The Brooding Frenchman s Proposal

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The Brooding Frenchman s Proposal Page 14

by Rebecca Winters


  “Lie to anyone else, but not me. I feel responsible for having given you the wrong advice.”

  “But you didn’t!” Laura assured her. “You posed a question I had to answer to my own satisfaction. How could you possibly be blamed for that? If I’d never phoned you, I still would have done exactly what I did. When you make a promise to someone as serious as the one I made to Chantelle, you don’t break it without a darn good reason. I needed that week Raoul was gone to be certain.”

  “That’s what makes you my best friend.”

  “Thanks for that, Cindy.” She smoothed the hair away from her temple. “Raoul despised me for not telling him everything the second Chantelle broke down and revealed what was really going on.

  “You know that old adage about the third time being the charm. Raoul’s wife lied to him, couple that with the information I held back from him. Add to that Chantelle’s betrayal. It was the last straw for a man whose psyche is already very dark and complicated.

  “During the time I was there we’d talk for a little bit, then he’d close up. It was inch by inch all the time. I still don’t know that much about him. A man who can’t communicate his deepest feelings isn’t capable of having a relationship, sustained or otherwise. Raoul’s one man who travels alone. That much I learned.” As she spoke Laura felt a sharp pain deep in her heart at the thought of what might have been.

  “I’m sorry,” her friend whispered.

  “So am I, but there’s not a thing I can do about it. When I was at his villa, I saw these pictures of him and Guy when they were little. They both looked so happy. It’s terrible to think a bad marriage can change a person that drastically.

  “Once in a while I saw glimpses of another Raoul with no shadows. The only time we really communicated—” She got the pain in her chest again and couldn’t go on. “You know.”

  “Yup. When it was good, it was very good,” Cindy murmured. “That’s the part I’m waiting for with Sam.” Sam was Cindy’s new love interest, and it had taken a while for the woman to move on after her bitter divorce, but it seemed things were finally looking up for her. Laura was delighted.

  “At least you two are really talking now. Sharing. I’m envious.” When it got bad with Raoul, it was the end of Laura’s world. She shook her head. “I’ve got to stop this.”

  “Want to go to a film tonight? Eight o’clockish?”

  “I was just going to suggest it. Tomorrow my life-guarding won’t start till noon so I can sleep in.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “Speaking of luck, Carl said my sketches of the Chateau d’If won me a week’s vacation even though I already took extra time off in Cap Ferrat. Want to fly down to Mexico with me in September? I’m going to do some sketches of pyramids and temples while I’m there.”

  “Ohh. I’d love to see them. Let me talk dates with my boss and I’ll get back to you.”

  “Good. We’ll get one of those inexpensive package that won’t set us back too much.” She checked her watch. “I’ve got to get going.”

  “So do I.”

  Laura started to put some money down, but Cindy stopped her. “I’m paying this time, remember? How often does a red-letter day like this come along?”

  Hopefully never, since it implied having lived through another ghastly marriage. Laura had no intention of making that mistake again. The only man she wanted had a view on marriage that guaranteed he’d never repeat the experience, either.

  With another merger successfully pulled off, Raoul left the Credit Suisse Banque and told the limo driver to take him to his apartment on the Boulevard General Guisan in Lausanne. He pealed off his suit jacket and tie. By the time he’d taken the private elevator to his penthouse overlooking Lake Geneva, he’d broken out in a cold sweat. It had soaked most of his shirt. He began unbuttoning it.

  There was no point in lying to himself. He was in a depression nothing pulled him out of anymore. Since his marriage to Danielle had fallen apart, work had been his savior. Now not even another business transaction guaranteeing the Laroche Corporation would remain in the black for years to come brought him any pleasure. The realization that nothing seemed to matter disturbed him to a frightening level.

  He needed a shower and a drink, not necessarily in that order. Tossing his clothes on the nearest chair, he headed for the liquor cabinet and almost stumbled over the pile of unread newspapers that had fallen out of the basket.

