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

her a secret thrill to bait him.

      His expression hardened, filling her with satisfaction that he couldn’t have it all his own way every second. “It might be too high.”

      “You mean for a woman like me,” she mimicked him. “You’ve made your point and are probably right.”

      “Stop the pretense, Laura.”

      She’d had it with him. “What have I done wrong now, Raoul?”

      A bleak expression entered his eyes, almost human. She didn’t know he could look like that, and it softened her to discover he might have feelings. “According to Pierre, you’ve been out here two hours. That’s a long time when you can’t even tour the rooms.”

      “I wasn’t interested in the interior.”

      “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

      “Since you’ve already decided what kind of woman I am, I guess it wouldn’t.”

      He sucked in his breath. “What’s your real reason for being here?”

      She laughed. “My real reason? What’s yours?”

      His black brows formed a bar above his eyes. “Paul hoped you’d be back so you’d teach him CPR.”

      “Paul was very endearing when he said he’d like to learn, but I couldn’t pin him down to a time. We decided to play it by ear.”

      “Are you certified?”

      “Yes. Since you’re such a protective uncle, I’ll have you know I’ve taught hundreds of people.”

      “Even adult males?”

      She cocked her head. “Are you needing a lesson?”

      “And if I were?” he mocked.

      She eyed him frankly. “I don’t know. Can you afford me? But maybe the better question to ask would be, can your reputation stand being in the company of a married woman like me?”

      A little nerve hammered at his temple. “How married are you?” he demanded.

      If she wasn’t mistaken, the subject had him all worked up. This was getting fascinating. “You either are, or you aren’t. Which are you, by the way, Raoul?”

      “Don’t change the subject.”

      “It’s the same subject, as far as I can tell, Raoul. Why don’t you want to talk about yourself? What are you afraid of?” she teased with a smile. “Has your wife hired a private detective to follow your every move so he can show her pictures of the latest woman in your life? I’m told blackmail is still big business in France. Especially when you’re talking the Laroche fortune. Come on and tell me the truth. Who has more? You or Guy?”

      His chest rose and fell visibly. “Does he know what you’ve been doing out here alone?”

      Laura couldn’t keep up with his thought processes. He was all over the place. She felt like she was on the witness stand. “Of course. He’s the one who suggested I ask Pierre to drive me.”

      The glitter coming from those dark eyes jolted her. “Guy would do anything for you wouldn’t he.”

      “Well … I did save his life.”

      “Can you prove it?” he bit out.

      “No, but I imagine if you ask any of his friends who were there like Maurice or Luigi, they would be able to tell you. Luigi was exceptionally grateful to me too. In fact, he asked me if I’d like to spend the night at his villa in Rome, but Guy got to me first.”

      Raoul shifted his weight restlessly before staring into her eyes. “I’ll concede I’ve been a little rough on you. For the last time, why did you come out here to this villa?”

      “So if I tell you now, you’ll believe me?”

      “Let me hear it first,” he murmured, though it seemed to cost him to allow even that much latitude.

      “I wanted to do some sketches of the estate while there weren’t too many people around.” I wanted to get away from you. “During the day visitors often stop to talk or ask questions and it interrupts my concentration. Does that satisfy you?”

      “No.” He almost hissed the word.

      The white-hot heat of anger ran up her body to her face. “That’s because you hoped to catch me with a man so you could tell your brother to throw the scheming opportunist out of his house. Before you do that, you’d better be able to explain how I had time to do this!”

      She opened her tote bag and thrust the sketchpad at him. “Go on. Look inside. I dare you,” she whispered because if she said it in any louder, she’d rouse the security people stationed around the villa.

      In an economy of movement he turned back the cover. It was a new sketchpad, the one she’d put in her purse before they left for Antibes. The first three pages were drawings she’d done down on the marina while she had been waiting for him. However, the next twenty contained her series of the Villa Leopolda.

      Not even Raoul could argue that she’d had time for a secret tryst and still complete that many detailed drawings in a two-hour time limit. This was the first time he’d seen any of her artwork. He studied each one for an indefinite period. She experienced immense delight watching him eat crow.

      Eventually he closed it and handed it back to her. His eyes were mere black slits. “You’re very gifted,” his voice grated.

      “But you still dislike me. I can live with that as long as you stay out of my way until the two weeks are up. So far you’ve had trouble in that department.” His lips thinned at that remark. She couldn’t be happier. “As you can see from your own experience, men have a hard time leaving me alone, whatever their private reasons. It gets tiring and I’m tired. May I have a ride home, please?”

      After a thorough study of her features, he opened the front passenger door for her. She moved past him and got in, thankful she’d worn pants with her striped top. Every time his searching gaze wandered over her, she felt exposed and vulnerable.

      Once he closed the door and went around to the driver’s side, she slipped the sketchpad into her purse, but when she started to fasten her seat belt he forestalled her and drew her into his arms. The action brought her cheek against his freshly shaved jaw, causing her hair to flounce like gold silk. Sensing he was going to kiss her, she hid her face in his neck.

      He bit her earlobe gently. “You know we’ve both been wanting this since we met. Why so coy, Laura?”

      She admitted it, but he’d chosen the wrong word. It had a connotation that meant she was playing a game, pretending to be shy while at the same time being intentionally flirtatious and silly. Though he hadn’t meant to, he’d brought her back to reality in a hurry.

      She moved her head so she could see into his eyes. “That’s right,” she mocked. “From a woman like me you want brazen. I’m afraid I’m all out of that flavor today.”

      His face darkened with lines. “Let’s find out, shall we?” He crushed her mouth with his own. Slowly he began devouring her, giving her little chance to breathe with her gathered so closely against him. The primitive nature of the kiss rocked her to the core, calling out her natural desire.

      With no other people around, Laura had the sense they were far away from civilization. Alone with this man, she was spinning out of control. It frightened her she could feel this way so fast and she started to pull away.

      “I’d say that was an interesting experiment,” he murmured against her lips before allowing her to move away from his arms. “It leaves me to wonder if you respond the same way to other men … to my brother for instance.”

      Her head jerked around. Shock set her back so it was difficult to find the words. Her veins had turned to ice water.

      “I