Captivated By The Brooding Billionaire (Holiday with a Billionaire 1) - Page 55

“Then let’s do it when you can get away. I know this isn’t the best time.”

“How do you know that?”

“I heard you tell Paul you were taking him to Paris sometime this week.”

“So I did.”

“How long would you be gone?”

“I’ll leave in the morning and be away until the next night, but I don’t want to leave you. Marrying you has put everything else out of my head.”

“While you’re gone, I’ll start my French lessons. I already have several tutors lined up. When you return, we’ll plan a trip after you’ve looked at your schedule. Living in this cottage with you is the only honeymoon I could ever want.”

“I’m thinking the Cinque Terre on the Italian Riviera. You’ll be enraptured with the landscape.”

“I don’t know of it.”

“That makes it even better.” He kissed her throat. “I want to shower with you and then I’ll help you fix breakfast.”

She flashed him that come-hither look. He didn’t know if she did it on purpose, but it didn’t matter because it worked.

“You know I’m learning to like what you eat in the morning? Bread dunked in coffee. It’s so easy and nonfattening. It won’t do for your wife to put on weight. All I need to hear someone say is ‘There goes that plump Americaine, waddling her way through the Decorvet vineyard.’”

Raoul burst into laughter. It reverberated throughout the cottage. He’d give her the moon if he could. “After we eat, let’s drive into Dijon and buy you a car. You can always use one of mine, but I’m sure you’d like your own. What kind would suit you?”

“Something that’s economical and will always start.”

He chuckled. “That can be arranged. You’re too easy to please.”

She slid her arms around his neck beneath the spray of water. “If you don’t know it by now, all I want is you.” The new ways she showed him proof of her love told him without words this marriage would last forever.

Once they’d dressed and eaten, Raoul left the cottage a new man as they walked out to the Maserati. With his delectable wife clinging to him, the sunny day added a punctuation mark to his mood of euphoria.

By dinnertime she’d decided on a Peugeot 308 in dark blue, but it wouldn’t be ready until he returned from Paris.

“Tonight I’d like to take you dancing.” He drove them to a popular restaurant/discotheque, but after a few dances he wanted to take her home. “I need to be alone with you as much as possible before I have to leave in the morning.”

“I’m so glad you said that,” she whispered against his neck.

They couldn’t get back to the cottage fast enough. When his alarm went off at six the next morning, they both groaned. Loving her half the night had only made him hungrier for more.

He leaned over her. “I have to meet Paul at the helipad in twenty minutes. Take care and don’t let anything happen to you while I’

m gone.”

“Call me. I won’t be able to breathe again until you’re back safely.”

* * *

Abby slept in late. After getting up, she ate some fruit and bread, then started cleaning. Raoul would have sent a maid, but she wanted to keep house for him. She put in a wash and by midafternoon she’d showered and dressed in jeans and a blouse.

He’d given her keys to both cars. She could take either one if she wanted to go out. While she was debating whether to take a drive around the region to get more acquainted with it, she heard a knock on the door. Maybe he’d sent one of the maids after all.

When she opened the door, she received the shock of her life. Josette and their mother stood on the porch. They’d known Raoul had left for Paris with Paul and that she was alone.

“Will you forgive us for coming without phoning you first?” This from his mother who spoke excellent English. “I was afraid you might hang up, and you would have had every right. We haven’t even been formally introduced yet. I’m Hélène-Claire. This is my daughter, Josette.”

Abby never dreamed she’d see them on the doorstep, not after what happened last Thursday in the grandparents’ salon. Even more astounding was that she was wearing the pin Abby had given her. She wore it on the lapel of her pale blue cotton suit. It had to be some kind of a miracle.

Tags: Rebecca Winters Holiday with a Billionaire Billionaire Romance
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