He reached for her bag and took both of them to the counter in the lobby to be held until later. Afterward he wandered over to the side bar for a cup of coffee and a baguette. When he returned, he took the seat opposite her and dunked his bread in the hot liquid before eating it with obvious enjoyment. There was clearly no problem with his appetite.
“When you’re ready, we’ll walk over to the road and watch what we came to see.” His voice sounded half an octave lower this morning. Even after everything that had transpired, she still ached for him.
There was a tiny cut at the side of his jaw where he must have hurt himself shaving. It was the only thing she could find that might indicate he wasn’t in total control. Somehow the thought was reassuring.
As she was finishing the last of her juice, he lifted her sunglasses from her face. His knuckle brushed the end of her nose. “I thought so,” he muttered before setting them back in place.
She froze. “You’re a true Frenchman all right. When you butcher your animal, you don’t leave any parts.”
A faint white line of anger circled his mouth. Good.
He got up from the table at the same time she did. Like a couple who’d lived too long together and didn’t find pleasure in each other’s company, they left the hotel with several feet between them and made their way down the side street to the main road packed with fans. It was tragic, really, that she couldn’t enjoy the glorious view from this famous spot, but she was too numb.
Raoul found a place where they could stand and see everything. She people watched in order not to stare at him. They were probably the only two fans on the mountain who weren’t chatting excitedly. After twenty minutes the first cars riding ahead of the bikers came in sight. The crowd grew noisier. Pretty soon there was an explosion of sound because the first five racers had been spotted.
They looked hot and miserable. Deep lines around their mouths reflected the strain on their bodies. Everyone passed them cups of water. Sometimes the passage became so narrow she was afraid a tourist would ruin the race for them. Finally they cycled in front of her and Raoul. None of the five were on the French or American teams.
A few minutes after they started down the other side of the summit, up came the peloton. For a second she spotted the biker in the yellow jersey. The whole scene looked chaotic when you were seeing it in person rather than on TV. The cyclists rode past, their legs moving like pistons. Several of them fell back, their bikes moving wobbily, as if the racers were on the verge of collapse.
All this effort to see them go by. Now it was over.
She glanced at Raoul through her sunglasses. “I’m going to walk to the helipad.”
He nodded. “I’ll be there as soon as I collect our luggage.”
Without watching him, she took off down the mountain at a brisk pace. It felt good to expend some energy. This was one time when she wished she could plunge in the surf and swim way out to catch a wave.
Amazing that by the time she reached the helicopter, Raoul had somehow caught up to her and showed no signs of being winded. She greeted the pilot, then climbed in the back and strapped herself in.
Raoul stowed their bags, then took his place in the copilot’s seat. He spoke in rapid French to the pilot before the blades began to rotate. Once they were whipping the air, the helicopter lifted off, leaving her stomach behind.
The scene out the window could only be described as spectacular. She could see the zigzag road beneath them, but there was no sign of the cyclists because the helicopter was headed in the opposite direction from Bourg d’Oisons, the end of the day’s eighth stage.
She didn’t need to ask Raoul anything. He’d accomplished what he had come here to do, but since she hadn’t given him the satisfaction of an explanation, he was taking her home, thank heaven.
While Raoul and the pilot talked quietly together, the uneventful flight back to Cap Ferrat allowed her to sleep. When she woke up, she was surprised to discover they’d landed on the estate.
Raoul had already climbed out of the helicopter and had put her bag in the limo. “Pierre will take you to the villa.”
She said a collective thank-you to him and the pilot before getting in the car. Raoul shut the door as if he couldn’t wait to see her gone from here. Nothing could hurt more than the memory of last night when she’d thought Raoul had truly started to care for her. To think all along he’d been waiting for the perfect moment to expose her. The pain of it was excruciating.
After reaching the villa, Pierre got out and handed her the overnight bag. She thanked him before hurrying inside the house. She almost ran into Guy, who must have heard the helicopter and was coming out to greet her.
He gave her a hug before looking at her. “What’s wrong?” he asked immediately. “You look pale. Did the helicopter make you ill?”
“Oh, no. I’m a little tired.” She put her bag down.
“You’re back sooner than I would have expected.”
“As it turned out, Raoul didn’t want to see the end of the stage because his team wasn’t winning.” A white lie, but it was the best she could come up with at the moment. He smiled. “My brother always was a terrible loser. Now you’ve seen him at his worst.”
Guy could have no idea… . “How’s Chantelle?”
A shadow crossed over his features. “She went down for a nap a little while ago.”
“And Paul?”
“With a friend. They’ve gone bike riding.”
“Guy—” She took a huge breath. “Could we talk in private?”
“Bien sur.”
“But if you were working—”
“It’s nothing I can’t do later. Let’s go to your sitting room. No one will disturb us there.” That’s right. It was the one room in the villa off-limits to Raoul.
He carried her bag down the hall for her. She went inside the suite first. After he followed her in, she shut the door and they both sat down on the chairs placed around the coffee table.
“Guy—there’s something vitally important I have to tell you.”
“I already know.”
She blinked. “Know what?”
“About you and Raoul.”
Laura started to feel sick again. “There is no me and Raoul, Guy.” Her heart was thudding too fast for it to be healthy.
“Jean-Luc seems to think so. He called me this morning. He doesn’t want to lose out on this latest sale in Antibes. Since Raoul won’t commit yet, he’s been trying to convince me the property is worth buying. That’s when it all came out. He saw you in front of the warehouse with my brother.”
Laura sat forward in a panic, her thoughts reeling. “If you’re talking about that kiss, Raoul did it as a joke. Chantelle told me he has his little demons. I think one came out that day.”
Guy chuckled. “My brother has been full of surprises lately.”
“He’s very amusing. I know it didn’t mean anything. He said the real estate agent was a huge gossip, and he wagered you’d hear about it within twenty-four hours. Looks like he was right.
“Seriously though, you’ve all been terrific to me including Raoul, who’s been kind enough to show me around. He made it possible for me to see a stage of the Tour de France. I was thrilled.”
He nodded. “I’m glad you’re