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.’”
She walked to the door of the suite. “You look exhausted. You’d better go home and get some sleep, otherwise someone else I know is going to end up in the hospital before the day is out. I’ll phone you if there’s any kind of development.”
His eyes probed hers. “I could use a few hours, but I’ll be back. Care to join me?” he asked, smiling wickedly.
Her heart thudded in her chest. “If that’s a proposition, it’s not a flattering one. You’re half-dead.”
“You want me fully alive, is that what you’re saying?”
Her breath caught. He might be exhausted, but the wicked smile was in evidence. “I’m saying the timing is wrong, even for chemistry. You know the expression ‘There’s a time to weep and a time to laugh … a time to mourn and a time to dance’?”
“And now isn’t the right time for us?” he murmured. Laura nodded. “It’s your loss, Laura. I think there is more than just chemistry between us.”
Laura couldn’t take any more. Since he made no move to leave she said, “You’re welcome to stay in here and sleep. I’m going to find out whether Guy was successful in getting Chantelle to go to the hospital with him. When Paul comes home, I’ll send the maid to let you know.”
Raoul felt like he’d just awakened to a nightmare.
The sound of a car in the drive had Laura putting down her sketchpad to dash to the front door. When she opened it, the sight of three people getting out of the limo brought tears to her throat. Chantelle had gone to the hospital with Guy to bring their son home. Another big step for her.
Dear Guy. He had double duty. After he and Pierre lifted Chantelle and her wheelchair to the top step of the porch, he rushed back to help Paul with his crutches. One pant leg had been rolled up high enough to expose a patch of gauze and a bandage covering his wound.
Knowing Chantelle wouldn’t want Laura to say anything about this minor miracle of her going to the hospital, she focused on her son.
“Hey, Paul, maybe we should have taken you with us to see the Tour after all,” she called out.
He looked up at her with a wan smile. “How was it?”
“Not nearly as hair raising as what happened to you. Is your bike ruined?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry. A bike can be replaced, but there’s only one Paul Laroche.”
“Will you be my nurse?”
Laura smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I insist on it.” Her gaze switched to Guy, who winked at her. He looked happier than she’d seen him since her arrival in Cap Ferrat. Today had been a milestone, not only for Chantelle.
She wheeled through the foyer. “We’re very thankful to bring you home in one piece, mon fils. Let’s get you to your room.”
“Do I have to go to bed, Maman? I want to lie on the lounger out on the patio.”
“You’re sure it’s not too hot for you?”
“I’ll arrange the umbrella for him,” Laura offered.
Everyone moved through the house to the patio off the dining room. “Has the medicine made you sick?” his mother asked.
“No. I’m hungry.”
Chantelle looked at him with loving eyes. “You’ve a cast-iron stomach just like your uncle.”
“Did I hear my name taken in vain?”
Raoul’s head and shoulders had emerged from the pool. He must have slipped out the front door after Laura had left the guest suite. Had he gotten any sleep?
With enviable male grace he levered himself out of the water and onto the tile. In a few strides he reached his nephew and laid the crutches at the side of the lounger so Paul could settle back. Then he tousled his hair. “It looks like you’re going to live. Just don’t do that again.”
Laura’s eyes closed. She was still throbbing from the touch of Raoul’s hands moving over her back and arms earlier with an urgency that had left her breathless.
“It was the truck driver’s fault.”
Guy came out with a glass of lemonade for him.
“Merci, Papa.”
“I’m going into the house to talk to cook,” Chantelle said. “Giles called and wants to know how you are.”
“I’ll call him later. He was ahead of me and luckily didn’t get hit.”
Laura hunkered down at his side. “He was lucky, but you carry the mark of bravery.”
A smile broke out on his attractive face. One day he was going to be a heart breaker like the rest of the men in the Laroche family. “Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
“Who won the race?”
“The Dutchman came in first,” Raoul informed him. “Places two and three went to the Spanish,” he added while he and Guy pulled up chairs next to him. “Not a Frenchman among them.”
Paul frowned. “Zut alors!”
“Not an American, either,” Laura interjected, having pulled up another chair. Paul hooted.
For the next half hour she listened as Raoul gave them details of what they’d seen earlier in the day. Part was in English for her benefit, but a lot of it was in French. She knew he was knowledgeable, but she had no idea he could rattle off names and statistics like a pro announcer, let alone recall everything while she’d been standing there in monstrous pain.
If ever she needed proof that a man could compartmentalize his interests from his emotions, this was it.
Late afternoon turned into evening. Chantelle put a puzzle together with Laura while Paul introduced her to some of his favorite teen rock music. Raoul and Guy discussed a little business. After dinner he convinced his son to go to bed. Tomorrow he could have his friends over.
When Raoul said good-night to everyone and took himself off to his villa, Laura felt a loss she could hardly bear. As upset as she’d been over his admission that he’d had her investigated, his concern that Ted had abused her took away a lot of her pain.
She’d give anything to follow him so they could talk more. So far she hadn’t been inside his villa, nor was she likely to be invited. If he’d lived there throughout his marriage she would have no idea, but she felt a deep curiosity over what he did away from his family.
A man like Raoul wouldn’t have been celibate since his divorce. If he had a lover, he’d been sandwiching her in since he’d taken it upon himself to keep
