The Frenchman's Bride

“I’m sorry, Hallie. The last thing I want to do is offend you. I want to close the door on that chapter of my life forever.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“But will you be able to forgive me?”

She jerked her head around. He saw a blur of blue-green fire. “How can you ask me that? Don’t you realize I’m your friend?”

Friend.

In his gut he recognized he wanted her to be more than that to him….

Rebecca Winters, an American writer and mother of four, is excited to be in this new millennium because it means another new beginning. Having said goodbye to the classroom where she taught French and Spanish, she is now free to spend more time with her family, to travel and to write the Harlequin Romance® novels she loves so dearly.

Rebecca loves to hear from readers. If you wish to e-mail her, please visit her Web site at: www.rebeccawinters-author.com.

The Frenchman’s Bride

Rebecca Winters

MILLS & BOON

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

REACHING for a towel, Vincent Rolland stepped from the shower of his London hotel suite having made the decision to fly to Paris after his business lunch later in the day. This weekend he’d be taking his twins home to St. Genes. He couldn’t wait.

The chateau had been like a tomb without them. Though there’d been phone calls and visits, the nine month school year had been too long a separation.

It was Thursday. They weren’t expecting him until Friday, but he wanted to surprise them. Tonight they would celebrate the end of school together before flying home to their chateau tomorrow.

While he was shaving, he heard his cell phone ring. It was probably one of the children calling him now.

He hurried into the other room to answer it. A glance at the caller ID told him someone from St. Genes was ringing.

Hopefully nothing was wrong.

“Oui?”

“Bonjour, Vincent.” It was the housekeeper. She sounded in good spirits.

“Bonjour, Etvige. How’s Pere Maurice?”

“Don’t worry. He and Beauregard just left on their morning walk.”

That was reassuring; with the twins away, his grandfather and the dog were becoming devoted to each other.

“Monsieur Gide at the bank in Paris called you. He’d like you to phone him as soon as you can. Here’s his number.”

Monsieur Gide? Vincent hadn’t talked to him since he’d set up an account for the twins last fall.

He wrote it down. “Merci, Etvige. Tell Pere Maurice I’ll call him from Paris.”

Once they’d hung up, he punched in the number and was put through to the bank manager.

“Thank you for getting back to me so quickly, Monsieur Rolland. You did say to phone if the need arose.”

“Of course. What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to let you know that two days ago your son wrote a check for a large sum of money. Before I put it through, I thought I should call to be certain you approved.”

“How large?”

“Eighty-seven hundred Eurodollars. There’ll be nothing left in the account.”

On hearing the banker’s words, disappointment swept through Vincent that his children hadn’t waited for him before they spent it.

“It’s all right, Monsieur. I promised them a car if they did well in their end of year exams.”

“A car? I’m afraid this check was made out to Rue Vendome Fine Jewelry.”

Jewelry—

A shudder passed through his body.

Just hearing the word was like an echo from the blackest period of his life.

“Hold the check until I’ve made an inquiry.”

“Very good, Monsieur. Here’s the number.”

As soon as Vincent hung up, he called the jewelry store.

Vincent couldn’t imagine what this was all about. On the whole his children had always exercised good judgment and were trustwor—

“Bijoux Vendome.”

“Bonjour, Monsieur. I’d like to talk to the manager please.”

“Speaking.”

“This is Vincent Rolland.”

“Oh yes, Monsieur Rolland. Just the other day your son was in to buy an exquisite ring for the woman he intends to marry. He is very much in love and insisted on the finest aquamarine to match her eyes.”

“Mon Dieu,” Vincent whispered in agony.

He gripped the phone tighter. History was repeating itself. Like father, like son…

“Hallie?”

Hallie Linn had just left Tati’s department store in Paris where she worked when she heard a familiar voice. She glanced to her left. A taxi had pulled up alongside her and the rear door was flung open.

In the back sat Monique Rolland, the vivacious French girl who’d attached herself to Hallie over the last school year.

“What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you. It’s your birthday! We’re going to celebrate!”

Birthday? She’d completely forgotten about it.

Furthermore, Hallie had already said a final goodbye to Monique and her brother Paul two days ago. Hallie was sure that this was just another excuse to get the three of them together before the twins went home to the Dordogne region of France for the summer.

Monique’s unexpected presence outside Hallie’s work meant the motherless teen still couldn’t let go and was feeling the wrench of separation.

In truth, so was Hallie.

While she’d been in Paris doing service as a lay nun for the Dominican’s international outreach program, she’d learned to love the precocious twins like family. To spend any more time with them would make it that much harder for Hallie to leave. But she had to; Hallie would be entering a convent in San Diego, California, in two weeks.

“How did you know it was my birthday? I didn’t even remember it.”

“When we crossed the Channel to spend the day in England Paul sneaked a peek at your passport. Now get in the taxi!” she cried. “We’re blocking the traffic!”