  “Bonsoir, Raoul.”

  His head reared back before he came to a standstill.

  Chantelle—

  She was sitting in the middle of his couch looking better than he’d ever seen her, wearing an all-black cocktail dress with spaghetti straps. When she dressed for the kill, no one did it with more elegance. Her arms were outstretched on the back of the couch. She’d crossed her legs and was swinging one foot up and down, drawing his attention to her black high heels. She’d cut her hair in a short, becoming style that framed her face.

  “Guy and Paul are meeting us here in fifteen minutes for dinner, so you and I don’t have a lot of time.”

  “For what? I didn’t invite you here.”

  She looked around. “The place is a mess. Marie told me you let her go until further notice. That didn’t sound good.” Her gaze came back to him. She stared without blinking. “Go ahead and get it off your chest. Tell me I’m the most evil, vile creature who ever climbed out from under a rock. Say it! ‘You’re less than a human being, Chantelle! You’re not fit to breathe the same air as your husband and son!’

  “I disagree of course. You can take it up with the Almighty when you get there. From the looks of the way your suit hangs on you, you’re fading fast and it won’t be long.

  “One of your problems is, you never knew a love like mine and Guy’s. He understood the second I told him. He forgave me because that’s what real love is all about. After we made love, he admitted he would have done the same thing I did if our positions had been reversed. Remember something else. I never pushed our son away.

  “Hearing that I was going to die—that I would be leaving Guy—was like a knife cutting the heart out of my body. It was either lie to him or ruin every day of his life sobbing in his arms. I could be much braver at a distance.

  “I don’t expect you to understand me. I don’t expect you to like me, even if I adore you. What I do expect is that you come home. Of course, if there’s a reason you can’t because you’re dying from some incurable disease you picked up rather recently and are too terrified to talk about, then who better than me to use for a sounding board. I’ve been there.

  “Laura forgave me and wished me happiness. Before she went back to California, she left me a letter with a box of my favorite truffles. It said that after seeing Guy and me together, she realized a great love like ours only comes along once in life and she understood why I tried to make my passing easier on my loved ones.

  “I sent her a letter back telling her I forgave her for breaking her promise. I should have known she was so crazy in love with you she couldn’t keep anything from you. Guy has always called her an angel. I believe she is. There’s no guile in Laura. Beneath that gorgeous exterior, she’s good clear through.”

  Raoul heard a sound behind him. When he jerked his head around, Guy was walking toward him with Paul. They’d never looked happier in their lives.

  His nephew eyed him up and down. “I hate to say it Uncle Raoul, but Maman was right. You need help.”

  Guy smiled. “You do.”

  Laura put on some more sunscreen. She’d been sitting on the tower for the last hour. Four in the afternoon was the hottest time and the busiest. The last week of August was the best season of the year for tourists and locals to hit the beach.

  From her perch she saw every sight imaginable. Lots of couples, some holding hands, others playing around throwing each other in the surf. Kids buried up to their necks in sand. Runners splashing in the water, teens playing volley ball. Life.

  Her body gave a little hea
ve of longing. To ward off the ache, she lifted the binoculars to her eyes. In her view she counted eighteen swimmers in the water. The surf was crumbly and didn’t hang well. Not much wave to catch at the moment.

  Five surfers eventually made their way back in on their boards and didn’t go out again. Three kids on tubes moved further down the beach to the jurisdiction of the next lifeguard. Four guys in black wetsuits body surfed for ten minutes, then came in to play with a Frisbee. That left six people in the water. Two people wore life preservers. The other four were waiting to catch a big wave. They would have to be patient.

  Finally one started to form way out. She could hear their shouts as they got ready to ride it. At first she counted four heads being swept in, coming closer, then there were three. The other swimmer had gotten pulled under. She waited for him to pop up again. When he did, she sensed he was in trouble. His head was back and his arms lifted in the air.

