Her coloring was a marvel of nature like Provence itself. It shocked him that he’d become so physically aware of this female when Antoinette’s memory had filled his heart for close to three years.

  That woman had been the love of his life, but before he could marry her, Sabine Murat, the woman he’d broken up with a month before meeting Antoinette, had come back into his life. He’d slept with Sabine once, but realized he didn’t love her. To his shock, Sabine had been to the doctor and was pregnant with Raoul’s baby.

  His world fell apart. He did the honorable thing by giving up Antoinette and marrying Sabine, but he’d lost the woman he’d loved and concentrated on the coming baby, only to learn after its birth that the baby wasn’t his and had died of a bad heart within the first month of life.

  Sabine had lied to him about the baby’s paternity. The news meant he’d been forced to endure needless pain during a soulless marriage, and he divorced her.

  He had only recently learned through Antoinette’s stepsister Nathalie that she’d given birth to Raoul’s son whom she’d named Alain. Now his life had turned to joy so he could start a new life with his boy. Raoul couldn’t wait for everything to be done and left for La Gaude.

  Arlette, Alain’s grandmother, had already gone home in her car. En route he dropped by his former suite in the north wing of the Château Fontesquieu where Sabine had remained during the separation. There were two averaged-sized framed oil paintings of significance to him, plus a set of two journals he wanted bequeathed to him by his great uncle Jerome. They represented the life work of a master vintner.

  It didn’t surprise him to see that before Sabine had returned to her parents’ château in nearby St. Paul-de-Vence, she’d literally cleaned everything out, including those items she knew he valued most. He grimaced as he looked around. Somehow he’d find a way to get them back. As for right now, he had the satisfaction of knowing the whole ghastly ordeal had come to an end.

  Raoul tossed his key on the kitchen counter and closed the door literally on his old life before walking back out to his car. Being with his son had made him feel reborn. He left the estate, eager to be with Alain.

  Tomorrow the man who’d serviced the swimming pools for the former owner would be coming to the villa to check out the indoor pool and get it ready. The outdoor pool had a cover over it. He’d worry about it in the spring.

  Now was the time to teach Alain how to swim. Raoul planned that he and his son would get use out of it every day. In time they’d be going out on the Mediterranean in his sailboat. It was vital his boy be able to handle himself in any kind of water.

  When he thought about tomorrow, the knowledge that the cleaning people would be at the villa for a few more days was an added plus. He intended to find out the gorgeous woman’s name and more.

  * * *

  By 8:00 a.m. Tuesday, Madame Gilbert had opened the back door of the villa to let the cleaners in. Cami and her mother walked upstairs. Today they would tackle the third and fourth bedrooms and bathrooms.

  Maybe the striking owner and his wife had other children who would be occupying these bedrooms, though he hadn’t talked about any. The sight from the third bedroom window looked out on the property’s greenery and outdoor pool. What a wonderful place to grow up.

  When the owner had mentioned his son, she’d felt such love coming from him. A father’s love was a great thing. She missed hers and turned away from the window to get busy.

  After lunch in the van, her mother finished the third bathroom while Cami started on the fourth bedroom. As she was setting up, she heard a knock on the open door and turned her head to see the owner.

  “I thought I’d better announce myself first before you saw me.” That deep masculine voice of his curled its way through her insides. He brought in the ladder from the other room, which he set up for her.

  “Thank you. My mother and I were going to bring it in.”

  “Now you don’t have to. I’ll move it wherever you wish. Just ask.”

  No man had ever looked so good wearing thigh-molding jeans and a T-shirt that covered his powerful shoulders and chest. This time it was her pulse that raced of its own volition.

  She smiled. “I appreciate that. Since I wasn’t up on it, I’ve been saved a trip to the hospital this afternoon.” Before long she’d be going there for something that had nothing to do with a broken bone.

  He laughed, exhibiting a refreshing sense of humor. “I should have asked your name yesterday.”

  “It’s Camille Delon, but those who know me call me Cami.”

  He flashed her an answering smile. “Bonne après-midi, Cami. We weren’t officially introduced yesterday. I’m Raoul Fontesquieu.”

  Raoul Fontesquieu? It couldn’t be. But it had to be. There could only be one. She’d heard his name clearly over the radio.

  Cami swallowed hard as reality set in. She clung to the side of the ladder where she stood. “I heard about the death of your grandfather. I’m so sorry. I never knew either of mine. You and your wife were lucky to have enjoyed him this long.”

  Her comment seemed to bring a subtle change in his demeanor, causing her to realize there were hidden emotions swirling inside of him. Prompted by his silence she said, “Let me congratulate you for being named the new CEO of your family’s company. It was all over the news yesterday.”

