The Brooding Frenchman s Proposal

by Rebecca Winters

  Raoul burst into laughter. “I had no idea you were so knowledgeable about Gallic history.”

  “Chantelle is a fan of one of the most famous French warriors in history.”

  His heart rate sped up. “If you have any other conditions, I’ll do my utmost to grant them.”

  Their gazes fused. “For one day I’d like you to show up without your glasses.”

  “I don’t wear any. My eyesight is 20/20.”

  “I’m talking about those lenses you look through from the inside. You might like what you see without them.”

  If he liked what he saw any more than what was in front of him right now, he was in danger of being consumed by her fire.

  A few hours later Laura came up from the galley of the cruiser with two orange drinks for the boys. She arranged the large umbrella so Paul stayed out of the hot, late-afternoon sun.

  “Will you two be all right if Raoul and I take a swim? We’ll stay near the boat of course.” She made sure his sore leg was elevated.

  Paul nodded. Both of them were too involved in their electronic games to talk.

  “Then we’ll see you in a little while.”

  “Ciao,” they both said at the same time.

  She walked to the rear of the big cruiser where Raoul was waiting by the ladder. In black trunks his powerful, tanned body took her breath. Laura felt his black eyes roam over her as she removed her beach coat.

  He’d been the perfect host so far, but this would be the first time they had been alone since taking the boat out.

  “I swear the Italians invented the greatest word in the world.”

  “You mean ciao,” he surmised correctly.

  Laura nodded. “You can have a whole conversation with it. Hi—goodbye—and in English it sounds like ‘chow,’ meaning food.”

  He chuckled. “Lunch was delicious by the way.”

  “You liked my hamburgers and chips? You weren’t faking it?”

  His expression remained benign. “Would I do that?”

  She started to say yes, then remembered their pact. “I’m glad, then.”

  Recognizing she’d practiced self-control, his eyes smiled, filling her with warmth. “Are you ready for our swim?”

  They were anchored a couple of miles off the point of Cap Ferrat in a calm, pale-blue sea. Conditions were ideal.

  “I’ve wanted to do this since the day I arrived.” So saying she climbed up on the side and dived straight in.

  “How is it?” he asked as her head bobbed up.

  She treaded water. “Fantastic. It has to be close to eighty out here, a good twelve to fifteen degrees higher than the ocean off Manhattan Beach. Come on in.”

  He dived off the top of the ladder, reaching her in a few swift kicks. She loved the way he looked when his black hair was plastered to his head, almost as though the water brought out the primitive in him.

  Pretending he was after her, she did the back stroke around the cruiser so she could watch him. Maybe he could read her mind because he stayed a body’s length away while he did the front crawl, as if he were toying with her before he seized his prey. Each time his head lifted above the water, their gazes connected, making it a little more difficult for her to breathe.

  She swam full circle. When she was almost to the ladder, Raoul galvanized into action. He snaked an arm around her waist and towed her with him the short distance to the bottom rung. By now her heart was fluttering like a hummingbird’s.

  Their mouths gravitated to each other in a long, drawn-out, saltwater kiss that shook her to the foundations. He’d locked his legs around hers, making escape impossible, but she didn’t want to escape—far from it. Being with him like this had transformed her. She felt alive and treasured for herself. Odd how she’d never felt beautiful before.

  His breathing sounded shallow once he’d allowed her up for air. “Let’s go below deck,” he murmured in a thick toned voice against her nape. “I can’t begin to do what I want with you out here.”

  She clung to him. “We can’t anyway. There’s a pair of chaperones on board.”

  “Let’s take them home. I’m going to fix you dinner at my villa where no one will be around to disturb us.”

  Laura kissed his jaw. “I understand you have a pool.”

  “I do. It’s shaped like a full moon.”

  “Do you ever swim in it?”

  “Not for years.”

  “Why?”

  “Have you ever noticed how lonely a pool can feel when you’re the only one in it?”

