The Brooding Frenchman s Proposal

by Rebecca Winters

  “My grandparents used to live here, but I don’t remember them. Papa said they died in a plane accident.” She’d wondered about Raoul’s parents, yet another scar to add to his damaged heart. “Sit over here and I’ll show you how his scanner works.”

  Laura had brought all three sketchpads she’d filled so far this trip. She needed to download everything she scanned and e-mail it. Depending on what her boss thought of her work, she’d broach the subject of staying in France for an indefinite period. As much as she wanted a divorce from Ted, Chantelle had become her top priority.

  It would mean taking a leave of absence from her lifeguard job. Plus she’d have to discuss the whole situation of her apartment with Cindy.

  After a few run-throughs with Paul on Raoul’s state-of-the-art equipment, she felt she could take it from here. “You’re a whiz, mon ami.” He’d been teaching her some basic phrases. “I think I’m ready, thanks to you. Why don’t you go now. Giles is waiting for you.”

  “Call the house if you have problems.”

  “I don’t plan to have any.”

  He grinned. “Ciao.”

  “Ciao.”

  Once she got the knack of it, the scanning went fast. Before long she’d done the downloading. A press of the button and they were sent. Before she left to go back to the other villa she phoned her boss. He’d be in his office by now. It was after 9:00 a.m. his time.

  “Other World Video Games.”

  ‘Hi, Sandra. It’s Laura. Can I speak to Carl?”

  “Sure. Just a moment.”

  While she waited, she studied a grouping of small-framed pictures on the shelf above his desk. She reached for one of them. Raoul and Guy were just young boys surrounded by family. Laura loved them so much she wanted to steal them.

  “Laura? How are you?”

  “I’m fine, Carl. And you?”

  “Swamped as usual. What’s going on?”

  “I wanted you to know I just sent you a file of all my sketches.”

  “Terrific! Let me take a look while you’re on the line.”

  While they were busy chatting about business, she heard an ear-piercing whistle. “These are fabulous, Laura! I mean really fabulous!”

  “Oh, good. I’m glad you like them.”

  “Like—the guys in the backroom are going to go crazy! Don’t you ever leave me, honey.”

  Carl was the only man she didn’t mind calling her that. “Actually, that’s what I’m calling about.”

  “No. I’m not going to listen.”

  She laughed. “I have to be serious for a moment.” In the next breath she explained her dilemma and ended up in tears.

  When she’d finished he said, “Let me sleep on it and we’ll talk tomorrow at the same time.”

  “Thanks, Carl.”

  “Thank you. By the way, Sandra’s been documenting the number of calls your husband has made to the office. She has the telephone company printouts. The pile is growing.”

  “It’s his funeral, but I’m sorry you’ve been bothered. Tell her I owe her.”

  “No problem. Talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow.” She clicked off.

  “What’s so important about tomorrow?”

  Laura spun around in the swivel chair. “Raoul—”

  He wasn’t supposed to be home until tomorrow night. She shivered to think that if he’d come in a few minutes sooner, he would have heard her telling Carl about Chantelle’s condition. The little picture she was holding fell on the area rug. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She rushed to pick it up and dropped her cell phone.

  Raoul was there so fast their hands brushed. He was still in his gray business suit. When he lifted his dark head, their faces were level. Mere centimeters apart. It only took a little tug to pull her down on the floor next to him.

  “On the flight home I wondered how I was going to get you alone before the evening was out.”

  She’d made up her mind they couldn’t do this until she was free from Ted, but her puny efforts to resist were no match for his hard-muscled strength. He stretched out on his back and pulled her on top of him. Taking his time he threaded his fingers through the fine-spun gold of her hair.

  “Umm…you’ve been out in the sun this afternoon.” He kissed every feature of her face. “Much as I like the taste of your lipstick, I like the taste of the strawberries you had for dinner. They’re sweet like your mouth. You’d have to be a man to know what it does to me.”

