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“I may be late going into the office in the morning,” Guy muttered, showing strains of being beaten. There was no ‘may’ about it. With Laura living on the premises, it was doubtful the company would see him for the next two weeks.
“I’m afraid I won’t be there either. Jean-Luc wants me to look over that complex in Antibes. Why don’t you go with me? We’ll decide if we want to buy it. With Laura keeping Chantelle company, you can get away for a little while without worrying.”
Maybe on the drive he could get his brother to break down and tell him what was going on. They’d never kept secrets from each other in their lives.
Guy shook his head. “Not this time. You go ahead.” In the next breath he left the patio, his mind and thoughts elsewhere.
Raoul stayed where he was. Part of him was torn up inside to see the change in Guy. The other part felt disgust over his possible romantic involvement with the woman Raoul couldn’t get out of his mind. Laura Aldridge was almost fifteen years younger than Guy. On the loose in Europe, he wondered how many other men she’d ensnared before targeting his brother.
As Raoul had learned, a woman like that didn’t have to earn a living. He doubted Laura even had a real job. That business about getting her boss’s permission was a con if he’d ever heard one. She lived off her victims. When she’d had enough and was bored, she moved on to the next poor devil whose bank account held a twelve-figure balance. Why couldn’t Guy see this?
Tomorrow he’d phone his attorney. It wouldn’t hurt to run a check on the American woman. She might not be who she said she was. She might even have a police record on both sides of the Atlantic.
After their parents had died years ago, Guy had always looked after Raoul. Now it was Raoul’s turn to protect his brother from a possible predator who had the kind of face and body to tempt every strata of saint down to sinner.
The next morning one of the maids led Laura to a patio off the dining room, where Chantelle was seated. It overlooked a fabulous, multicolored rose garden. She’d smelled their fragrance last evening and couldn’t get enough of it.
“Bonjour, Laura.”
“Bonjour, Chantelle.” she said back, trying to imitate the sounds. More than ever she marveled at this family. They all spoke English so well. She couldn’t imagine learning French with the same fluency.
Her hostess had already wheeled herself to the rectangular glass table supported by ornate wrought iron legs. Laura put her sketchpad down against one of them and took a seat across from her while another maid served them breakfast. The patio having a western exposure, they were shaded from the hot sun.
“How did you sleep?”
“Once the pills worked, I passed out. Thank you for giving them to me. I need to go to a pharmacy and get some of my own.”
“Anything you need, all you have to do is ask.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
Like Laura, Chantelle had dressed in a white knit top and matching shorts. She looked cool and perfectly beautiful. Laura’s heart felt a wrench to realize that beneath her facade lived an emotionally frozen woman.
“These croissants melt in your mouth.”
Chantelle flashed her an unexpected smile. “I’ll tell the chef.”
Laura chuckled. “To be honest, I feel like I’m in fantasyland.”
“I’ve been there.”
“I know. I tended little Paul while you and Raoul walked around Disneyland. You have no idea how much I envied you your wonderful husband and son. Yours was the kind of marriage I wanted one day.”
When Chantelle didn’t respond to her remarks Laura said, “Actually I’m talking about a completely different place. Your home is a fantasyland—out of this world. Those rose beds are so perfect. You must have the best gardeners on the Côte d’Azur.”
“Before my accident, I did all the weeding myself. Now I have to tell them how to do their job. They miss too many.”
“Let me do it while I’m here—” she blurted.
Chantelle cocked her dark head. “You like gardening?”
“I remember talking to you about the grandmother who raised me, but I probably didn’t mention that we lived in a little forties bungalow in Manhattan Beach. She loved flowers and had me out working alongside her when I was just a girl. It was the one job I loved most, probably because it was outside.”
“Is she still alive?”
“No. She died eight years ago. I kept up the yard until I got married. My husband convinced me to sell it. I haven’t done any gardening since.”
Laura wouldn’t have listened to Ted except that a developer was planning to buy the whole strip of houses around there and build a mall. The price being offered was better than what an individual buyer might pay for it. That had been Ted’s reasoning at the time.