  She rubbed her cheek against his. “Yes. Did you live there with your wife?”

  “No. Danielle’s from Vence. When we married, she wanted to continue living there. It’s only twenty minutes from my work, so we bought a home there.”

  “I remember it. You drove us through the main street after we left Tourettes. It’s a charming town.”

  “I agree. Her parents still live there.”

  It was heaven to be able to talk to him like this. “How long were you married?”

  His eyes played over her features. “Five years.”

  More than double the length of Laura’s fiasco of a marriage. “Does she still live there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you ever—” She looked away. “I mean, do yo—”

  “No.” He read her mind. “My feelings for her died long ago. Naturally I have memories of us falling in love, but not the emotions that once accompanied them.”

  Laura nodded. “I know what you mean.”

  “Then why are we wasting our time talking about the past?”

  Laura didn’t want to think about it, either. “Can we swim in your pool tonight?” she asked in an aching voice.

  He pressed an urgent kiss to her mouth. “I’m living for a moon bath, as long as you take it with me.”

  As a shiver of delight ran through her body, she heard a familiar voice call out. “Uncle Raoul? When are you coming back?”

  That slight tinge of anxiety was the only power that could have wrenched her from his embrace.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BEFORE Raoul pulled into the boat slip, he saw Guy waving to him from outside the limo. Surprised to have a welcoming committee, he shut off the motor and reached for the ropes to secure the cruiser.

  His brother came onboard to help Paul back to shore using his crutches. “Did you have a good time?”

  The boys nodded. “We had hamburgers for lunch!”

  Guy winked at Laura. “I’m partial to those myself. Come on. Your maman is missing you.”

  Laura followed them to the car with an armload of items. Raoul started to catch up with her to help, but Guy held him back.

  “You have a visitor waiting for you outside your villa.”

  It could only be one person. “Danielle.”

  He nodded. “She influenced the guard to let her through the gate. She called me and said she planned to wait for you no matter how long it took.”

  A full-blown bash to the gut would have been more welcome. Once again Danielle’s timing was unbelievable, particularly in view of his conversation with Laura earlier.

  “It’s all right. I’ll take care of it.” She’d wanted a showdown for a long time. He’d give her one, but not in his house. Their confrontation would be short and sweet, then he’d go for Laura and take her back home with him.

  “One more thing,” Guy said. “Have you made a decision on the warehouse at the marina?”

  “I have, and I don’t think it’s worth it.”

  “Have you told Jean-Luc yet?”

  “No.”

  “Then do it tonight. While you’re at it, tell him you want all gossip stopped and stamped out immediately about the woman he saw you kissing last week or we’re taking him off the payroll.”

  “You’re referring to Laura of course.”

  “You know I am.” Guy sounded angry. Possibly angrier than Raoul had ever heard him before.

  “I’ll do it right now if you wish. May I ask why?
”

  “No. My reasons are personal.”

  The heat of anger flared up in him. “What exactly did she tell you?”

  “It’s what Jean-Luc told me! Why else would Danielle show up on the estate and force her way in? She’s out to cause trouble, and I won’t have Laura dragged into the mess. She saved my life, mon frère. Do you have any comprehension of what that means to me?” His voice literally shook.

  If Raoul didn’t know before, he did now. He couldn’t remember the last time Guy had pulled the older-brother routine on him.

  “Laura has influenced Chantelle to do things I wouldn’t have imagined. I don’t know what we’d do without her and I don’t want to find out. I trust you to deal with the situation, Raoul.”

  After he walked back to the limo and it disappeared around the incline, Raoul got Jean-Luc on the line. It was too late for damage control, but an edict from Guy would ensure the agent’s cooperation from here on out.

  With that taken care of, he called Danielle on his cell phone. The second she picked up he said, “I’m down at the dock. If you want to talk, it will have to be here. Otherwise you’ll be waiting there indefinitely.”

  “I just want to know one thing. Are you involved with that American woman living with Guy and Chantelle?”