  With one hand at the back of her waist, the other spanning her neck, he gathered her tightly against him, searching for her mouth until they clung in a wine-dark rapture.

  One kiss. That was all. It started out slow, then began building, shooting fire through her body until she felt an ecstasy almost beyond bearing. Somewhere outside the euphoric haze holding her in its thrall she heard the phone ringing.

  “Raoul—” she moaned helplessly, but he wasn’t listening. In a dizzying motion she was turned on her back, her face cupped between his hands. He lowered his mouth to her eyelids and earlobes.

  “You’re gorgeous,” he whispered in an aching voice. “I can’t get enough. Three days away from you have been an eternity.” His lips swept over her cheeks and throat before coming back to her mouth over and over again in a rhythm so intoxicating, he might as well be putting her under a spell.

  He was the vortex drawing her in with a hold so strong she had no concept of time or knew where she was.

  “Laura?” She heard Paul on the voice message. “Maman said to call and tell you Uncle Raoul is home so you won’t be surprised.”

  “I should call him back,” she said, trying to roll away from him.

  “He doesn’t expect a response.”

  Raoul slid his hands to her shoulders from behind. The second he touched her, she felt like she was undergoing a meltdown. He removed the picture she was holding in her hand. “I like this one, too,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m eight here. Guy’s fourteen. Give me some time and I’ll show you my baby pictures.”

  She’d love to see them, but her heartache over Chantelle was too great to get back to the happiness she’d experienced a few days ago out on the cruiser. Slowly she moved away from him and started gathering up her sketches.

  He put the picture back on the shelf while his gaze remained riveted on her. “What’s wrong? Where have you gone since I left?”

  She could try to keep her heart from hammering, but when she was anywhere near Raoul, her body reacted with a will that knew no master. This time, however, it was vital she deflect his radar, a precarious assignment under any circumstances, but especially now.

  “While you’ve been in Paris, there’s been a development.”

  Over the past seventy-two hours she’d been forced to come to grips with the knowledge that Chantelle’s days were numbered. There’d been more nights when Laura had cried herself to sleep because she’d had to bear the burden of it alone. Now there were two inconsolable women in the villa.

  His body tensed. She could see it in the rigidity of his jaw. “Go on.”

  “Chantelle has asked me to stay on longer than the two weeks.”

  Raoul shrugged out of his suit jacket and tossed it over a chair back. Rolling up his shirtsleeves he said, “I don’t understand why that’s so upsetting to you when it’s clear the family adores you. Did you say yes?”

  She rubbed her temples. “Not yet.”

  Through slumberous eyes he examined her face and figure. “Come into the kitchen with me and you can tell me why. The heat in Paris was stifling. I need something cold to drink.”

  Whether she should or not, she followed him through his beautiful home to the immaculate kitchen. He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottled water. “Would you like one, too? I don’t have anything else to offer. I haven’t entertained since my divorce. I’m afraid my cupboards are embarrassingly empty.”

  “Please.” After removing the lid, he put the cold bottle against her hot cheek for a minute. She could almo
st hear it sizzle before he placed it in her hand. She took a long gulp while he began drinking his. At one point their gazes collided. Her hand tightened on the bottleneck in reaction to that penetrating look. “If you came to my apartment in Manhattan Beach, I couldn’t even offer you water.”

  He drained the rest and put the empty bottle on the counter. “Does that mean you’re inviting me?” The depth of his tone traveled to her insides, causing her to grow weak with the longing to experience more of his passion. He was like a drug her system recognized and wanted above everything else.

  “I wish I could,” her voice shook.

  Shadows marred his handsome features. “What’s the hold your husband has on you?”

  It was time for the truth. “I fell out of love with Ted soon after we were married. I’m trying to divorce him, but he’s giving me trouble.”

  There was a moment of quiet before he said, “How long were you married before you filed?”

  She took a fortifying breath. “Two years.”

  “How did you meet him?”

