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“Thank you.” She rose to her feet and accompanied him to the door. “I’ll join you after I’ve made my phone call.”
“I can’t ask for more than that.”
Raoul Laroche slipped into his brother’s villa through a side entrance closest to his own smaller villa on the south of the family’s private estate. He joined Maurice who stood just inside the French doors of the living room. “Eh bien, Maurice. Qu’est-ce qui se passe?”
His head turned. “Bonsoir, Raoul! I didn’t know you were back from Switzerland already.”
“I finished business faster than I thought and got home this afternoon,” he muttered. “As Guy was leaving the office he told me he was giving a party, but he didn’t tell me why. What’s the occasion? Since the accident Chantelle has avoided company like the plague.”
“This is different. He wanted everyone to meet Mrs. Aldridge, the American woman you’re staring at.”
Raoul realized he was staring. It irritated him that Maurice had noticed. “Who is she?”
“The woman who saved him from choking to death.”
His black brows met. “Literally?”
After Chantelle’s accident, the idea that his elder brother had experienced a close call like that wasn’t exactly the best news in what had started out to be a hellish afternoon. He’d received another abusive phone call from his ex-wife, Danielle, swearing she would end her life if he didn’t give their marriage another chance. Raoul had become weary of her attention-seeking tactics and had cut her off, but the distaste he had felt stayed with him.
“Quite literally.” Maurice sounded shaken.
“When was this?”
“Last evening at the Palio in Siena. We were eating dinner with Luigi before the race started. I didn’t realize Guy was even in trouble until she came flying to the rescue. She grabbed him and performed the Heimlich maneuver. Out came a piece of roll lodged in his throat and suddenly he could breathe again. It was over within minutes.”
Raoul murmured Grace à Dieu. He was thankful his brother was all right, but continued to frown. Guy hadn’t said anything to him about the incident while they had both been in the office earlier, and it was strange for him not to share something that had been a life-and-death situation. “What she’s doing here in Cap Ferrat?”
“Guy wanted to do something to thank her and decided a party would be a good way to celebrate.”
“And Chantelle agreed?” Considering the guilt Guy had suffered over feeling responsible for Chantelle’s present condition, not to mention the fragile state of their marriage at this point, this piece of information was somewhat disturbing. The woman was a virtual stranger, even if she had saved him from choking.
“It would seem so. Mrs. Aldridge is extraordinary,” Maurice exclaimed. The awe in his eyes and voice as his gaze wandered over her left little to the imagination. This woman might be at least fifteen years younger, but age didn’t matter when she was built like a mermaid decorating the prow of an eighteenth-century ship.
Even from the distance separating them, she oozed more unconscious sensuality than should be let loose on humanity. Between her wide-set green eyes and a sculpted mouth, his brother’s male guests could be forgiven for halting midconversation to drink in the sight before them. The female guests pretended without success not to notice the goddess floating about in Guy and Chantelle’s house.
The scenario would be laughable if Raoul weren’t one of the males affected by her femininity, which was even more provocative because she was modestly dressed in a summery outfit and seemed oblivious to the sensation she created. But he knew better. A woman who looked like her understood precisely the power she wielded.
Raoul had been targeted by such a woman in his early twenties and had come close to ruining his life because of her. Back then he’d become too physically enamored of her to read the signs, but fortunately he had discovered the truth behind her facade just in time. She’d lied about everything including her name, and had hoped to make Raoul husband number three and live the rest of her life in comfort.
Though it had come as a bitter blow to his pride, he’d survived and had finally gotten her out of his system. When he had met Danielle he had been immediately attracted, and since she came from a good family with money and didn’t need his, he was able to let his guard down and had proposed to her shortly after.
Another fatal mistake. In time his supposedly adoring wife had turned out to be a much worse liar. It had spelled the end of their marriage, and no amount of pleading could ever resurrect the feelings he’d once had for her.
One of the maids offered him a glass of wine. Raoul turned her down, needing something a lot stronger. “How long will she be here?”
“She’s been working on assignment in Europe. I have no idea how soon she has to get back to her job.”
But not to her husband? Raoul mused cynically. She stood five foot seven, maybe eight, a height he discovered held an appeal he hadn’t consciously thought about until now. Again he chided himself for noticing something that shouldn’t even have played in his mind.
