Weddings
The
Proposals
The Brooding Frenchman’s Proposal
Rebecca Winters
Memo: The Billionaire’s Proposal
Melissa McClone
The Playboy Firefighter’s Proposal
Emily Forbes
MILLS & BOON
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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.