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

Weddings

The

Proposals

The Brooding Frenchman’s Proposal

Rebecca Winters

Memo: The Billionaire’s Proposal

Melissa McClone

The Playboy Firefighter’s Proposal

Emily Forbes

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dear Reader,

Have you ever been in the uncomfortable position of knowing someone didn’t like you, but you didn’t know why? Was it the way you looked, or the way you expressed yourself? Did you remind them of someone they’d had a problem with, or maybe someone who had rejected them? And did the situation get worse the more you tried to make a favourable impression or tried to get along and be their friend? How did things turn out for you?

I’ve had such an experience in my life and to this day I don’t have an answer. In the end I was forced to let it go as one of those unsolved mysteries.

In this latest novel, Laura is a guest in a French household where one brooding member has made up his mind against her with devastating results—because her heart is involved. You’ll have to read on to see how the story unfolds—how little by little certain truths are revealed and love ends up healing all wounds.

ENJOY!

Rebecca Winters

About the Author

REBECCA WINTERS, whose family of four children has now swelled to include three beautiful grandchildren, lives in Salt Lake City, Utah, in the land of the Rocky Mountains. With canyons and high alpine meadows full of wild flowers, she never runs out of places to explore. They, plus her favourite vacation spots in Europe, often end up as backgrounds for her Mills & Boon® romance novels—because writing is her passion, along with her family and her church. Rebecca loves to hear from her readers. If you wish to e-mail her, please visit her website at: www.cleanromances.com.

To all you wonderful readers who’ve been so

faithful and have sent words of kindness and

appreciation through your letters and e-mails.

Every author should be so lucky.

CHAPTER ONE

TOWARD evening, Laura Aldridge, dressed in a cocktail dress of apricot-colored chiffon, stepped out onto the balcony of her bedroom at the Laroche villa. It overlooked the shimmering blue Mediterranean, and down a few steps lay a crescent-shaped swimming pool to complete the magical setting.

Located on Cap Ferrat, a small peninsula on the French Riviera, the villa, heavily guarded with security, formed part of the treasured real estate of the European aristocracy.

The balmy air of early July felt like the tropics. She lifted her fine-boned face to the gentle breeze filled with the scent of roses. It teased the ends of her palegold hair and caused the chiffon to flutter against her generously proportioned figure.

For the first time in six months Laura could breathe more easily knowing Ted didn’t have a clue where she was. The men he’d hired to keep tabs on her, his way of reminding her she was his possession and he was going to get her back, wouldn’t have been able to trace the helicopter that had whisked her here earlier today. To elude him for a few hours, let alone a day and a night, was so liberating she wished she could disappear from his radar forever.

Since her legal separation from Ted Stillman, Laura had been going by her maiden name of Aldridge while she fought for the divorce he’d vowed never to give her. He wasn’t about to let her spoil his run for congress next year. By threatening to use the millions of dollars from his high-profile, politically ambitious family to keep their case tangled up in the courts, he hoped to bring her to her senses.

It would be to his detriment though, because she refused to go back to him and had no desire to ever get married again. She’d removed her rings. All she cared about now was never having to see him again. Being thousands of miles away from the Stillman political machine helped. Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat was the playground of princes, and not even Ted’s family with all their influence and connections had an entrée to it—thank heaven.

By a stroke of fate she was the guest of Guy Laroche and his wife, Chantelle, whom she’d met eleven years earlier in California. The summer before starting college Laura had been a part-time lifeguard and babysitter at the five-star Manhattan Beach Resort Hotel catering to VIPs from all over the world. Her boss had assigned her to baby sit the Laroche child, impressing upon her that the Laroche name moved mountains in the financial world of the Côte d’Azur.

They’d brought their one-year-old son Paul with them, a little boy Laura absolutely adored. Over that ten-day period he went from clinging to chairs and tables, to taking a few steps on his own toward her. His endearing ways caught at her heart. And she had often dreamed that one day she would have a darling, dark-haired boy of her own just like him.

When the three of them had flown on to Hawaii, Laura had felt a wrench to see them go. In that short time Chantelle had almost become like an older sister to her, and Guy had been the most charming man Laura had ever met. The French couple had been so in love and so crazy about Paul, it had been a joy to get to know them.