  “He was out on the family yacht with a group of friends. They’d come down the coast from Santa Barbara. It was a beautiful day, but there was some wind that had kicked up moderate swells. Four of them decided to swim in the ocean for a little while. I was on lifeguard duty.

  “I’m always looking through my binoculars for signs of trouble. You can usually tell when a person is starting to drown because their hands go up and their head goes back. While I was spotting different people, I saw this swimmer struggling and raced out.”

  “Ted, obviously.”

  She nodded. “When I brought him in to shore, he was in serious trouble. It took a long time to revive him. The paramedics arrived and took over, but they didn’t give him much of a chance to survive. A week later I had a phone call from my supervisor telling me that Congressman Stillman wanted to meet me.”

  “I think I can write the script from here.”

  “It’s transparent.” She laughed sadly. “One thing led to another and I met the older man and his son, Ted. They wanted to thank me for saving Ted’s life. In fact they were so grateful they couldn’t do enough for me. Flowers, dinner at their home.”

  Raoul’s brow lowered. “Sounds like Guy and Chantelle.”

  “But there’s one huge difference,” she declared. “Guy hoped I might be able to help Chantelle. Ted pursued me relentlessly. I was attracted and fell hard for him. He decided he would marry me. I became his trophy wife.”

  The use of that word made his lips thin.

  “He never shared his dream with me about going into politics. I was a naive fool to think we could have a normal life. He insisted I be in all his photo shoots.”

  “I saw one of you on the Colorado River.”

  She bowed her head. “That was a nightmare trip. They all were. We were never home to make a home. Ted demanded I give up both my jobs and be available to him for his campaign. He liked the idea of being a young, hip congressman with a wife he could show off.

  “Too late I realized he had no depth and was just using me. In fact Ted could only love himself. I saved his life and he mistook it for love. So did I. His father encouraged our union because to quote him, ‘I looked good in print.’”

  “You can’t blame him for that,” he said under his breath, but she heard him.

  “Toward the end of our marriage, I refused to go on any more trips with him. His mother begged me to work things out with him one more time. So I showed up at his hotel one night and discovered him with another woman.”

  Raoul bit out an epithet.

  “One of his ex-security men told me it was the usual pattern with the Stillman men. I went back home. On the advice of my friend, Cindy, I found an attorney who wouldn’t be intimidated by the Stillmans and I filed for divorce.”

  “When was that?”

  “Six months ago. Ted’s been fighting it ever since. He’s afraid a divorce will finish him in politics. The Stillman family has never had a divorce. Their record is clean, so to speak, so he has refused to give me one.

  “When I return to Manhattan Beach I’ll take him to court. With the documentation I’ve accrued, the judge will have to grant it unless he’s in their pocket, but I have to be careful.”

  He squinted at her. “Why?”

  “As I told Guy, Ted’s been having me followed in the hope than he can get something on me to hold up the divorce. My attorney told me to stay out of the limelight. I’m still a married woman so I have to be careful not to give him an opportunity to get a photo of me with a man that could be misconstrued in any way.”

  He gave her a brooding stare “You mean like a picture of me kissing you down by the marina that day.”

  She nodded.

  “I’m sorry,” his voice grated.

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad Jean-Luc wasn’t working for Ted. I don’t want anything to hold up my divorce, but now that Chantelle has asked me stay longer, it puts a court date off that much further.” She stared at him. “Did your wife fight your divorce?”

  His chest rose and fell sharply. “Yes, but I had the resources to end it quickly. Is lack of money the only problem holding you up?”

  She nodded. “I earn enough from both jobs to pay my attorney in increments. He’s willing to carry the loan for as many years as it takes me. My problem is, if I stay here, I can’t work so I can’t build up my savings.”

  “You know Guy would give you any amount you need.”

  “I believe he would, but I’d never take it. The Stillmans use their money to buy people and favors. Being married to Ted sickened me on the subject.”

  “Certain marriages have a way of doing that,” he muttered.