  Jean-Luc hadn’t wasted any time. Raoul had no one but himself to blame and instantly regretted his impulsive actions from that day. Guy was right, it wasn’t fair to drag Laura into this mess. “We’ve been divorced a year, Danielle. My business is my own.”

  “You are involved!” she cried emotionally. “How much does she mean to you, Raoul?”

  That was a question Raoul didn’t even want to think about, because he knew that the answer would disturb him. “I’m hanging up now, Danielle.”

  “You can’t marry her, Raoul! You can’t, I won’t let you!”

  He clicked off, then phoned security and told them to escort his ex-wife off the estate. Danielle needed help, and he’d begged her to get it when they were married, had offered to pay for it, but she had always refused.

  Ironically, though, she’d just hit on the truth. Laura was still Ted Stillman’s wife and out of bounds. But Raoul was determined to find out why she was still married to the man, because he knew she couldn’t be in love with him anymore.

  After he reached his villa he received another call, this time from the deputy minister of finance in Paris. The other man was calling an emergency meeting of the economic committee first thing in the morning. Raoul needed to bring all the latest banking figures with him.

  He groaned. To get all that together would take him till midnight. This was one meeting he couldn’t get out of. The night he’d anticipated with Laura would have to be put off. He was beginning to believe the last few hours had been nothing more than an unattainable dream.

  When he tried to reach her to explain, Guy said she was in with Paul. Totally frustrated, he told his brother he had to fly to Paris and would get in touch with Laura later. Guy said he’d tell her, but he sounded more preoccupied than usual. After they hung up, he headed for his bedroom and started throwing things in his suitcase.

  The maid knocked on Laura’s door the next morning and brought her a breakfast tray. On her way out she asked Laura if she needed anything washed. She did actually. It forced her to get up and face the day. After the heavenly afternoon she’d spent with Raoul, her disappointment over not being with him last night had just about killed her.

  Once dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, she put her hair in a ponytail and went in search of Chantelle, who would have had breakfast by now. Another maid informed her Guy had left to take Paul to Remy’s house, but he’d be back shortly. In an aside she mentioned that Chantelle was having a bad morning. When Laura asked if she was ill, the maid shook her head. Guy’s wife had been crying and wouldn’t stop.

  There could be many reasons for her tears. Laura vacillated between doing a little gardening or going to check on her. In the end she walked down the other hall to the master suite. The minute she put her ear to the door, she heard heartwrenching sobs coming out of Chantelle, the kind that couldn’t be dismissed.

  Deciding to take the chance she might get told to leave the villa and never come back, Laura opened the door and tiptoed inside. Beyond their sitting room was the master bedroom, but her sobs came from an adjoining room. Evidently she and Guy lived in separate rooms.

  The door to Chantelle’s room stood ajar. Laura looked in. Chantelle sat on an upholstered bench in front of her dressing table with her head buried in her hands. The wheelchair was pushed away. She wore a lovely lemon-colored nightgown. It looked like she’d been brushing her dark chestnut hair. Such a beautiful woman. No wonder Guy was beside himself.

  Taking a deep breath she said, “Chantelle?”

  She lifted her head to reveal a glistening wet face. “Please leave me alone.”

  Laura was prepared for that. “I can’t. It’s because I see myself in you. No one sobs the way you’re doing unless you’ve reached the breaking point. I reached mine six months ago. If my best friend hadn’t intervened and helped me to leave Ted, I don’t know what I would have done.

  “I didn’t come in here for Guy’s sake. He’s gone with Paul. I came for me because I can’t bear to see you in this kind of pain.” She moved closer and hunkered down next to her. Looking into her eyes she said, “You’ve got to talk to someone. Let me be a sounding board. Please.”

  In the quiet, a gold and crystal clock with angels moving their parts chimed ten o’clock. Laura waited, holding her breath.