They’d all become such good friends, and the Laroches had made Laura promise that if she were ever to travel to France, she could stay with them for as long as she wanted. In the beginning they had sent her postcards from all their travels and pictures of Paul from Cap Ferrat where they lived, but in time they lost touch.

It wasn’t until two days ago, while Laura was on a work assignment in Siena, Italy, for the Palio horse race, that she heard some tourists speaking French and remembered the French couple and their baby. Though she’d be flying home from Rome shortly, she decided to phone the Laroche company and see if she could reach them just to say hello.

When Guy had realized who was calling, he sounded overjoyed to hear from her. By an amazing coincidence he and Paul were joining old friends in Siena to watch the Palio, something they did every year, and Guy had insisted on meeting up with Laura there. She would sit at his table for dinner while they got reacquainted.

Laura wondered why he didn’t mention Chantelle coming with him, but since he didn’t offer an explanation, she didn’t ask.

Late yesterday afternoon she’d had her reunion with Guy and little Paul, who was now twelve and as handsome as she’d imagined. Though it was a heartwarming moment, she sensed right away that something was wrong.

Guy had changed from the fun-loving man she remembered into someone who looked older than his forty-four years. His dark-brown hair had traces of silver and his patrician features were more pronounced. He’d become so serious. Paul, too, seemed too sober and polite for a boy his age.

After seating Laura at his right, Guy made all the introductions, starting with his good friend Maurice Charrière and his wife Yvette. They’d brought their son Remy who was good friends with Paul. Once Laura had met everyone they began eating, but at one point Guy started to choke on his food.

Since Laura was sitting next to him, she didn’t notice his distress at first. Neither did the party of intelligent, well-dressed people with him. When he tried to stand up, it became clear he was struggling. They all looked horrified and got to their feet, but no one knew exactly how to help him.

Being a part-time CPR instructor and lifeguard for over a decade, Laura immediately acted on instinct and jumped up from her chair to get his breathing passage cleared. Though she’d saved many lives from near drownings—including her husband Ted’s—this was her first save on land with the Heimlich maneuver.

As soon as Guy had recovered enough to be comfortable again, he was embarrassingly grateful. In his beautiful English he thanked her profusely and made a huge fuss over her for saving his life. Laura assured him that anyone who had knowledge of the Heimlich could have done it and she’d just happened to be in the right spot at the right time. Everyone disagreed and Maurice claimed her to be a heroine.

Later that evening, after the riders had galloped by in all their fabulous trappings, Guy accompanied her to her hotel while Paul stayed behind with Remy and his parents. Before she went up to her room Guy begged her to change her flight until the day after and come to the villa in Cap Ferrat the next day. Chantelle wanted to see her.

Over dinner Guy had informed Laura that Chantelle had been hurt in a car accident three months ago. Though no bones had been broken, she’d been severely bruised on her legs. Now she was physically recovered and could walk the way she did before. However, she clung to her wheelchair like it was a security blanket and refused to get out of it and resume her life again.

Laura cringed to hear the awful news. It explained the dramatic change in him.

According to Guy, the psychological impairment had made her paranoid, unwilling to be with people, but Chantelle had insisted that he bring Laura home with him. Since Laura had finished her work and was ready to fly back to Los Angeles, she didn’t have a reason why she couldn’t accept their invitation. In the end she said she could put off her flight to the States for a day and then fly out on the next flight from nearby Nice.

The following morning Guy had her flown to Cap Ferrat in his helicopter. It landed on his property where a limo drove her the short distance to the entrance of his Mediterranean-style villa. She walked into a world of art treasures, murals, mirrors, Persian rugs and sumptuously appointed rooms decorated in silks and damasks. The classic furnishings mixed with some contemporary pieces made it a showplace and a haven.

After one of the maids had shown her to a dreamy guest suite of pale pink and cream where she’d be staying the night, Guy came for her and took her to see Chantelle who, at the age of forty-three, still looked like she could grace the cover of Vogue magazine in her stunning black-and-white cocktail dress.

When Laura had first met her in California, she’d thought Guy’s beautiful brunette wife had that Audrey Hepburn look … small, graceful. But the thing that struck Laura now was the lack of vivaciousness that had been an integral part of her personality eleven years ago. Her sad brown eyes seemed to carry the grief of the world in them.