Hallie didn’t budge. “You’re supposed to be at school right now. You know very well they’re having a farewell dinner for everyone.”

“I’d rather be with you. Don’t worry. I obtained special permission to stay out until eight o’clock. Come on. We’re wasting time.”

At this point the impatient taxi driver muttered a curse, prompting Hallie into action. Against her better judgment she climbed in the back seat. Once she’d shut the door, the driver darted into the crush of traffic. It was a miracle they didn’t have an accident.

“Where are we going exactly?”

Monique flashed her a mischievous smile. “That’s my surprise.”

“Another one?”

There’d been so many throughout the last nine months, but Monique had never shown up in a taxi before. They normally walked or took the subway and trains.

“Is it far?”

There was a hint of mystery in Monique’s expression. “Wait and see.”

“Look me in the eye and swear that your headmistress said you could stay out late.”

With a toss of her head, Monique dismissed Hallie’s concerns as utter nonsense.

“I thought so,” Hallie murmured. “Not only are you breaking the rules, if we travel much further, this taxi ride is going to cost too much money for your budget. I’m getting out at the next intersection.”

“No!” Monique cried out. “You can’t do that or you’ll spoil everything!”

A certain nuance in Monique’s voice told her that not only had the twins organized something elaborate, they’d been planning it for a long time.

“You know I don’t want to ruin your surprise, but I’d hate to see either of you get into trouble on your last school night.”

“I passed my finals with highest marks. Besides, the headmistress wouldn’t dare get me into trouble with Papa.”

“Why not?”

“Because he never forgets to bring her a supply of the best wine from our vineyards when he comes to Paris.” Her dark brows arched. “She wouldn’t want that to end, or the visits. So far he has resisted her attempts to seduce him, but she hasn’t given up yet.”

The cynical comment coming from the mouth of such a wonderful young woman wounded Hallie.

“Don’t look so shocked, I’ve told you before that all women find my father irresistible, money or not.”

While Hallie was digesting this latest confidence about the headmistress, she noticed they had arrived in the sixteenth arrondissement, an area noted for being one of the most prestigious residential neighborhoods in Paris.

The taxi drove along the Rue de Passy with its many shops, then turned down another road and eventually pulled up in front of an apartment building. It was a beautiful example of Fin de Siècle architecture. Only the extremely wealthy, like Monique’s father, could afford to live here.

Hallie followed Monique out of the taxi. Once she’d paid the driver, they entered the elegant lobby where she punched in a code so they could ride the elevator.

It took them to the third floor where the doors opened to an exquisite apartment with expansive rooms. Much of the furniture and fixtures were fine antiques, yet the sumptuous appointments created a welcoming feel.

Monique walked over to the French doors which led to a terrace. “Wow!” She darted Hallie a gamin smile. “Your own private view of the Bois de Boulogne.”

Paris in the spring. It was a glorious sight, but Hallie couldn’t concentrate on the view when she had serious reservations about spending more time with the twins.

“Does your father know about this?”

“Oh la la! For your information he’s in London on business and won’t come for us until tomorrow afternoon. Paul and I have been given permission to use the apartment for special occasions. Your twenty-fifth birthday is just such an event.”

Though Hallie had never met Vincent Rolland, she secretly admired him. For a single parent he seemed to have done an excellent job of raising his children. They didn’t smoke, take drugs or abuse alcohol. Both were exceptional students, bright and charming. In Hallie’s opinion they were quite outstanding. He deserved a great deal of credit for being a terrific father.

What she couldn’t understand was why he’d sent them away to boarding school. How had he stood to be parted from them? As for the twins, they adored him. Hallie knew they lived for his visits and telephone calls.

“I’d hate to think you were taking advantage of your father’s generosity because of me.”

“Of course we’re not! As I’ve told you before, you worry about us too much. We’ll only be here for an hour. S’il te plait, don’t be a, how do you say it? Wet rug?” She stamped her well shod foot, impatient for Hallie to relax.

“You mean, blanket, and that’s a dated expression. If you want to sound modern, try saying ‘don’t be such a big fat pain.”’

They both ended up chuckling.

Such an unlikely pair they were. Hallie’s well endowed figure was four inches taller than her five-foot-four friend who possessed a small framed body.

The French girl had a chic hairdo of short, dark brown curls that shaped her Gallic head. Hallie’s chin length blond hair had been styled in a beveled cut to look ruffled. It required little care which was the whole point.

The differences didn’t end there.

Where Hallie donned the cheapest blouse and skirt she could find in the bargain barrels at Tati’s, whenever Monique was out of school and they went on longer outings to Chartres or Mont St. Michel to visit the famous abbey, she always wore Italian designer clothes.

“Salut everyone!”