After she had reluctantly sold it, the project had fallen through, but she had a feeling Ted had known it would. He just didn’t want her holding on to her memories. Everything to do with him had been a mistake.
Not liking the direction of her thoughts, she munched on the chilled honeydew melon, her favorite.
Chantelle eyed her over the rim of her coffee. “If you’re serious about the weeding, be my guest.”
“I already am.” They both smiled at the same time. “It would make me very happy to get out there so I can feel useful. My hands are itching to dig into the soil.”
“I know the feeling.”
How sad that Chantelle could admit to such a thing, yet she refused to act on it.
“Tomorrow I’ll ask the gardener to bring you some gloves and the things you’ll need.”
“Thank you.”
“I believe there’s an artist in anyone who loves gardening. After you’ve finished eating, may I see what you’ve been sketching?”
Guy had hoped Laura would draw his wife out, but so far Chantelle was the one forcing Laura to open up.
“I’ll show you now.” She reached for the pad and handed it to her.
After Chantelle flipped the cover over, a soft gasp escaped her lips. She studied the top page, then began thumbing through the others. Finally she raised her head. Her eyes were shining. For just a moment, she was like the old Chantelle.
“You’ve captured the whole Palio—the people … the costumes … the horses … the city—You’re a genius!”
“No—”
“Indeed you are. What medium do you work with when you make these life-size? Oil? Watercolor?”
“Neither. I studied graphic design in college. After I graduated, I went to work for a video game company in California. My job is to provide interesting backgrounds for games which other people in the company develop.”
“Video games? Like the ones my son plays, much to my disgust?”
“I’m afraid so,” Laura admitted. “The technology is so advanced, the industry has taken off. With my pencil I create backgrounds for all ages. This one on the Palio will be used as a horse race obviously. Each horse and rider runs through a separate part of the town with many obstacles to overcome. My job is to find unusual places that suggest games to me.”
“Where else have you been?” Chantelle actually sounded interested and Laura could glimpse shades of her former self.
“Two months ago I spent a week in Hamlin, Germany, to create a background for a children’s game. It’s an adorable town with a lot of carvings. My grandmother read me all the fairy tales. One of my favorites was ‘The Pied Piper.’ I came up with the idea of him leading all the children out of the town and the player has to prevent them from following him by using various methods that take a certain amount of skill.
“After leaving there I went to Holland for a week to sketch the windmills and old gabled houses for another game about stopping the holes in the dikes.”
Chantelle shook her head. “But this is remarkable! You are remarkable!”
“No, but I must admit it’s a lot of fun to get paid a commission for doing something I love. In between times, I still work part-time as a lifeguard at the beach. As you can imagine, I’ve done the sketches for an underwater video game for children. It involves a merman.” An image of Raoul in the pool suddenly flashed into her mind, causing her to take an extra breath.
“When 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.
Making a decision not to be a part of it, she stood up from the chair and reached for her sketchpad. “How soon did you want to leave?”
From the gleam in his dark eyes, her question had pleased him. “Right now.”
“Then give me a minute to change.”
His gaze traveled over her in lazy appraisal. “You look fine as you are.”
“Thank you, but if I’m going to do any shopping, I’d feel more comfortable in a skirt. Where shall I meet you?”
“I’ll bring my car around the front of the villa.”
“Give me five minutes.” She looked at Chantelle. “While I’m out, is there something I can pick up for you? A book you’ve been wanting to read?”
“Nothing for me.”
“A special treat then?”
Chantelle flashed her a smile. “That’s very sweet. Thank you for offering, but non merci.”
Laura planned to bring her back something anyway. Her gaze flicked to Raoul who was eyeing her strangely. “I won’t be long.”
His lips twisted. “Did you hear that, Chantelle?”
She chided him without rancor, “Not all women are as impossible as you choose to believe. A woman as lovely as Laura doesn’t need to primp.”
Not wanting to hear any more, Laura left the patio to change into her wraparound skirt in a taupe color with white trim. Before coming to breakfast she’d caught her hair back in a ponytail with a white scarf. Because she thought she’d be in the house with Chantelle all day, she hadn’t bothered with makeup.