She seemed truly happy to see Laura again, and when Guy had told her about his choking experience, Chantelle had thanked her for saving her husband’s life. She had told Laura that she wanted her to stay at their home for as long as she could, but no demonstrative hugs accompanied her offer. She certainly wasn’t the gregarious person she used to be.

It was so unlike the old Chantelle that Laura wanted to cry her eyes out. Only now did she realize how difficult this change in his formerly, outgoing, loving wife must be for Guy. She could understand why he and Paul were so subdued. According to them, Chantelle had become paralyzed with fear since the accident.

Laura was acquainted with fear and knew that it came in many forms. In the beginning of her marriage, she’d learned things about Ted that had caused her to fall out of love with him. However, fear of reprisal had prevented her from confronting him, let alone standing up to the powerful Stillman dynasty. If she’d had more courage, she would have left Ted within months of the ceremony.

Obviously Chantelle was suffering from a different kind of fear. The experience of being trapped in her car for four hours before someone had found her had scarred her psyche in some complicated way. Laura carried her own psychological scars and couldn’t blame Chantelle for hers, but she understood Guy’s anguish.

Laura thought back to the friendship she’d maintained with one of the people she’d once saved from drowning. The teenager was in his twenties now, but he was still terrified of the water. She suspected Chantelle refused to get out of the wheelchair because she was terrified people would think she was ready to resume life. But as Laura had discovered, you couldn’t make a move until your mind gave you permission.

In sympathy with the Laroches’ tragic situation, she left the veranda and went back in the room to put on some lotion before joining the party. While she was applying it, she heard a rap on the door to her luxurious suite.

She guessed it was one of the maids, but when she opened it she discovered Guy standing there, looking distinguished in a sport shirt and slacks in a linen color. Though he appeared too drawn and worried for someone in his prime, the rest of his body seemed fit enough and tanned.

“Do you mind if we talk for a minute?”

“You mean here?’

“Yes. I’d rather no one else overheard us.”

“If that’s what you wish. Please, come in.”

The foyer led into a sitting room with a spacious bedroom and bathroom hidden beyond the French doors. He sat down on one of the upholstered Louis XV chairs. She took a seat on the Jacquard-print love seat facing him.

Leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees he said, “Before you meet everyone, I was hoping we could talk seriously for a moment. Would your husband be disappointed if you didn’t get back to California right away? I’m asking for a specific reason.”

Up to now Laura had avoided talking about her past, but Guy seemed so intent she didn’t hold back. “I’ve been legally separated from my husband for six months, Guy,” she admitted. “My divorce can’t come soon enough.”

Lines bracketed his mouth. “I’m sorry you’re in so much pain. I had no idea.”

His compassion prompted her to tell him the truth. “Any pain I suffered happened during my two-year marriage, which turned out to be a profound mistake. I assure you the separation has been the cure. My husband is fighting the divorce and keeping tabs on me, hoping to get me to come back to him, but it won’t happen. I plan to win my divorce in my next court appearance.”

She could hear his mind working. “Forgive me for speaking frankly then, but is there someone else waiting for your return?”

“No,” she answered quietly. Even if there were someone, her attorney had told her to stay clear of any man so Ted couldn’t use it for fuel against her.

“What’s wrong with the men in your country?”

“Not the men, Guy. Me. I made an error in judgment when I married my husband. Since the separation I’ve been too busy traveling with my job to think about anything or anyone else. Why do you want to know?”

A sigh escaped his lips. “You’ve met Françoise of course.”

Laura nodded. She was the middle-aged woman who helped out with Paul and provided companionship for Chantelle during the day while Guy was at work.

“She’s going on vacation for two weeks starting tomorrow. I’ve scheduled another woman to fill in, but I was hoping I could influence you to stay on while Françoise is gone, provided your work schedule could allow it.”

“Guy—”

“Let me finish,” he implored. “When Chantelle said you were welcome to stay and for as long as you wanted, I was overjoyed. Since the accident she hasn’t shown an interest in anyone. But she trusts you. After the way you took care of Paul in California, she loved you. Since you two have a history together, it’s obvious she doesn’t feel like you’ll ask more of her than she’s willing to give.”

