Weddings: The Proposals: The Brooding Frenchman's Proposal / Memo: The Billionaire's Proposal / The Playboy Firefighter's Proposal

“Of course not. I think he was anxious to get back to his villa for an important phone call with the agent.” Even if it was a lie, it was an innocent one. “Let me freshen up, then I’ll join you and Chantelle.”

“What did he think of the property?”

She averted her eyes. “I’m not sure. He didn’t really say. See you two in a few minutes.”

Once in the guest suite, Laura decided to phone her best friend in California, who lived in the apartment across the hall from her. Cindy, who’d been divorced for a year, was keeping an eye on her place and gathered the mail for her from the box downstairs. In case there was a bill she hadn’t taken care of, she needed to know about it and get it paid. Laura did the same thing for Cindy when she flew to Georgia to visit her family, and the two women had formed a close friendship. If Ted ever came to the apartment when Laura was out, Cindy documented the time so Laura could give the information to her attorney. There was a restraining order on him, but Ted chose to ignore it whenever he felt like it.

When she and Cindy played tennis or saw a film, they commiserated about the men in their lives and talked about the ideal man who would one day sweep them off their feet. One of these days Laura would confide in Cindy about Raoul, but she knew he was far from her ideal man. He was arrogant, frustrating and it was all right for him to make insinuations and ask all the impertinent questions he wanted, but she noticed he never did tell her one thing about himself. The very thought of him triggered a fresh spurt of adrenaline.

Restless as a caged animal, Raoul paced the rooms of his villa, but the bars were invisible. He could step outside anytime he wanted—beyond the flowering hedge if he so desired—in order to have access to her.

He desired all right.

During their outing she’d been playing him with a master hand. The lines were so blurred at this point he didn’t know what was truth and what was the lie. When she had rushed toward Guy like that, all the breath had left his lungs. His brother in turn had showed her the kind of tenderness he felt for someone he truly cared about, loved even.

Was that the result of her saving his life? Could the answer be as simple and as complicated as that?

In desperation he phoned Louis, but his attorney had left his office for the day. If he’d found the information Raoul had requested on her, he would have phoned him back by now anyway. It appeared he would have to wait a little longer.

An hour later, after a shower and shave, Raoul decided to go over to Guy’s and take him aside, lay it all out. He couldn’t go on like this another twenty-four hours.

Laura had said she’d been in Europe before. If his brother had been having a long-term affair with her, then Raoul needed to convince him to give her up for all the obvious reasons. Chantelle would never get better if she thought she’d lost Guy.

His sister-in-law had guts and courage to welcome Laura into their home at her husband’s request. But when she must surely be bleeding inside, how long could she keep up her convincing front?

More to the point, how long could Laura stay under that roof knowing her presence had to be crucifying Chantelle? He raked his hands through his hair, trying to fit all the pieces together, but that was the problem. Just when he thought one would go into place, he discovered it was the wrong piece or the wrong place.

Earlier when Laura had told him she was buying the violets for Chantelle, he could have sworn she’d done it out of kindness, nothing more. At one point the jabs and arrows had seemed to change to gentle teasing. Their conversation had slid in and out of context until he didn’t know where he was with her.

Prepared for the fight Guy would put up, he left the house for his brother’s. Raoul found the family eating dinner on the patio. The basket of violets served as the centerpiece. There was no sign of Laura.

“Hey, Uncle Raoul.”

“Hey, yourself, Paul.”

Chantelle looked up. “There you are. If you want to join us, I’ll tell cook.”

“I’m not hungry, merci.”

His brother, acting as if nothing was wrong, motioned for him to sit down. “How did it go with Jean-Luc? Was he right about the complex? You think it’s worth purchasing?”

What a cool customer his brother was. Raoul could only marvel. “I want a few days to think about it.”

Guy nodded. “Thanks for taking Laura with you today. When I told her how much you dislike playing tour guide, she said she was doubly grateful for the way you put yourself out.”

If that was a direct quote, and it sounded like it was, Raoul had reason to believe Laura had told Guy the truth, that his younger brother had trespassed on his private territory earlier today. That changed the timing of Raoul’s agenda. He would wait and see what his brother did with the information when they were alone.

In case it brought Guy to his senses before things went any further, then it would have been worth it … even if Raoul would always be haunted by the memory of her mouth moving beneath his.

Chantelle swallowed the last of her tea. “Laura assured me she would treasure the memory of your trip to Tourettes. She’s truly une enfant de la nature to bring me these violets.”

At the reminder of their conversation about Manon, the hand in Raoul’s pocket formed a fist. Incredibly it seemed Laura had won Chantelle’s acceptance. Or had she? Was it all pretense?

He gazed around their little tableau à trois. While Paul ate his dinner oblivious to the tension, Guy sat there with no intention of giving anything away in front of Chantelle. She’d probably known about his extramarital affair for a long time. It was understandable why Laura hadn’t yet made up the fourth to this spectacle à Laroche.

Getting to his feet he announced, “I’m going for a dip in the pool.” Maybe Guy would follow him and demand an explanation. If not now, later.

At some point Laura had to make an appearance. Raoul had nothing to do but wait for everything to play out. He walked through the villa to the patio where he stripped down to his swim trunks and dived in. A good workout was what he needed to release his pent-up negative energy.

Ten minutes later he was finishing his laps when Paul made an appearance from around the side of the house.

Raoul smiled at him from the other end. “Salut, mon gars.”

“Hi.” His nephew, still dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, sat down on the edge and dangled his strong legs in the water.

“Did you have a good time at Claude’s today?”

“It was okay. How long ago did she leave?”

Not sure he’d heard Paul correctly, Raoul swam across to him. “Did who leave? Your maman was sitting at the dinner table ten minutes ago.”

“I meant Laura.”

“I wasn’t aware she’d gone anywhere.” He hoped she was in her bedroom nursing a migraine over her guilt.

“She was going to start teaching me CPR, but I guess she forgot. The maid said Laura asked Pierre to drive her someplace in the limo so papa wouldn’t have to leave maman.”

That bit of news sent a shockwave through Raoul’s body. What destination did Laura have in mind tonight? Had she planned to be with another man she’d met before? Nothing about her added up. There was only one way to find out the truth. He picked up his clothes and started for his house.

“Do you want to stay and swim with me?”

“I’m afraid I can’t right now. I have plans, but we’ll do some laps tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“À toute à l’heure.”

“Ciao.”

Once he reached the house Raoul pulled out his cell phone and dialed the limo driver. Pierre picked up on the third ring. “Oui, Monsieur Raoul?”

“Where are you now?”

“Villefranche.”

“Et Mme Aldridge?”

“She’s walking the grounds of the Villa Leopolda.”