  It was time to get off the subject that had brought deep pain to both of them.

  “Raoul…Chantelle said I could use your scanner, but I still want to thank you. I decided to send my latest sketches to my boss. It was a good time to ask him if he thought he could give me a leave of absence so I’ll have a job to return to after Chantelle…no longer needs me.”

  He moved closer. “So you’ve decided you’ll stay?”

  “Yes. In fact, I’d like to get back to the villa and tell her before she goes to bed.”

  “Then don’t let me stop you.”

  Somehow she hadn’t expected he would allow things to end this way. She’d thought he would pull her into his arms and beg her not to go, but obviously he was still battling some dark places in his psyche, left over from his divorce.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WITH her phone in hand, Laura paced the floor of her bedroom. “You’re sure you don’t mind, Cindy?”

  “What else do I have to do? Bringing in the mail and letting the cleaning crew in once a week is nothing! I haven’t seen your husband since last time. Is that good or bad?”

  “I don’t know, but I can’t thank you enough. I’ll make it up to you.”

  “You already have by letting me drive your car when I need one.”

  “It has to be driven once in a while.”

  “Agreed. Now tell me about Raoul.”

  “I haven’t seen him for close to a week. He left for Switzerland again, and now I’ve learned he’s been in Lyon.”

  “I bet you’re dying.”

  “I am.” Laura didn’t know if these trips were partially because he was in some kind of pain he still couldn’t bring himself to share with her.

  “How long a sabbatical has Carl given you?” Cindy asked, tactfully changing the subject.

  “We worked out two and a half more months. More than that and he’ll have to hire someone else.”

  “But Chantelle might live another year. No one ever really knows about these things.”

  “I know. I’d give anything to talk to her doctor, but of course I can’t.”

  “What about Raoul, do you think you can tell him?”

  “I don’t know, Cindy. They are such a close family, it is surely going to destroy them. I don’t know
how I am going to go on keeping this secret to myself for much longer, but I don’t want to break Chantelle’s trust in me.”

  Cindy paused before answering. “I think you know Raoul better than most people, and it seems to me that he is the one you should trust with this. Think about it, Laura, it might help them more than they know right now.”

  “You’re right, Cindy, I’ll think about what you said. Anyway, enough of that. I won’t keep you any longer. Call me anytime.”

  Laura hung up the phone feeling guilty their conversations always kept Cindy up past midnight. But her friend insisted it was the best time. Thank heaven for her; she provided a much-needed outlet. They both did for each other.

  She moved off the bed and went into the bathroom to brush her hair. By now Chantelle would be ready for a morning swim. Laura changed out of her nightgown to her swimsuit and left the bedroom for the patio.

  Normally Chantelle was already sitting there eating toast and drinking her coffee. Laura sat down to breakfast without her. She’d be along, but when it got to be 10:00 a.m. and there was still no sign of her, Laura began to get nervous. Maybe she was having one of her crying spells.

  After checking with the maid, who hadn’t seen her, Laura decided to go to her bedroom as she’d done once before. This time when she walked in, she found Chantelle in her swimsuit and beach robe, but she was lying across the bed, white-faced.

  Alarmed, Laura leaned over her. “Chantelle? Are you having another migraine?”

  “Yes. I’ve taken my prescription for it. Give me another half hour and it will pass.”

  A cold hand squeezed her heart. This was the second attack since Laura had been in Cap Ferrat. “Can I get you an ice pack?”

  “It doesn’t help. All I need is quiet and no light.”

  “Then I’ll go.” Laura felt horrible she’d disturbed her.

  Guy phoned. He always did this time of day to see if his wife needed anything. When Laura picked up and told him about her headache, he said he was coming home from the office. The poor thing couldn’t get any work done while Chantelle was like this.

  By the time he arrived, Laura had showered and dressed for the day in a plum colored skirt with a matching print top. She’d arranged her hair in a French twist at the back of her head secured with a tortoiseshell comb.