  In an instant a frown broke out on his striking features. “I’m afraid bad news travels fast when it’s false.”

  “What do you mean?” The comment had taken her back.

  His lips twisted. “I’m divorced, and won’t be accepting the position as CEO. In time, I won’t be associated with the company at all. However, I’m assuming that the truth will be corrected before the week is out.”

  “Those are pretty colossal mistakes for the media to make.” She was still trying to take it all in.

  “Indeed.” A strange smile appeared. “I came in here to ask if you would take a look at the nursery and tell me what you think about the color I’ve painted it. Is it too deep, or not light enough?”

  It surprised her that he wanted her opinion at all. She couldn’t help be excited. Everything about him had fascinated her even before she’d learned his identity. “Since I haven’t started cleaning the ceiling yet, I’ll come now.”

  Cami followed him down the hall. When they reached the entry, she took in the soft blue that had covered the off-white walls of the room. “It’s perfect, monsieur. You did an excellent job. Are you sure you didn’t head a house painting company in a former life?”

  It was an outrageous comment to make knowing who he was, bu
t she hadn’t been able to resist. Not after realizing he was one of those royals her father had told her about years ago, even if their titles were defunct.

  His laughter resonated in the room. Almost at once his body and expression relaxed, turning him back to the charismatic, virile man she’d hadn’t been able to forget during the night.

  “Call me Raoul, and tell me the truth.”

  “I promise you I just did,” she assured him with a smile. “The blue color you’ve chosen has created a soothing ambience any child would love. With the white cove moldings, I can picture the white furniture you picked out fitting in beautifully.”

  His black eyes gleamed. “Thank you. Now that I have your seal of approval, I’ll have everything I’ve bought delivered on Friday. By Sunday I’ll bring my son home to live with me permanently.”

  She could hear his excitement. “Where is he?”

  He shifted his weight. “You’ve met Arlette Gilbert. She’s his grandmother and has taken care of him from birth.”

  She blinked. But where was Madame Gilbert’s daughter? According to the report on the radio, Raoul had been married to a woman named Sabine Murat. Cami was so confused.

  By now she’s learned enough to realize there were volumes of information he’d left out: like why his son hadn’t lived with him from birth; why the divorce; where the birth mother was; what the reason was for the false news report that went out to the whole world.

  But she didn’t have the right to ask those questions. Cami was one of the cleaning ladies. In another couple of days, she’d never see him again.

  “Your son is blessed to have a father like you who loves him so much and has painted his room. That’s a story you can tell him when he’s older. I lost my father at twelve.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. You were so young.”

  “It was awful. For a while I thought my life was over. Hang on to the relationship with your son for dear life. Nothing’s more important.”

  “I agree.” Again, the emotion in his tone conveyed he was a man of deep feelings.

  She turned to leave.

  “Are you married, Cami?” With her gloves on, he wouldn’t have noticed if she wore a ring or not.

  She paused and looked back at him, surprised at the question. “I was married at eighteen and divorced at nineteen.”

  He studied her for a moment. “Do you have children?”

  Cami shook her head. One month into her marriage proved she’d made a mistake and she was glad she hadn’t gotten pregnant. “I’ve been working ever since. Now I’d better get back to my cleaning.”

  His eyes played over her, sending darts of awareness through her. “Then I’ll see you later.”

  For the rest of the afternoon she worked her head off. When she and her mother left the villa at five, the owner was nowhere in sight. On the way home she told her mom what she’d learned about him and the nursery he’d painted.

  “So...he’s a Fontesquieu... Like I said, money doesn’t ensure happiness. A divorce? A little boy he’s never lived with? Why on earth would he buy that large villa for the two of them when his home is the royal Fontesquieu Château? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Neither does the fact that he turned down the CEO position,” Cami murmured. Most successful businessmen clamored their whole lives to achieve that status, but she already knew he wasn’t like other men.

  Raoul Fontesquieu was his own person. After telling her in a quietly fierce tone that the media had spread lies about him, he could no doubt be formidable on occasion.

  Still, a tremor shook her body. Something had happened to her today, something she hadn’t thought possible. His jaw-dropping appeal had taken her by surprise in a way that made her feel—oh, she didn’t know—thrown off course when her path had been set for so long.

  After they arrived at the apartment and ate dinner, Cami went to the store for a few groceries in their old black Citroën 2CV. It was on its last legs and looked like an umbrella, but it ran. She hoped it would help her find a way to clear visions in her head of the most devastatingly attractive man she’d ever met in her life!

  * * *

  Raoul met the pool contractor Wednesday morning. He walked him down the corridor from the kitchen. They passed the locked study and continued to the end of the house. The square-shaped tiled pool was sealed off with a sliding door.