  “I’m dying, Laura,” Chantelle said in a dull voice. “I have a brain tumour and I am going to die.”

  She didn’t say it hysterically. It came out as a statement of fact.

  Laura fought her own hysteria.

  “When did you find out?”

  “Right after the accident when they did a CAT scan and an MRI. They found it and said it was inoperable. If I hadn’t had the car accident, I wouldn’t have known until the symptoms began to appear. They said I would start to show signs within three to four months and be dead within a year.”

  “Obviously, Guy doesn’t know anything about this.”

  “No. He’ll find out soon enough.”

  “That’s why you’ve been pushing him away?”

  “Yes. I know my husband. We love and need each other too much. I decided to distance myself so that when things get difficult, it won’t be such a shock to him. He and Paul have each other.”

  Laura groaned inwardly at Chantelle’s desperate situation. “Have the symptoms started?”

  “Two migraines.”

  What Chantelle was doing was more painful for Guy than the death sentence, but in Chantelle’s mind she’d chosen to handle it this way. Laura wouldn’t be able to talk her out of it. Without hesitation she wrapped her arms around her and rocked her for a long time.

  “You can never tell him, Laura.”

  “No. I won’t. But this is affecting everyone, Chantelle. Not just Guy but Paul, too. It’s even been hard on Raoul. He loves you and has resented me for being here to try to help when he can’t.”

  “I know. I purposely didn’t tell him we knew you previously.”

  “Why?” Laura couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  “The more he’s distracted, the more he leaves me alone. He was born with extra radar. He’s not like Guy. Since his divorce and my accident, he’s over here constantly, always trying to get me to do things, hoping I’ll turn back into the old Chantelle. I can’t bear his scrutiny.”

  Laura could relate to that, too. “That’s because he loves you so much.”

  “I love Raoul, too. He is a wonderful brother to me. That’s what has made this so much harder.”

  She bit her lip. “How can I help you, Chantelle?”

  “I want you to stay with us to the end. Paul would be thrilled, and he’ll need you when the time comes. Would it be possible, Laura?”

  “I…I do
n’t know.” There was too much to process at once.

  Chantelle stared at her through drenched eyes. “When Guy said you were calling from Italy, I couldn’t have been happier and told him to invite you to the house. It’s like my prayers had been answered. Little did I know you would save his life that night! I love you, Laura, my family loves you. We need you now.”

  Laura took a fortifying breath. “I’m going to have to speak to my boss again.”

  “You’ll be safe with us. I’d like to see that husband of yours try to bother you here. Guy wouldn’t stand for it.”

  Right now Laura’s thoughts weren’t on Ted. She was envisioning everyone’s pain and trauma over the next few months when Chantelle started degenerating. The thought of it was unbearable.

  “Guy’s going to be back soon. Let’s go out to the rose garden so he won’t know you’ve been crying.”

  “I’ll get dressed.”

  They hugged for another long moment before Laura left the room.

  She wished she could wave a magic wand and restore Chantelle to the happiness of her life before the accident. To think she’d been living all these months knowing she had an inoperable brain tumor…

  For herself, Laura wished she could run into one pair of arms for comfort and know she would always be welcome there. While Raoul was still in Paris, the only panacea for her pain was work, whether it be helping with Paul, doing some gardening or keeping Chantelle company.

  By the next evening she was ready to make that important phone call to her boss. While she was at it, she wanted to send him her latest artwork. In order to do it, she needed access to a scanner.

  Laura glanced at Paul, who’d used his crutches to walk her over to Raoul’s villa from Guy’s. His leg was healing so well he really didn’t need crutches anymore. She couldn’t get over how agile he was again.

  “Are you sure your uncle won’t mind?”

  “Nope. I use his stuff whenever I need it for school. Maman gave you her permission. He won’t be home until tomorrow night. She said that conference in Paris ran over another day. Come on in.”

  Raoul’s home was more contemporarily furnished, but equally elegant. “This is a beautiful place.”