  She removed her binoculars, jumped down from the tower and raced into the water at full speed, passing the other swimmers like a torpedo. If he’d taken in too much water, she’d have him back to shore and resuscitated before he suffocated.

  When she was within five feet of him, he slid beneath the water. She immediately did a somersault that propelled her under him so she could get the hold on him to bring him up.

  He was a strong, hard-muscled male with a powerful physique, reminding her of Raoul. With his black hair, he could almost be the man whose memory had tortured her day and night.

  When they broke water, she began the side crawl to bring him in, but he fought her. Sometimes a drowning victim panicked and didn’t understand they needed to cooperate.

  “Lie still and let me help you,” she called out, but he struggled harder than anyone she’d ever saved. She feared she might not be able to do this alone. Frantic at this point, she kicked harder, trying to build momentum until he stopped resisting her. Hopefully someone on the beach realized what was happening and would bring help.

  “Come on—let me do all the work,” she cried in desperation. They were only halfway to shore now. Though it was a short distance, it seemed like miles. Then everything changed. Suddenly the man escaped her hold and she became his victim. With tremendous energy, he got her in the same grip she’d put on him and they headed full force for shore.

  In the next breath he carried her to the beach and sank to his knees before laying her down. She felt his hands cup her face. She knew those hands and that body. Opening her eyes, she was met by a pair of piercing black ones.

  “Raoul—”

  “Don’t talk, Laura,” he whispered. “I’m about to give you the kiss of life. If you fight me, everyone on the beach will know it.”

  In her whole life, she’d never had to be saved, but if she had been drowning, her shock wouldn’t have been as great as it was now.

  He covered her mouth in an all-encompassing kiss that went on and on. For propriety’s sake he couldn’t touch her. His mouth had to make all the contact. Her senses responded, screaming for satisfaction only he could give.

  When she didn’t think she could stand it any longer if he didn’t crush her beneath him, he relinquished her mouth with reluctance and sat back. “How are you feeling now?” he asked in a husky voice.

  She was too dazed, and he was too gorgeous. A crowd had gathered round. She would have to tough her way out of this one.

  Flashing everyone a smile, she rolled onto her side and got up, wiping the sand off her thighs. “Everything’s under control,” she told them. By now a leaner Raoul than she remembered had gotten to his feet, all six foot three of him. “Go on, everyone. Do what you were doing.”

  With smiles, the group dispersed little by little.

  Raoul stared at her. “I for one intend to go on doing what I was doing with you. But not here. I arranged for another lifeguard to relieve you.”

  She looked over at the tower. Sure enough Mike Segal was there with a grin on his bronzed face. He waved and tossed her the beach bag that held all her essentials. Raoul caught it.

  “My car’s out in the parking lot by yours,” he murmured. “Shall we leave yours here, or do you think you’re recovered enough from your near drowning to drive and I’ll follow you to your apartment.”

  She stared boldly at him. “It’s the kiss of life that’s made me so unstable.”

  “Let’s go home and talk about it.”

  Laura started to tremble. “I don’t want to talk. We always get in a fight.”

  His expression grew solemn. “I swear I won’t let that happen.”

  “Raoul—” She couldn’t take it again if they had words and he walked away.

  “I came as soon as I could. You probably need your sandals.” He handed her the bag.

  She took it from him and pulled them out, but her gestures were all done in slow motion. This really wasn’t happening. Raoul wasn’t really here. She’d gotten too much sun and was hallucinating.

  As she bent over, she reeled. He caught her against him and braced her body until she’d put them on. His lips brushed against her neck. “You feel so good I don’t think I can walk, either.”

  “We have to!”

  “Shall I carry you?”

  “No!”

  “We’ll help each other.”

  Instead of two people who didn’t like each other anymore, they put their arms around each other and slowly walked to the parking lot behind the palm trees bordering the sand.