“What does she do?” Besides save lives …
Maurice took another sip from his wineglass. “I wouldn’t know. The choking incident took precedence over everything. Guy asked us to keep Paul occupied while he accompanied her to her hotel.”
Ciel! Terrific marriage the woman had. What was Guy thinking? Through shuttered eyes he tracked her movements. “Where’s she from?”
“Southern California.”
The mold of her body ruled out her being a supermodel. She was probably a grade-B actress who didn’t have to act to get a part. All she needed to do was walk and breathe.
His jaded gaze flicked to his sister-in-law who sat composed in the wheelchair drinking her wine, looking young and elegant. And untouchable…
When Raoul thought about the drastic change in her since the accident, his gut twisted. She didn’t need any more trauma. What in the name of all that was holy was Guy doing bringing this woman into their home? The sooner Mrs. Aldridge boarded her flight and left, the better.
He was about to ask more details, but Guy had spotted him standing next to Maurice and escorted his esteemed guest toward him, cupping her elbow with a familiarity Raoul found disturbing, if not repellant.
“Raoul? I’d like you to meet Laura Aldridge. Laura? This is my younger brother, Raoul, the brains of the family. She’s the woman who saved my life yesterday.”
“So I heard,” he murmured, striving to keep his voice steady when what he really wanted to do was take his brother aside and demand an honest explanation. He reached for Mrs. Aldridge’s hand, noticing she didn’t wear a wedding ring. “Enchanté, Madame,” he said on purpose.
Only a woman who was confident in herself would give him a substantial shake in return, yet her hand with its tapered fingers and manicured nails was soft and well shaped … like the rest of her. When Raoul realized where his thoughts had wandered, he cursed inwardly.
“How do you do, Mr. Laroche,” she responded in a polite but dismissive voice, as if she knew he’d been assessing her and didn’t like it.
That, plus the surprising intelligence coming from her eyes and expression put his teeth on edge. “It’s fortunate for the Laroche family that you save lives in your spare time.”
She smiled easily, but it was meant for Guy’s benefit. “It’s one of the things I do for a living.”
Intrigued in spite of his growing frustration over his reaction to her he said, “You’re an EMT then?”
Guy grew serious. “Laura is a part-time lifeguard at Manhattan Beach in California.”
Like Baywatch, Raoul mused. He recalled the reruns from the famous American television show of the late eighties. He imagined most Frenchmen had derived pleasure from watching the female lifeguards plunge into the Southern Californian surf and come back out again. “I didn’t realize the Heimlich maneuver was used in those kinds of saves.”
Her body language didn’t change, but her dark-fringed eyes turned a deeper green. “It isn’t.”
“Which makes me even more blessed,” Guy murmured, his gaze focused on her in a kind of adoration Raoul hoped Chantelle couldn’t see from where she was sitting. It seemed a great deal had gone on in his brother’s world while Raoul had been away on business the last few days.
“It truly was miraculous,” Maurice chimed in.
Guy nodded. “I want you to be the first to know that Laura has made arrangements to take some time off work, so she’s going to be our house guest for a couple of weeks while Françoise is on vacation. I’m hoping her presence will be good for Chantelle.”
Raoul needed a moment to recover from the stunning news. Something didn’t add up here. Last evening was the first time Guy had met this woman. Raoul didn’t buy it. What self-respecting stranger would accept an invitation like the one Guy had offered within a day of meeting each other?
Perhaps Mrs. Aldridge and Guy’s relationship had begun before Chantelle’s accident, and maybe Chantelle understood much more than anyone guessed. This would certainly explain the drastic change in her behavior. If so, his brother was playing a very dangerous game that was so unlike him, Raoul felt as if he’d just been kicked through a stone rampart.
His thoughts reeled. More than ever he was suspicious of the whole situation his brother had orchestrated with Mrs. Aldridge’s blatant eagerness. While her lips curved in a faint smile at Guy’s announcement, a tight band constricted Raoul’s chest, but he couldn’t afford to let his brother see he was affected by the unsettling events.
Was it possible his brother had been hiding an affair that had been going on for some time? Had she arranged to sit near him yesterday while he faked the choking incident, thus giving him an excuse to bring her into the home he’d made with Chantelle? It was as if they’d had a longtime association and only now had decided to make it public.
For years Raoul had considered that Chantelle and his brother had the perfect marriage, which included a wonderful son. He’d never known two happier people. His own travesty of a union brought on by his wife’s lies only highlighted the difference between them, or so he’d thought. Mon Dieu—had Raoul been wrong and his brother had only been putting on an act for everyone?