The man was desperate.

“Much as I’d like to be of help, I’m not a doctor.”

He shook his head. “She already has the best there is. I’m talking about her response to you. If you were to be around during the day, not every minute of course, I’m hoping that one of these mornings soon she’ll start to confide in you like she once did. It’s my opinion you could find a way to help her open up. I’d give everything I had for such a miracle.”

Laura grew restless. “Today she responded to me, but you know as well as I do a short visit is a good one. I’m afraid that if I stayed, she’d grow to resent me being around and close up completely. I wouldn’t want you to take the risk of that happening.”

“There’d be no risk. You’re a very peaceful person, and just what she needs. You handled Paul so beautifully she accepted you without question eleven years ago. That hasn’t changed. It’s why I feel you could be of help. If you would extend your time here a little longer, who knows what could happen.”

“I don’t know, Guy.”

“Just promise me you’ll think about it,” he begged. “Naturally I would pay you a generous salary.”

Laura drew in a sharp breath. “I’m flattered to think you feel my presence could benefit her, but I would never take your money.” Laura managed just fine on the money she made earning her living, and she hated the idea of receiving money she hadn’t earned herself through hard work, even if she were entitled to it. She hadn’t touched the money the court had ordered Ted to pay her and was thinking of donating it to a charity.

Laura’s experience with Ted had made her wary of men with a lot of money and power. Too late she realized Ted had chosen her to be his trophy wife, not the love of his life. Like all the Stillman men, he had thought nothing of being with other women while hiding behind his marriage to Laura, but it appeared that Guy, who could buy the Stillmans’ assets many times over, wasn’t cut from the same kind of cloth.

“Does that mean you would consider staying here out of friendship then?” His eyes went suspiciously bright. “I might have died at dinner from lack of oxygen if you hadn’t acted as fast as you did. I feel closer to you now than ever. That’s why I’m going to tell you something very personal.

“Chantelle and I have both been given a second chance at life, a life she used to embrace, but since the accident things have changed. We have drifted apart and I feel a gaping hole opening between us. In the past we always attended the Palio with the Charrières. This year she told me to go without her. I only went with Paul because she got agitated when I told her I wouldn’t leave her.

“Something is terribly wrong and holding her back. The psychiatrist working with her is frustrated there has been no breakthrough yet. She hasn’t allowed me to make love to her since the accident. I love my wife, Laura. I’m willing to do anything to get her past that barrier she has erected, but I’m afraid something happened while she was waiting to be rescued that terrified her.”

“Like what?”

“Maybe some monster came along and molested her while she was trapped and she can’t bring herself to tell me.”

Laura shuddered at the thought. She had to agree it was possible, though she couldn’t imagine it. “You don’t think she would have told you?”

He jumped up from the chair. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.” Guy was in pain. The way his voice throbbed revealed his agony.

Chantelle Laroche had to be one of the luckiest women alive to be truly loved by her husband. Not just on the surface, but deep down in his heart and soul where it counted.

She supposed Carl, her boss in L.A., might be willing to let her extend her time in Europe for another two weeks and call it her vacation. She could even make it a working holiday, which she knew would please him. She doubted she could make a real difference with Chantelle, though if Guy was this determined to get his wife back, Laura was willing to try to get on her old footing with Chantelle.

“Tell you what, Guy. My boss should be in his office right now. I’ll phone him and if he says it’s all right, I’ll be happy to stay and see what I can do. Chantelle was so wonderful to me back then, and who wouldn’t adore it here with all this beauty? You live in a paradise only a few people in the world are privileged to see.”

The men Ted had hired to follow her every move would have to possess extra powers to know her location right now. Two weeks free of the Stillman net would be a bonus she hadn’t counted on this trip to Europe. In her heart of hearts she had to admit that in wanting to keep her whereabouts a secret from Ted, Guy’s proposal couldn’t have come at a better time.

He moved closer to grasp her hands. “You are an angelic woman, Laura. I don’t know what good I’ve done in this life for you to come into it again at the moment you did, but I will always be indebted to you. Whatever you need or want, it’s yours.”

“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.