  He opened her car door and helped her in. “Please don’t kiss me,” she cried.

  Without saying anything, he closed the door. She didn’t mean it. The lazy smile he gave her let her know she didn’t.

  Still in a daze she watched him walk over to his rental car. He must have hidden the keys beneath the front mat. Still trembling, she rummaged for her keys and started the car.

  Her apartment was only a mile and a half away. She pulled into her stall, then got out with her bag and signaled for him to park in the guest stall. With a suitcase in hand, he strode toward her. With every step her heart hammered harder.

  He followed her inside the hallway. As soon as she opened her door, she said, “Make yourself at home. You can have the shower first. The bathroom is the first door on the left down the hall past the living room.”

  Afraid to look at him, she took off for the other part of the building. She needed time to absorb the fact that he’d flown to California to see her. After their last parting in his living room when she’d rushed toward Guy’s villa, she was positive she would never see him again.

  Laura gave him ten minutes before she returned and found him in the living room on the couch, looking at one of her video game magazines. He’d dressed in tan trousers and a coffee-colored silk shirt. Everything he wore looked fabulous because he was such a striking man.

  “I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

  He lifted his head and eyed her thoroughly. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Laura showered in record time, then put on a pale-orange sundress with a little white jacket trimmed in orange plaid. She’d washed her hair. After blow-drying it, she fastened it back in a French twist. Slipping into white sandals, she made her way to the kitchen.

  “What can I get you?” she called to him.

  “Water will do.”

  “One water coming up.”

  She grabbed two of them and walked into the other room. Afraid to get close to him, she placed his water on the coffee table before subsiding into one of the chairs opposite him.

  Their eyes met. “You realize I’m never going to live this down with my colleagues.”

  He leaned forward to get his bottle. “It’s past time someone did a favor for the lifeguard who has done at least five hundred saves by now.”

  “You read about that, too?” She unscrewed the lid of her bottle and took a long swig.

  “Since Guy invited a Mrs. Aldridge into his home, I haven’t been able to satisfy my curiosity enough about her.”
<
br />   “Is that why you’re here?”

  “No. I’ve come for an entirely different reason.”

  She pressed her lips together. “How’s your family?”

  He cocked his dark head. “Happier than I’ve seen them in years. Because of you, Guy and Chantelle are on a second honeymoon in Turkey with Paul.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. “That’s the best news I could ever hear. Though I realize what it has cost you to let me know, I thank you.”

  An odd sound came from his throat. “If you hadn’t found the courage to force Chantelle to tell you why she was crying that day, we might all still be in the dark and suffering.”

  She swallowed hard. “You didn’t feel that way about me the last time we were together. I realize that in keeping the truth from you about Chantelle as long as I did, it was the coup de grâce for you.”

  “My behavior was inhuman,” he exclaimed in a voice of self-abnegation. “You have every right to tell me to get out and never come back. Why do you think I pretended to be drowning? It was the only method I could think of that might give me the upper hand long enough to beg your forgiveness.”

  “That was very clever of you, but then I’d expect nothing less from Raoul Laroche. You make a powerful lifeguard yourself. Anytime you want a job, I’ll put in a good word for you with my boss.”

  “What do I have to do to get in good with you?” The velvety question resonated to her bones. When she looked in his eyes, they looked suspiciously moist.

  She fidgeted on the chair. “Since you continually find another reason to see me as the enemy, I don’t know what to say. Do you realize we’ve never lasted more than a couple of hours without you throwing your darts at me?”

  His expression grew bleak. “It began with Danielle. I’ve already told you a little about her, but not nearly enough. When I married her it was with the idea that we’d start a family right away. She knew how much I wanted to have children. After Paul was born, Chantelle couldn’t conceive again because she went through early menopause.”

  “The poor thing,” Laura moaned. “I’ve often wondered why they never had another baby when Paul is so wonderful. It’s sad.”

 

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