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

       “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 an eye on Laura. Last night at the Auberge she’d come close to giving him everything. Oh, Raoul.

      After a sleepless night, Raoul pulled on his swimming trunks. He had a plan in mind to get Laura to himself. That meant spending a little time with Paul at the pool.

      Sure enough his nephew dressed in shorts and a T-shirt was already stretched out on a lounger. His leg had been propped. Raoul dived in the water. When he came out the other end, Paul smiled at him. “Bonjour, mon oncle.”

      “Bonjour, mon gamin. Have you had breakfast yet?”

      “Yes. I ate out here with Laura.”

      They’d been up early. “Where’s your nurse now?”

      “She’s bringing me some things from my bedroom.”

      “Have you made plans with your friends yet?”

      “Nope.”

      “How would you and Giles like to go boating with me and Laura today?”

      “Cool!” he cried. “She didn’t tell me.”

      “It’s my surprise.”

      “Hey, Laura,” he called to her as she walked out on the patio carrying some things in her arms. Dressed in her white swimsuit with a French braid fastened to the top of her blond head and those long legs going on forever, she looked so beautiful Raoul almost fell back in the pool. “Uncle Raoul is going to take us out on the cruiser! He said Giles could come with us!”

      Other than her eyes turning a more brilliant shade of green, she didn’t react or make up some excuse why they couldn’t go. “As long as it’s okay with your parents, I don’t see why you shouldn’t enjoy a lovely day like this on the water.”

      She bent over him. “Here’s your Ipod, your Game Boy, some sunscreen and the album.”

      “Thanks.”

      “You’re welcome.”

      “How about something for me?” Raoul asked, drawing her attention.

      “Breakfast coming right up.” She disappeared before he could stop her.

      Paul started poring over a picture album. “Hey, Uncle Raoul? Do you want to see something cool?”

      He pulled a chair up by the lounger. “What is it?”

      “Some pictures of me and Laura.”

      “Bien sur.” Giles must have taken them.

      “Maman found them for me last night before I went to bed.”

      Found them?

      Paul handed over the album. He had it opened to a page with a dozen small photos. They were snapshots, the kind printed years ago. Consumed by curiosity, he studied them.

      To his shock he saw Laura in a swimsuit much like the one she was wearing now, but she was a teenager! His mind reeled. The little dark-haired boy she was holding was Paul! In another picture she was dressed in shorts and a blouse while she helped him walk. Still others showed them with Guy and Chantelle on the surf or around a pool.

      The blood hammered at his temples. Absolutely stunned, he lifted his head. “Where were these taken, Paul?”

      “At the Manhattan Beach Resort Hotel in California,” Laura answered for him. She put the breakfast tray on the little table next to Raoul. “The last summer before I started university, I was a part-time lifeguard and babysitter there.” Her gaze flicked to Paul.

      “The manager asked me if I would do a special favor and become the Laroches’ nanny for the ten days they were there at the beach. I took one look at little Paulie as I called you, and my heart melted on the spot.”

      “You called me Paulie?” He laughed.

      For a moment her gaze met Raoul’s. “I did. You had the most gorgeous brown hair and eyes for a one-year-old. Such smooth olive skin. Chantelle kept you dressed in the cutest little white sunsuits, and you were such a good boy, always smiling. There wasn’t a child around to compare to you. Of course, that’s because your parents are beautiful people inside and out.

      “I thought Guy was more handsome than that French movie star Louis Jourdan and your mom was even more stunning than Audrey Hepburn. When you all had to leave for Hawaii, I cried my eyes out.”

      Paul smiled up at her. “You did?”

      “Yes. For ten days I’d had the time of my life. Your parents begged me to go with all of you. You know how generous your dad is. He