The Brooding Frenchman's Proposal. Rebecca Winters
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do you have time to see your husband?”
At the mention of Ted, Laura shuddered. “My two-year marriage failed almost from the start, Chantelle. He’s an attorney from a political family, but he assured me he wasn’t interested in politics. I told him I didn’t want to be married to a politician and put him off for a long time until I was convinced he meant it.
“A few months into our marriage I learned he’d always planned to run for Congress. Everything had been a lie. He didn’t love me, all he wanted was to parade me in front of people, something I abhor.
“Six months ago, after I learned he’d been with other women, I found the strength to leave him and file for divorce. He’s refusing to give me one, but in time I’ll get it and he won’t have a choice.”
“Bravo!” Chantelle exclaimed. “Once a liar, always a liar.” She said it with such vehemence, Laura had the idea Chantelle was speaking from personal experience. But surely it wasn’t anything to do with Guy….
“In Ted’s case it’s true.” Her gaze flicked to her hostess. “He’s nothing like your husband, who absolutely adores you.”
The second the words left her lips, the atmosphere changed. Chantelle handed her back the sketchpad.
Laura couldn’t bear the thought that Guy might have lied about something that could have hurt his wife so profoundly. In fact she refused to believe it. “Has he left for his office, or will he be joining you?”
“He’s in his study on a conference call.”
“Lucky you to have him at home.” Whether it irked Chantelle or not, Laura had said it. “What are your plans today?”
“I’m having my massage in a half hour, then my hair done. Later I plan to do some reading out here.”
“Mind if I sketch while you read? The rose garden, in fact your whole villa with that maze around the back, has given me an idea for a children’s game, but only with your permission of course.”
“What’s it about?” Chantelle sounded pleased by the idea.
“It’s not fully formed in my mind yet. Maybe later you can help me brainstorm.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Mind what?”
The interjection of a silky male voice sent a small shiver through Laura. She didn’t have to turn her head to know who’d come out on the patio.
“Bonjour, Raoul. What’s going on around here? Doesn’t anyone have to go to work anymore? After being in Switzerland, I would have thought you’d be in your office at the crack of dawn. Instead here you are and Guy’s still on the phone in the den.”
Laura watched him move around the table to kiss his sister-in-law’s cheek. Dressed in a black silk shirt and gray trousers that molded his powerful legs, he looked incredible. “I’m on my way to Antibes on business and thought maybe you and Laura might like to go with me. You could do a little shopping. We’ll pack your wheelchair.”
“Not today. I have other plans, but I’m sure Laura would enjoy getting out.”
Laura’s heartbeat sped up at the mere idea of being alone with him. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Chantelle, but I’m perfectly happy here.” Guy was counting on her.
“Nonsense. You won’t be gone all day, will you, Raoul?”
“That depends.”
Laura had a feeling he’d said that just to get under her skin. Nothing had changed since last night. She could still feel his antipathy.
“Go with him, Laura. The drive might give you more ideas. Paul and his friends will be around. I’ll be busy keeping an eye on them.”
For some reason Chantelle wanted to be left alone and she didn’t care if she pushed Laura on to her complicated brother-in-law. Maybe Laura had offended her by saying what she had about Guy. It probably felt like she was pressuring her.
If any progress was going to be made with his wife, she needed to refrain from talking about her husband in front of her. No matter how anxious Guy was to bring his wife around to her normal self, Laura’s grandmother would remind her of the old adage about eating an elephant one bite at a time.
“By your silence, one would assume you’re afraid to go with me,” Raoul mocked before devouring a croissant. “I promise not to drive off into the sunset with you, Mrs. Aldridge. Whatever would Mr. Aldridge say.”
“Assez, Raoul! If you keep this up, she’ll get the wrong impression.”
“What impression?” His hooded gaze swerved to Laura. “Is that true?” After asking the question, he proceeded to eat a small bunch of purple grapes.
For some perverse reason he enjoyed needling her. Unfortunately, Chantelle wasn’t being any help. Laura had the distinct feeling she enjoyed the repartee. The two of them shared a unique relationship she couldn’t begin to understand.
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