The Brooding Frenchman s Proposal Page 3

  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 landmines 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 projec
t 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?”