She wouldn’t bother now. Raoul Laroche would have to take her as she was. Hopefully her demeanor didn’t reveal her highly emotional state. It wouldn’t do for Raoul to know how much his nearness affected her.
After filling her tote bag with supplies, she made her way to the front of the house before the five minutes were up. No sooner had she closed the door behind her than she saw a white cabriolet Porsche wheel around the drive.
A cry of alarm escaped her lips. How had Ted found her? How did he get past the security guard? For a moment she felt sick to her stomach.
CHAPTER THREE
RAOUL was surprised to discover Laura waiting for him. To find a woman ready on time had to be a first. He coasted to a stop.
However, the sight of her champagne hair and unmistakable figure made him slow to realize she had a pallor that hadn’t been there when she’d left the table. He had a suspicion she’d seen Guy on her way out and they’d had words. To learn Laura was leaving the villa with Chantelle’s blessing in order to go with Raoul must have upset his brother.
Pleased to have foiled another attempt for Guy to be alone with her, Raoul reached across the seat to open the passenger door for her. She looked good. Most women past their teens couldn’t get away without wearing makeup, but she carried it off perfectly.
Beneath the attractive skirt, her gorgeous long legs were bare. Much to his chagrin he could find nothing artificial about her. The more she underplayed her looks, the more she stood out like a fresh peach warming in the sun, all pink and golden.
Her arm brushed against his as she fastened her seat belt. His body quickened at the contact. The recurring sensation wasn’t supposed to happen. Once she closed the door, he put the car in gear and took off without saying anything. He followed the winding drive flanked by cypress trees until they passed the guardhouse and came out on the coast road.
After a few minutes he said, “If Chantelle had come with us, I would have brought the sedan. Do you mind the top down? I can always put it up.”
“That’s up to you. Frankly I like being able to see all around,” she responded without looking at him.
The women he knew didn’t want to be blown about, but as he was finding out with Laura, she wasn’t your typical female. She didn’t talk incessantly, a quality that should have pleased him since they were going to be together for as long as he felt like keeping her away from Guy. Yet the fact that she appeared so relaxed with him actually irritated him.
“This area isn’t that much different from your coast in Southern California.”
“It’s completely different,” she countered. “The ocean and the sea can’t be compared.” Having been to California on several occasions, he privately agreed with her. “All those ancient little villages I saw from the helicopter tucked away high in the Maritime Alps create a charm like no place else on earth.”
He hadn’t realized Guy had flown her here in the helicopter. That was an unprecedented move on his part. His brother was in deep.
She recrossed her legs, probably on purpose. Among other things it drew his attention to the bone-colored leather sandals encasing her feet. No toenail polish. Everything au naturel. So far he couldn’t see anything he didn’t like and he’d been trying!
“You’ve traveled in Europe before?”
“Some, but not along the Riviera. It’s breathtaking.”
Raoul hated to admit she was too. The truth of it shook him almost as much as the fact that she didn’t give anything away she didn’t want him to know.
He came to the turn for Cros de Cagnes and veered left to follow the coast road. “What is it you do for a living … besides rescue drowning victims?”
She put on a pair of sunglasses. “I draw landscapes to create backgrounds for video games.”
Video games? Raoul had to admit that was one answer he would never have expected. “What genre?” She was an artiste all right, but the kind she was alluding to came as a revelation, if it were true.
“Mostly for children and young adults.”
“No war games?”
“If you mean the kind guys from eighteen to thirty play all day and all night long, then no.”
Whether she was conning him or not, he couldn’t help but chuckle because what she’d said was so true. After she gave him some examples, he was prompted to ask the name of the company she worked for.
“Other World Video Games. You’ve probably never heard of it.”
“I can’t say I have.” So far she’d picked something so safe, he couldn’t accuse her of lying until he’d researched it. “How long have you been doing that kind of work?”
“Since college.”
“Did you get a degree?”
She nodded. “Graphic design.”
While his mind did the math he remembered something. “At breakfast I saw you with a sketchpad.”
