She refused to look at him while she removed her life jacket.
Raoul would give it through tomorrow. After that, he’d do whatever it took to break her down, even talk to her mother.
* * *
Cami arrived at the villa at noon on Sunday looking gorgeous in a red sweater and black skirt. He’d left the back door open for her. Today she’d worn her hair tied back with a black-and-red print scarf. She was stunning. A flowery fragrance clung to her.
She was a vision, but Raoul didn’t try to kiss her. “I hope you like steak for lunch.” They were sizzling on the grill.
Cami flashed him one of those sunny smiles, but he knew she was hiding a secret from him. He had a hard time believing she hadn’t recovered from her divorce. What else it could be he had no idea.
“First an Olympic swimming champion, now a cordon bleu chef!”
Laughter burst out of him. “Anything to impress you.”
“Cam—” Alain called out pointing to her.
“Bonjour, Alain!” She hurried over to kiss him.
Raoul had put his son in the high chair by the table and had wrapped a bib around his neck.
She sat down next to him. “Um. Junior chicken and noodles in the jar and a banana.” Cami looked up at Raoul. “Can I feed him?”
“He’s waiting for you.”
He watched her get busy cutting the banana into bite-size pieces. “Do you want so
me bananas too?” she asked Raoul.
He chuckled and watched her find ingenious ways to feed him his chicken.
“Bana—”
“Yes. You want more of those, don’t you?”
While she fed him, Raoul put the salad and brioches on the table with their plates of steak. Lunch was an incredibly happy affair. When it was time to leave, she wiped Alain’s hands and mouth with a moist cloth.
“Lunch was delicious, Raoul. Thank you.”
He had to get a grip on his emotions that were bursting inside of him. After finding his son’s little coat, he put it on him and they walked out to the car. Alain was making happy noises as he fastened him in his car seat in back. Then he drove them down the drive to the main street. Cami talked to his son while Raoul took them to the estate and wound around to the cemetery.
The headstone for his grandfather hadn’t been placed yet. Raoul kept going until he came to Jerome’s grave and stopped the car.
“Will you come with us?”
“Of course.”
She got out while he opened the back door and pulled Alain from his car seat. Holding him in one arm, he reached for the tin of flowers on the floor and carried everything to the site.
“Cam—” Alain called out and reached for her. To Raoul’s delight she pulled him into her arms. He played with the ends of her scarf. Raoul put the daisies at the base of the monument.
“Aren’t the flowers pretty?” She let Alain get down but held on to his hand. “Those are marguerites. Can you say mar-guer-ites?”
He listened, then said, “Marg—” emphasizing the hard g. It made her chuckle.
“That’s right. Your papa sent my mother marguerites. She loved them. I think they must be his favorite fleur.”
“Fleur.”