  The contractor brought in the supplies; a water kit, balancers, conditioners and chlorine tablets used to test the water. Raoul worked with him so he could do it himself from now on, then saw him out.

  Before the applicants for the nanny job started to show up, Raoul took the staircase two steps at a time. He saw Cami in her safety glasses midway down the hall. Behind her he glimpsed one of the other workers cleaning a linen closet.

  Cami was up on the ladder scrubbing the ceiling and moldings. Her loose-fitting hunter green T-shirt couldn’t conceal the lovely shape of her body.

  Afraid to startle her, he stayed where he was. When she saw him she waved with her free hand. “Bonjour, Raoul. It’s okay to approach,” she teased.

  Amused, Raoul strode toward her. “I came to see how things are progressing. You’ve transformed the villa. It sparkles.”

  A smile broke out on her face, beguiling him. “That’s good to hear. Our boss will be relieved.”

  He liked the way she fastened her black hair in a chignon that suited her oval face and high cheekbones. “Is she a slave driver?”

  “Yes. Don’t you agree, Maman?”

  His gaze darted to the older brunette woman who’d just lifted her head and glanced at him from the closet. He saw the facial similarities and smiled at her. “You’re all such hard workers, I’m impressed.”

  Both women chuckled. “Raoul? Meet my mother and best friend, Juliette Delon.”

  “Bonjour, madame.”

  “Bonjour, Monsieur Fontesquieu. It’s nice to meet you. My daughter’s right. Our boss cracks the whip, but she’s nice.”

  “She’s terrific,” Cami chimed in.

  Raoul admired their loyalty. “How refreshing to see a mother and daughter who work well together.” He couldn’t think of a single positive instance within the difficult female circles of the large Fontesquieu family. Years of living together under the roof of the château had done its damage. “I’m glad to have met you, Madame Delon. I promise to give all of you a top rating.”

  “We couldn’t ask for more than that. It means work for another day,” the pragmatic older woman commented before getting back to cleaning the shelves.

  He couldn’t imagine his ex-wife doing manual labor like this, let alone worrying about where her next euro was coming from. Naturally the comparison wasn’t fair, but he couldn’t help but be impressed by the Delons’ work ethic.

  “Don’t let me keep you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Already he knew he’d like to take Cami out to dinner so they could get better acquainted.

  “Isn’t your grandfather’s funeral tomorrow?”

  She’d remembered and had shown concern for his loss though he hadn’t felt it himself. After living around his austere relatives, her natural warmth was like a healing balm. “Yes, but I’ll be back in the afternoon.”

  Cami’s thoughtful gaze met his briefly before he walked away. He’d have preferred to stay and talk, but not while she was working with her mother.

  After going downstairs, he met with two applicants for the nanny position. Neither he nor Arlette were impressed.

  Raoul had been guilt ridden over having to give up Antoinette, knowing the pain he’d caused her. He hadn’t been there for the pregnancy he’d had no knowledge of.

  Once he’d found out, he’d felt responsible for her death and the anguish he’d caused her and her family. On top of that he was well aware how deeply Arlette missed her daughter. Though she could have blamed Raoul, she’d never been any
thing but accepting and wonderful to him.

  His latest worry was what kind of a father he was going to be. Could any nanny he chose measure up or tend Arlette’s grandson with the love and care she and Minerve had provided?

  This was a difficult decision for him to make, in truth the hardest of his life. He decided he’d made a mistake by not bringing Alain to the villa today. During the interviews, Raoul needed to watch the women interact with his son on a first meeting simply to see if there was any chemistry at all. If not, it might be a long time before he found the right person to take care of his precious boy.

  Raoul could only hope one of the applicants sent to the villa tomorrow after three in the afternoon would stand out. He was also looking forward to spending more time with Cami. Besides her having an intrinsic charm that was growing on him, she had a way of encouraging him, of making him feel he could be a good father. Somehow he felt instinctively he could talk to her and connect.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THURSDAY HAD ARRIVED, which meant attending the funeral. Raoul climbed in the Mercedes. “Thanks for picking me up, Dom. Why isn’t Nathalie with you?”

  “We both felt the funeral was no place to introduce her to the family for the first time.”

  “I hear you.”

  “She wanted to go to Arlette’s and help tend Alain. Arlette will be bringing him to your villa in time for the nanny interviews.”

  “What would I do without them?”

  Dom flashed him a glance as they headed for the church. “They’re so thrilled you two have been united, and that you’re his father. They’d do anything for you. They love you.”

  “I don’t deserve it.”

  “Never say that again. As far as I’m concerned, what Sabine did to you and Antoinette was evil.”

  Raoul agreed.

  They pulled in the parking lot of the church where the hearse was parked. “I’ve been dreading today,” Dom admitted.

 

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