Paul, Monique’s twin brother, joined them on the terrace and kissed them on both cheeks. At a lean six feet, he was as good looking as his sister. Both twins wore their clothes well. Today he was dressed in a Polo shirt and jeans. Give him another eight to ten years and he would be a very attractive man.

He and Monique acted at home here. Maybe Hallie was being too cautious, but she knew the twins attended the very top private schools. With such strict rules, she didn’t want to be the reason they bent them. It would be a shame to ruin their good records at the midnight hour.

“Thank goodness, you’ve arrived, Paul. Hallie thinks we shouldn’t be here. She’s ready to fly the croup!”

“Coop,” came Hallie’s automatic response. “That’s another expression you need to throw out. If you want to be hip, I’d better buy you the latest book of idioms. Unfortunately by the time you’ve memorized it, all of them will be dated, too.”

Paul laughed. “You’re here now and we’re not letting you go until we’ve had a toast to celebrate your birthday. Come with me.”

They followed him into the dining room where he filled three wineglasses with golden liquid. The label on the bottle featured the Rolland name.

He lifted his glass. “To you, Hallie, for making this year unforgettable. May this be your happiest birthday!”

They all clicked glasses.

Hallie didn’t drink alcohol, but she took a sip so she wouldn’t offend them. They’d planned this little party in her honor. She was touched to realize they’d gone to so much trouble.

Before she left Paris she would write them a final letter of goodbye and wish them a happy life. So why not enjoy this unexpected moment of camaraderie while they were still together.

Monique excused herself for a moment, then returned with a gaily wrapped package Paul must have brought with him.

Hallie put her glass on the table so she could open it. Inside was a beautiful chiffon designer scarf in a café-au-lait and white print. “It will look nice with your brown skirt.”

Emotion made her throat swell. “It’s lovely, Monique.” Hallie tied it around her neck in order to please her. “But you shouldn’t have done it.”

“I would have given you a lot more things, but I knew you wouldn’t accept them. At least you can wear it for the rest of the time you work at Tati’s.”

“I’ll always treasure the memory of this day,” Hallie said, not wanting to argue the point. She would mail it back to Monique with the letter; she shouldn’t be spending her money on presents.

The French girl cocked her head. “It looks very elegant with that white blouse you’re wearing.”

“It’ll look elegant with my other blouses, too.”

“I know. They’re all white,” Monique quipped.

Suddenly the three of them were laughing. They had a healthy sense of humor. Hallie loved them and was feeling the sense of loss more keenly than ever.

She wasn’t supposed to form attachments, but they’d happened anyway. First in San Diego where she’d roomed with Gaby Peris before coming to France.

Gaby, a widowed immigration attorney who’d shared an apartment with Hallie to cut down on expenses, was now married to Max Calder, an ex-CIA agent. They had a new baby girl whom Hallie had only seen in pictures. They’d named her Hallie.

“Now, if you two will excuse me, I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

Hallie eyed Monique with a puzzled expression. “We just got here. Why are you leaving?”

“She’s going to her favorite shop before it closes, aren’t you,” Paul insisted with a strange smile.

“That’s right. À bientôt—see you in a bit.”

After Monique disappeared, Hallie turned to Paul. “You’re both acting very mysteriously.”

He rubbed his palms together. “If we are it’s because I wanted to be alone with you.”

“Why?”

“So I can do something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time.”

“What’s that?”

“This.”

In the next breath he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her lightly on her closed lips.

It came as such a complete surprise for all the obvious reasons, she decided to treat it as one of Paul’s little jokes. He was a terrible tease on occasion.

“Wow! My last kiss before I go into seclusion. You’ve definitely made this birthday unforgettable.”

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” he confessed. “Now close your eyes. I have something else to give you.”

“I think you’ve done enough for one day,” she cautioned, but he ignored her. In a lightning gesture he reached for her left hand and slid something cool and metallic on her ring finger.

Her smile faded when she glimpsed the square-cut aquamarine stone mounted in yellow gold. The gem had to be three carats at least!

The sheer clarity and color made her gasp.

Even if it was an imitation, it must have cost a lot of money. More than was prudent even for someone of Paul’s resources. When he knew what she was all about, it defied logic he actually meant her to have it.

What was he thinking?

She started to ask him, but the look of desire in his eyes stopped her cold.

“Happy twenty-fifth birthday, ma belle.”

Hallie blinked. Paul was serious.

She sensed he was trembling. Gone was the fun loving, lighthearted banter she’d always associated with him.

How long had this been going on?

In her attempt to be there for the twins as part of her service in the outreach program, she hadn’t realized he’d become infatuated with her. If there’d been telltale signs, she hadn’t read them.

“It’s a gorgeous piece of jewelry, but you’ll have to return it.”

“Don’t be silly.” He grasped her hands tighter so she couldn’t remove it. “Even if you don’t wear it, I want you to keep it as a constant reminder of me.”

