Bachelor at Risk
by Rebecca Winters

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The Brooding Frenchman's Proposal

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Nicole's request was something Jean-Jacques couldn't turn down, otherwise it would make the situation appear to take on more importance than it warranted.

"How many children are there?" he asked to prevent her from leaving. She was already on her feet.

"Forty, if you count the babies and toddlers. Only the four- and five-year-olds will be coming to the villa. There are 18 of them."

Maybe it would be better to just get it over with now. Then he would only have to see her on Christmas Eve and that would be the end of it. Depending on how soon Dominic returned his call, Jean-Jacques could be back in Paris by New Year's Day.

"I have a phone conference arranged for two o'clock, but can fit in the shopping as long as we skip lunch."

"That's fine with me," she said, sounding undaunted. "Now that my students are out of school for the holidays, I've had a big breakfast with my parents the last two mornings."

He followed her to the outer office, where she reached for her coat. Then they headed for the company car in the parking lot.

"I thought you had a leisurely breakfast with your parents just about every morning of life." He shut her door, then went around to the driver's side of the car.

Nicole waited until they were merging with the traffic. "That might have been true when I was little. But like you, Jean-Jacques, I grew up and moved out of my parents' house years ago."

Where? A tight band around his chest constricted his breathing. As long as she'd lived at her parents' villa, she'd been like the princess on the glass hill. You needed a magic horse to ride to the top to claim her. There was nothing magic about the plow horses in the Armentier barn. They would never fill the bill.?

"Does that mean you're living in Antibes now? It's very beautiful along that stretch of the coast," he asked, remembering a time when they'd been riding around the towns near Vence on his motorbike and she'd pointed out the spectacular home overlooking the water, indicating that her father's aged parents lived there.

"Antibes ?"

"Yes. Didn't you move into the villa your grandfather willed to you?"

Nicole let out an angry laugh. "My grandparents' home was meant to be filled with a family, not a single working woman. I rent a small studio apartment down on the rue de Mistral."

His heart slammed into his ribs. It wasn't very far from his own apartment. He didn't want to hear any more. He didn't want to think about her there, alone, where he could have easy access.

"You amaze me, Jean-Jacques." Her voice trembled. "Do you honestly imagine that I lie around in some obscenely expensive designer negligee on my private terrasse overlooking the Mediterranean while I sip champagne and contemplate how I'm going to spend my billions this weekend?"

When he was in his late teens, those had been his exact thoughts, only they hadn't stopped there. He'd visualized himself climbing up to her terrasse and making slow, passionate love to her beneath the Midi sun, their bodies caressed by a gentle breeze filled with the scent of jasmine.

A deep ache seared him at the memory. Shakespeare could have set his two star-crossed lovers in Provence. Their names, Armentier and Giraud. Auguste Giraud wasn't the only person who'd wanted the two of them permanently separated. Jean-Jacques's parents had been equally adamant on the subject of their son ending all association with Nicole.

"It seems a great deal has changed while I've been away. I promise to stop making any more assumptions." He turned sharply to the right into the covered parking of Aux Quatre Saisons department store. "It may take a while for me to find a parking space. Why don't I let you out here and meet you in the toy department?"

To his relief, she didn't object. "See you a minute," she said before getting out of the car.

While he waited for the vehicle in front of him to move on, his eyes followed every bewitching movement of her gorgeous body. All the Christmas shoppers were watching her, too. Nicole was Vence's own unofficial princess. She couldn't go out in public without being the center of attention.

Mon Dieu, Nicole. I shouldn't have come with you. Already I have this gut feeling I'm going to regret it.…

The second Nicole entered the store, she expelled the breath she'd been holding. For a moment back in his office, she'd been afraid Jean-Jacques would refuse to come with her. But just because he'd felt obliged to help with the shopping, it didn't mean she could get him to do anything else.

Deep in her heart, she knew it was going to take some kind of miracle to get back what they'd once had.

With a determination born of her love for him, she proceeded with her plan. By the time Jean-Jacques joined her in the girls' section of the toy store, she'd already ordered mobiles for the babies and push toys for the toddlers to be wrapped and sent to the day care center.

Her pulse raced the moment she saw his tall, dark figure stride down the aisle toward her. Even from the distance separating them, she felt his black eyes searching hers. In his tan business suit, he looked every inch the urbane CEO, yet every woman in the store was aware of his hard-muscled body, the way it moved with that swift male grace of which he was unaware.

Gathering three of the season's most popular dolls in her arms, she turned so Jean-Jacques could see them. "Which face do you like the best?"

Through shuttered lids, his gaze passed over her face and body with haunting thoroughness before he fastened his attention on the dolls she was holding.

His dark brows furrowed. "They're not very appealing."

She chuckled. "I know. They're supposed to be homely. That's what makes them so endearing. Every little girl in France wants one. They're all the rage. Help me pick."

"I'm afraid you've asked the wrong person. If Brigitte had owned a doll like that, I probably would have hidden it just to give her a hard time."

"That's a terrible thing to say." But she smiled as she said it. "A lot of help you're being."

"I guess the redhead isn't so bad. Maybe you'd better give every girl the identical doll so they won't fight. The same ought to go for the boys."

"Have you decided on a gift for them?"

"Of course. A toy car, preferably a red Ferrari like your father's. Every little boy's fantasy."

If he'd profferred that little jab to remind her that they came from different worlds, it wasn't going to work. "Terrific! That made our shopping easy. I'll tell the salesclerk to get everything wrapped and have the gifts sent to the villa."

Before long they were back in the car trying to exit the shopping area, but the crowds were worse than ever. She heard Jean-Jacques mutter something unintelligible as he was forced to start, then stop, while they waited for the line of cars to move.

"We should have come on your motorbike." With her heart thudding in her chest, she ventured, "Do you still have it?"

"I would imagine it's still in my parents' garage."

"After you're through at the office for today, why don't we go for a ride on it?"

Lines darkened his face. "All right, Nicole. It's obvious you didn't need my help to buy toys. What was your real motive for getting me to come with you today? The truth," he bit out tersely.

She swallowed hard. "Five years ago you left Vence without one word of goodbye to me. Considering that I probably spent more time with you growing up than I did my own family or friends, it came as a tremendous shock to drive up to the lavanderie and be told you weren't there, that you'd left for Paris and wouldn't be coming back."

There was a tremor in her voice that touched something deep inside of him.

"Obviously you were so excited to leave, you gave no thought to anything else. It didn't even occur to you to write a note that you could have asked your family to pass on to me. Had you grown to despise my company so much, you couldn't spare me five minutes' explanation?"

Nicole turned to face him as Jean-Jacques decided what to say. Could he tell her the truth?