Weddings: The Proposals. Rebecca Winters

him. “We can’t anyway. There’s a pair of chaperones on board.”

      “Let’s take them home. I’m going to fix you dinner at my villa where no one will be around to disturb us.”

      Laura kissed his jaw. “I understand you have a pool.”

      “I do. It’s shaped like a full moon.”

      “Do you ever swim in it?”

      “Not for years.”

      “Why?”

      “Have you ever noticed how lonely a pool can feel when you’re the only one in it?”

      She rubbed her cheek against his. “Yes. Did you live there with your wife?”

      “No. Danielle’s from Vence. When we married, she wanted to continue living there. It’s only twenty minutes from my work, so we bought a home there.”

      “I remember it. You drove us through the main street after we left Tourettes. It’s a charming town.”

      “I agree. Her parents still live there.”

      It was heaven to be able to talk to him like this. “How long were you married?”

      His eyes played over her features. “Five years.”

      More than double the length of Laura’s fiasco of a marriage. “Does she still live there?”

      “Yes.”

      “Do you ever—” She looked away. “I mean, do yo—”

      “No.” He read her mind. “My feelings for her died long ago. Naturally I have memories of us falling in love, but not the emotions that once accompanied them.”

      Laura nodded. “I know what you mean.”

      “Then why are we wasting our time talking about the past?”

      Laura didn’t want to think about it, either. “Can we swim in your pool tonight?” she asked in an aching voice.

      He pressed an urgent kiss to her mouth. “I’m living for a moon bath, as long as you take it with me.”

      As a shiver of delight ran through her body, she heard a familiar voice call out. “Uncle Raoul? When are you coming back?”

      That slight tinge of anxiety was the only power that could have wrenched her from his embrace.