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

As he leaned forward to give her a kiss on both cheeks, she heard Raoul’s rasping voice in the periphery. “The maid said I’d find you in here, mon frère.” He moved deeper into the sitting room. His glittery gaze fell on Laura.

“I did knock, but you didn’t hear me. Sorry to disturb, but Paul has had a mishap on his bike coming home from his friend’s. An ambulance took him to the hospital to check him out. The E.R. called to say he’s fine. They’re ready to release him to his parents.”

“He’s all right?” Guy looked visibly shaken. Raoul nodded. “Grâce a ciel!”

“Do you want me to get him?” Raoul asked. “If he’s here before Chantelle wakes up, then she won’t be as disturbed when he tells her what happened.”

“Let’s both go, Raoul.” He turned to Laura. “Will you stay here? If Chantelle wakes up before we’re back, tell her we went on an errand.”

“I will, but, Guy? Maybe she should be told. Paul’s her son, too. She adores him. If she thought he needed her, she might forget herself for a little while and go with you. You never know.”

His eyes grew suspiciously bright. “Why didn’t I think of that? Dieu merci you’re here, Laura! I’m going to wake her up right now. Things couldn’t be any worse than they have been. Why not act on your suggestion and see what happens?” He kissed her cheek again before dashing out of the suite.

CHAPTER SIX

LAURA stood there trembling. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone.”

“What if I do mind?” Raoul challenged. His brother had gone. “Did you tell him I had you investigated?”

Her eyes looked wounded. “I don’t know why you bother to ask me, when we both know you don’t believe a word that comes out of my mouth.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “That’s not true, Laura.”

“I thought you would want to go with your brother. He needs you.”

“I think I’ll wait a few minutes. You gave him an idea. Coupled with his guilt over the accident, he might achieve a little success with Chantelle.”

When she bit her lip like that, her whole persona changed from the confident woman of the world to someone sweet and vulnerable. Which one was she, or was she an amalgamation of both?

“Once before, you mentioned Guy’s guilt about the accident. Why should he feel any blame?”

Raoul rubbed his chest absently. “Apparently they’d had an argument that day, one of the few in their marriage. Chantelle was all set to visit a good friend of hers who lives in Monaco. Guy is superstitious about certain things and he told Chantelle he didn’t want her to drive the Monaco road, because it was too dangerous. Princess Grace died on that road.

“She refused to listen to him on that subject. On that particular day he forbade her to go, but she went anyway and ended up having the accident. Not on that road, as it happens, not even in Monaco. It took place in Nice. She was driving her sports car too fast. It shimmied on a bridge. She lost control and it rolled into some heavy shrubbery where the car lay hidden for four hours.”

Laura sank down on the nearest chair. “How ghastly.”

“It was, for a lot of reasons. Guy took it all on, saying it was his fault he’d upset her, thus the reason she’d gone over the side. When the doctor told her she was fully recovered and could stop using the wheelchair, she reverted to the way she is today.

“At first Guy thought she was teasing to get back at him, but after twelve hours it became apparent something much more serious was preventing her from returning to normal. Needless to say, he’s been going downhill ever since, as has their marriage.”

A gasp escaped her throat. “All they need is this bad news about Paul.” She covered her eyes with her hand. “How serious are his injuries?” she whispered.

“A gash on the side of his left thigh. It took ten stitches.”

“Ouch.”

“He’ll be fine.”

“Was it his fault?”

“No. A truck passed another car and drifted into the bike lane, sending Paul flying.”

“That must have been so frightening for him.” She jumped back up from the chair, obviously too restless to sit. “Your family can’t take much more.”

Raoul studied her well-shaped head, marveling at the color of her pale-blond hair. It had an ethereal quality, all the more stunning on such a striking woman. Today she wore it loose from a side part. Of all the styles, he liked it the best.

“I couldn’t agree more.” He moved closer to her. “My brother is more fragile than you know. Whatever goes on between you and your husband is your own business, but if it could hurt Guy, then it becomes mine. Why are you afraid to talk about your husband?” he asked her in a voice she had never heard from him before: soft, gentle.

A nervous hand went to her throat. “Why haven’t you ever talked about your wife?”

Her response exasperated him. “Because this is about Chantelle and Guy, not me. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“That depends on your definition of the word.”

“You mean Guy’s going to help you.”

She flashed him a warning glance. “I’m afraid that’s none of your business. Unlike you, I meant no offense. In case you didn’t notice, I don’t ask you personal questions.”

“I’ve noticed,” he said sharply, growing more frustrated every second. “What would you like to know?”

He watched her swallow, another telltale sign she was growing more and more uncomfortable. “Nothing.”

Such an innocuous word said so innocuously. “Surely you’ve wondered why I don’t seem to have a household of my own.”

“Not really.”

“That’s a lie.”

She folded her arms against her shapely waist. “Since you’re now reverting to your baser instincts, I guess that’s my cue to ask the ten-million-dollar question.”

He smiled wickedly and her insides lit. “It’s nice to know you put that high a price on the answer.”

She tossed her head, causing her hair to float above her shoulders. “All right, I give up. Why did you and your wife divorce?”

“She lied to me about something I can never forgive her for. All the time we were married I thought she wanted children as much as I did. We planned to have a family, but she never had any intention of getting pregnant.”

Something flickered in the depths of those green orbs. “She did a very cruel thing to you. I’m sorry.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me anything else?” he prodded.

“I don’t need to. A lie says it all, don’t you think?”

If he didn’t miss his guess, that was pain he heard in her voice. “Not all. The follow-up might be. Am I sad about my marriage being over? Am I happy it came to an end?”

Her expression closed. “If you’re sad, then it’s a tragedy. If you’re happy, then it speaks for itself.”

“What about your marriage?” he drilled her, ready to erupt if she didn’t tell him something he could understand.