“How nice you have the kind of job that allows you that kind of freedom.”
The classic line of her jaw became more delineated, as if his comment had reached its intended target and had disturbed her. “I’m very lucky to have such an understanding boss.”
Not luck. There wasn’t a man alive she couldn’t enamor to the point he’d give her whatever she wanted—even Guy, the man Raoul had always looked up to for many reasons, especially for his high principles.
Raoul needed that stiff drink now. Focusing his gaze on his brother he said, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll say hello to Chantelle.” Maybe the mention of his wife’s name might shame Guy back into paying attention to the woman he’d married, but his brother had Mrs. Aldridge on his mind and Raoul’s comment passed him by.
After a brief look at the woman who’d managed to get beneath his skin the way no woman had ever done before, Raoul headed for the bar in the study off the living room. Hopefully a scotch would dull his senses, which had come alive the second he’d laid eyes on her. With fortification he might just be able to face his sister-in-law and not give himself away before he knew all the facts. Raoul intended to have Mrs. Aldridge investigated, because blind or sighted, a man could be excused for succumbing to her, but what did Guy really know about her. With her particular talents, she’d already gotten him to move her into his house.
“Raoul?”
He tossed back his drink before turning to Maurice who’d followed him. “Oui?”
“Can we talk for a minute?”
“Bien sur. Let’s go out by the pool.” He opened the doors that led to the patio area where they could be strictly alone. “What’s on your mind?”
“Your brother.”
He was working up to something. It was possible that like Raoul, Maurice had come to the realization Guy had done something stupid and was going through a midlife crisis. Guy and Maurice had been friends for years. Maybe he could shed some light on his sudden, aberrant behavior.
Raoul eyed him for a moment. “I’m worried about him, too.”
“He’s so desperate at this point, I’m afraid he’s grasping at straws.”
Grasping at straws?
That wasn’t exactly what he’d expected to hear from Maurice. Raoul rubbed the back of his neck in an effort to collect his thoughts.
Was Raoul the only one who could see what was going on here? If so it was because a woman had made a fool of him years ago and he’d learned his lesson.
There was no doubt the situation was desperate. A woman who looked like Mrs. Aldridge wasn’t safe around any woman’s husband. Another vision of her swam before his eyes.
“Yvette thinks there’s too much of an age difference for this to work,” Maurice explained. “I tend to agree with her.”
Ah. Now he understood. Maurice had seen the writing on the wall. The clever man had used his wife and Chantelle’s friend, Yvette, for the excuse to warn Raoul about this woman Guy had installed in the house. A younger woman who’d never be able to relate to Chantelle? But of course that wasn’t what he’d really meant. Maurice was too discreet for that.
Suddenly Raoul felt a distaste for this conversation that bordered on gossip. “In the end it’s Guy’s call isn’t it,” he muttered, wanting to be loyal to the brother he loved. “Now I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me. After my trip, I need sleep.”
He took off for his own villa one swift stride at a time.
CHAPTER TWO
ONCE Guy’s brother had left the villa, Laura could breathe more easily and circulated among the guests. The second she’d sensed his piercing black gaze focused on her, she’d felt tension. No … it was more than that. He clearly didn’t like her and she didn’t know why.
It shouldn’t have mattered one way or the other, yet across the crowded room she’d been perplexed by the hostility she’d felt coming from the brooding, olive-skinned male who stood an easy three inches taller than Guy. Certain body-type characteristics linked them as family, but not so their coloring. Instead of brown hair like Guy’s, Raoul’s longish, almost unruly black hair with dark whorls against his neck, framed brows of the exact color.
He wore the same expensive kind of clothes as his brother, but there the resemblance ended. It was her impression that beneath the silk material covering his chest breathed a physique containing a power barely leashed.
She wouldn’t call him handsome. He was much more than that, but on an entirely different level. Gallic to his aquiline facial features, he exuded an overwhelming male sensuality her body responded to in spite of her efforts to remain unaffected.
Thankful she was no longer the object of his intense male scrutiny, she finished talking to one of the guests and walked over to Chantelle, who was surrounded by several of her female friends including Yvette from the Palio. They chatted, trying to draw her in, but Chantelle remained completely uninvolved, almost as if the party was not happening.
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.”
