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

She opened her tote bag and thrust the sketchpad at him. “Go on. Look inside. I dare you,” she whispered because if she said it in any louder, she’d rouse the security people stationed around the villa.

In an economy of movement he turned back the cover. It was a new sketchpad, the one she’d put in her purse before they left for Antibes. The first three pages were drawings she’d done down on the marina while she had been waiting for him. However, the next twenty contained her series of the Villa Leopolda.

Not even Raoul could argue that she’d had time for a secret tryst and still complete that many detailed drawings in a two-hour time limit. This was the first time he’d seen any of her artwork. He studied each one for an indefinite period. She experienced immense delight watching him eat crow.

Eventually he closed it and handed it back to her. His eyes were mere black slits. “You’re very gifted,” his voice grated.

“But you still dislike me. I can live with that as long as you stay out of my way until the two weeks are up. So far you’ve had trouble in that department.” His lips thinned at that remark. She couldn’t be happier. “As you can see from your own experience, men have a hard time leaving me alone, whatever their private reasons. It gets tiring and I’m tired. May I have a ride home, please?”

After a thorough study of her features, he opened the front passenger door for her. She moved past him and got in, thankful she’d worn pants with her striped top. Every time his searching gaze wandered over her, she felt exposed and vulnerable.

Once he closed the door and went around to the driver’s side, she slipped the sketchpad into her purse, but when she started to fasten her seat belt he forestalled her and drew her into his arms. The action brought her cheek against his freshly shaved jaw, causing her hair to flounce like gold silk. Sensing he was going to kiss her, she hid her face in his neck.

He bit her earlobe gently. “You know we’ve both been wanting this since we met. Why so coy, Laura?”

She admitted it, but he’d chosen the wrong word. It had a connotation that meant she was playing a game, pretending to be shy while at the same time being intentionally flirtatious and silly. Though he hadn’t meant to, he’d brought her back to reality in a hurry.

She moved her head so she could see into his eyes. “That’s right,” she mocked. “From a woman like me you want brazen. I’m afraid I’m all out of that flavor today.”

His face darkened with lines. “Let’s find out, shall we?” He crushed her mouth with his own. Slowly he began devouring her, giving her little chance to breathe with her gathered so closely against him. The primitive nature of the kiss rocked her to the core, calling out her natural desire.

With no other people around, Laura had the sense they were far away from civilization. Alone with this man, she was spinning out of control. It frightened her she could feel this way so fast and she started to pull away.

“I’d say that was an interesting experiment,” he murmured against her lips before allowing her to move away from his arms. “It leaves me to wonder if you respond the same way to other men … to my brother for instance.”

Her head jerked around. Shock set her back so it was difficult to find the words. Her veins had turned to ice water.

“I knew you had your suspicions about me, Raoul, but do you mean to tell me you’ve been kissing me, holding me, and all this time you’ve believed that Guy and I are lovers?”

His features remained impassive. “You have no idea how much I haven’t wanted it to be true.”

“But there’s a part of you that still believes it?”

“Laura—”

“You do!”

He shook his head. “I know Guy wants you for comfort. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

“Comfort is a far cry from a sexual relationship!”

His eyes had a desolate cast. “They can be two sides of the same coin.”

“That’s true if you’re in love. Guy’s in love with Chantelle!”

“She doesn’t want him anymore.”

“So you assume he’s turned to me?” Right now she was so hurt she wanted to die. “I want to go back to the villa. Would that be too much to ask, or shall I just jump out and walk home?”

The tension vibrated between them before he started the motor and pulled out of the parking area onto the main road. He worked with calm precision. His movements automatic. Poetry in motion, but it had the effect of infuriating her more.

The silence on the drive back to Cap Ferrat was louder than any more questions he could throw at her. All the time he’d been vetting her, he refused to satisfy her curiosity about him on a solitary thing.

As he pulled up to the front of the darkened villa she tried to get out, but he’d set the lock. When she glanced over at him, he lay back against the seat seemingly relaxed for the moment, but she wasn’t fooled. He could pounce at the slightest provocation.

“Perhaps now that we’ve both had a chance to cool off,” he drawled, “you’ll tell me the real reason you accepted my brother’s invitation to stay with them.”

She bowed her head. “Since you’ve already been told the first version, perhaps you should be asking your nephew. He was at the Palio and heard Guy ask me to come.”

“Paul doesn’t have a clue about a woman like you.”

“Merci.”

His muffled French curse rent the air inside the car. “You know what I was implying.”

“I’m not sure I ever know what you really mean and I’m too exhausted to undergo another interrogation.”

“That’s too bad because I want an answer. Even you have to agree that after one meeting in Siena while you’re supposedly working, it was highly irregular for you to come into his home the very next morning and end up being his wife’s companion for the next two weeks.”

She flung herself around so she was facing him. “You obviously meant ‘highly suspect.’ I suppose it is … coming from a paranoid, bitterly jaded, twisted mind like yours. It’s evident someone scarred you for life, Raoul, that’s why I have no intention of answering any more of your questions. It would be pointless. Let me out of the car.”

“I’m not through with you yet,” he countered, making no move to undo the lock button at the side.

Laura had reached the limits of her tolerance. “Then let it be on your head.” Without thought for the consequences, she reached over with the intention of pressing on the horn so security would come running, but Raoul was too fast for her and caught her in his grasp.

“Let’s finish what we started a few minutes ago, shall we? Nighttime means we don’t have an audience, so you don’t need to worry that I have any other interest than enjoying myself with you.”

Once more his mouth descended on hers, stifling any sound of protest she made. With an urgency that seemed part of the need that was driving both of them, he coaxed her lips apart again, provoking a kiss from her she couldn’t hold back. Like a match to kindling, the pressure of his mouth, the feel of his hands running up and down her arms set her on fire.

Raoul’s sensuality made her feel things she’d never felt in her life. How could she be doing this after only a couple of days of knowing him? This had to stop, but when she tried to ease away from him, he pulled her closer against him and this time the horn did sound loud and long.

The shrill din brought Guy out the front door where the lights from the foyer of the villa illuminated the interior of the Mercedes. Paul was right behind him. On a groan she moved back to her side of the car, but Raoul held on to her wrist and her action wasn’t fast enough to escape him. They’d been well and truly caught.

Guy came down the steps to open the door for her, but of course it didn’t give. Laura struggled in vain to pull her hand out of Raoul’s grasp. To her chagrin he used the button from the control panel to lower her window.

With her left hand still trapped in his, he leaned across her body. The action caused his shoulder to brush against her chest. “Sorry for the noise, Guy. It was an accident. I hope it didn’t upset Chantelle.”

After a slight pause, “No one was in bed yet. What happened to Pierre?”

“I caught up with him at the Villa Leopolda and told him I’d bring Laura home.”

Guy studied Raoul thoughtfully before glancing at Laura. “Were you able to do some drawings?”

“Yes. The light was perfect.”

“Maman wants to see them. The Villa Leopolda is one of her favorite places. Can I take them to her?” Paul asked.

“Of course. Here.” She reached in her bag for the sketchpad and handed it to him. “Let her keep it tonight. I’ll get it back from her in the morning.”