“Yes. It’s filled with drawings of Siena and the Palio. I was working on a scene when your brother started to choke. Chantelle wanted to see it.”
To his dismay, every time he asked her a question, she answered it without hesitation. If she had things to hide, he wouldn’t know it from her seemingly forthright manner. So far she hadn’t asked anything of him. The idea that she was merely tolerating him didn’t sit well.
Raoul kept telling himself he was doing this for Guy’s sake, but a part of him knew that wasn’t totally true. Laura Aldridge had captured his attention in too many ways to lie to himself.
Earlier this morning he’d phoned his attorney and asked him to run a background check on her. Louis promised to get back to him when he had any solid information. In the meantime it was up to Raoul to learn what he could from the woman herself. If he asked more personal questions, maybe he could get her to squirm. That’s what he was looking for, to catch her in something that would give away her agenda.
“How do you balance your work and marriage?”
After a quiet interval, she said, “I don’t.”
That’s right. She only had time to concentrate on ruining someone else’s. Her refusal to play his game had just raised the stakes. He took the next right that brought them into Juan-les-Pins, an extension of Antibes.
“I’m going to check out a complex of buildings in the yachting district that our company might purchase for our export line. It won’t take me long. Afterward I’ll drive us through Vence to one of those little villages you referred to. We’ll have a late lunch and do whatever we feel like.”
She nodded as if amenable, but he felt her tension because she’d only been putting up with him until they returned to the villa. He could tell by the rigidity of her body that her patience was wearing thin. That was the crack in the veneer he’d been waiting for.
“Would you like me to stop and get you a drink first?”
“No, thank you. I have a bottle of water in my bag if I get thirsty.”
Still no eye contact. To travel around Europe alone picking up vulnerable men, she’d learned to be independent. It was part of her mystique, another intriguing trait he hated to acknowledge.
A few minutes later he pulled up to the entry of an empty warehouse and parked the car alongside a bank of palm trees. They’d shield her from the sun while he was inside. Jean-Luc, their company’s real estate agent, was already in front of the doors waiting for him.
As soon as he saw them, the older man headed for the Porsche. One look at Laura and he started salivating. It put Raoul in mind of Guy, who would have had the same reaction when he’d seen Laura for the first time. The identical thing had happened to Raoul, causing his own desire and anger to flare.
On impulse and something else he couldn’t put a name to yet, he leaned across the seat and kissed her full on her unsuspecting mouth. It happened so naturally she didn’t have time to resist.
That was the idea. Jean-Luc was bearing down on them. A picture was worth a thousand words, so they said. He was the biggest gossip on the Côte d’Azur. He had to be to stay in business. By tomorrow word would have reached Guy’s ears that his brother was involved with a blond bombshell, and Guy’s hands would be tied.
If he confronted Raoul, Guy would be admitting his own guilt. Though he’d be furious with him at first, it would expose Laura for the opportunist she was. One day Guy would thank him.
But Raoul’s thoughts faded as the taste of her was all he’d imagined and more, prompting him to take his time until she tore her lips from his. “How dare you,” she cried in a low tone.
Her outrage sounded genuine enough, but it came an instant too late because she’d started to respond to him before catching herself. It wasn’t something you could hide. If she was supposed to be involved with Guy, what did her reaction to Raoul mean?
To his dismay another part of him didn’t want to know the answer because for an insane moment he was enjoying himself too much. Raoul couldn’t abide the thought of her responding to him and his brother, too. Yet that was why he’d done this experiment, to find out what kind of woman she really was.
He smiled. “Come on, Laura. After what almost happened in the swimming pool last night, we both know you didn’t mind it all that much.” Satisfied to see the rush of hot color sweep into her cheeks, he left her to her own devices while he levered himself from the car to intercept Jean-Luc.
Denied an introduction, his curious friend would be even more eager to know the identity of the new mystery woman in Raoul’s life.
“Oh-la-la—” Jean-Luc clapped him on the shoulder as they walked toward the doors. “When your ex finds out about that one, she’ll want to scratch her eyes out.”