“I can’t do that, Paul. You know why. Material things don’t matter to me. When I enter the convent, I won’t be taking anything with me.”

His eyes had grown suspiciously bright. “I’m counting on your not entering. I adore you, Hallie—” he cried with all the ardency of a lovestruck teen.

“I’m staying in Paris as long as it takes to talk you into coming home to St. Genes with me. You weren’t meant to be a nun. One day I hope you’ll become my wife.”

His wife—

He pulled her close with surprising strength. This time he gave her a man’s kiss filled with the heat of passion.

She couldn’t believe it!

“Paul—” She pushed her hands against his chest to separate them, but he was so strong! Right now she prayed for inspiration to know how to reject him without hurting his pride.

“What in the name of heaven is going on here?”

A deep masculine voice permeated the stillness. Paul sprang away from her, flushing guiltily.

Hallie, on the other hand, was still so dazed at the depth of Paul’s feelings for her—feelings he’d kept hidden until today—she was much slower to react to the interruption. All this time she’d thought of him like she might a younger brother.

“Papa—I thought you were in London,” he said in a subdued tone.

“Obviously,” came the terse reply. “I had the ridiculous impression my children might enjoy a celebration dinner with me this evening. But it appears your taste runs to something much stronger indeed.”

There could be no doubt from his acid tone that Vincent Rolland had come into the dining room, that he’d caught his eighteen year old kissing a strange woman, that he’d seen the wine bottle and glasses on the table.

The evidence was so incriminating, Hallie shook her head. It just couldn’t be worse for Paul, yet she really wasn’t surprised. She shouldn’t have ignored her earlier intuition that the twins had no business skipping school or bringing her to their father’s apartment.

Hallie simply hadn’t expected the man himself to arrive from England at the precise moment his son chose to reveal his affection for her.

Curiosity caused her to look across the expanse at Monsieur Rolland. She found herself staring at him.

The twins had shown her pictures of their father, but the camera hadn’t captured his disturbing sensuality. She hadn’t thought it possible any man could be more attractive than the new husband Hallie had lost in that horrendous plane crash two years ago. But she was wrong…

The twins had inherited their father’s dark hair and brown eyes. However there was none of their innocence in his piercing eyes as his gaze swept over her, assessing her feminine attributes for a long serious moment.

Hallie had been the object of men’s attention since her teens and had learned to live with it. However this man seemed to be looking for something beyond the physical. In the unremarkable blouse and brown skirt she was wearing, the designer scarf must appear ludicrously out of place.

He advanced into the dining room, his bronzed hands on his hips. Dressed in a pale blue knit shirt and cream colored jeans that molded his powerful thighs, his masculinity threw her senses into upheaval.

Closer now she could see his rock-hard physique topped Paul by several inches.

He picked up the wine bottle. One black brow slanted in displeasure. “I can’t fault your choice of vintage, but on a Thursday evening when you’re supposed to be celebrating the end of school with your classmates?” He finally put the bottle back on the table.

Paul cleared his throat. “Hallie’s birthday is much more important than being with a bunch of guys. Papa—may I introduce my friend, Mademoiselle Linn. We met last fall.”

Lines darkened his arresting features as he examined her face and hair once more. Then his gaze dropped lower until it came to rest on the aquamarine stone shimmering on her finger.

“Ms. Linn,” he muttered icily, insultingly, as if even having to acknowledge her presence was something he could scarcely tolerate.

Hallie was confused. Surely seeing her being kissed by his son didn’t warrant such venom. In fact, she had the idea this display of hostility was a rare occurrence.

Determined to smooth things over she said, “How do you do, Monsieur Rolland. Your children have sung your praises for so long, I’m glad to have this opportunity to meet you at last.”

“Papa? Could we go in the salon for a moment?”

“No, we could not.” The quiet rage boiling beneath the surface was unmistakable. His eyes, more black than brown, remained fastened on the ring. “Since Mademoiselle Linn is such an intimate part of your life, I see no reason to exclude her from this conversation.”

“It’s true that I’m in love with her,” he explained. “She means everything to me. In time I intend to marry her.”

Paul!

Not only was she years older in age and experience, he had to be in complete denial.

A pulse throbbed along his father’s jawline. “How very interesting… Now I understand why she’s wearing a piece of jewelry that caused you to withdraw the entire balance of your checking account for the school year!”

Hallie moaned.

Paul displayed the classic symptoms of a rich young man whose infatuation had led him to make a very foolish and costly mistake.

“I’ll always remember that you wanted to give me this ring, Paul, but you know the reasons why I couldn’t possibly accept it.”

She’d wanted to protect his sensitivities, but he’d gone too far and needed a wakeup call. Without hesitation she pulled the ring off her finger and put it on the table.

His face went ashen.