“Merci, madame.”
Louisa looked up, blinking fast and trying to smile at a waiter who left the bill. She put down her euros, then drank the rest of her tasse of hot black coffee. She glanced down at her sleeping baby in the stroller, feeling warmth and adoration swelling her heart.
“I’ll find a way to break through to him,” she whispered to her sleeping child. She’d find a way to make him forgive his mother…but how?
“Mi vida.”
Louisa nearly jumped in her chair when she heard Rafael’s voice behind her. With a gasp, she turned and saw him climbing out of the limousine that had pulled to the curb. “What are you doing here?”
He slammed the door closed then walked toward her.
“Are you and Noah having a nice morning?” he said, smiling.
She rose to her feet so quickly all the blood rushed from her head. “We were just leaving.”
She’d chosen this café in the Quartier Latin because of its distance from their penthouse, which was in the more exclusive eighth arrondissement across the river. She’d known he had a full schedule today, meeting a new stockholder who owned a château to the south of the city. She’d never imagined he might drive right by the café. Of all the quirks of fate…
She was suddenly sweating in the cool spring air. If Rafael’s car had driven past this café just ten minutes ago, he would have actually seen his mother sitting beside her!
Their marriage, their building trust, could have been destroyed forever. She glanced down at her sleeping baby. Noah was so precious to her. Was she being a fool to risk a decent life, in hopes of having a happy family?
Rafael smiled at her. He looked so handsome in his dark suit and blue tie. His jawline was sharp and shaved, his eyes bright in the sunshine.
“Before I met with my stockholder, I went up to La Défense,” he said. “Our new building is perfect.”
“Is it done? Ahead of schedule?”
“Next week we’ll start moving our people in. Then I’ll take you to see it.”
But would she still be his wife next week? Louisa’s hands tightened on the handle of the stroller.
“Shall we walk back to the apartment?” he said.
Her eyes widened. “You have time? Now, in the middle of the day?”
Rafael shrugged. “It is a beautiful morning. I’ll make time.”
She swallowed. Of all the days she’d wished he would spend time with her, he was choosing now? Now, when she was racked with guilt and fear over what she’d done, bringing his mother secretly to Paris? She took a deep breath and tried to smile. “That would be lovely.”
They walked together along the river. She gave him little glances. He’d been busy constantly with work since they’d arrived in Paris. He’d had time only to give his baby son a kiss each morning before he left—and when he came home late at night, he’d climbed into bed beside Louisa and made passionate love to her in the dark. But this was the most they’d spoken together in weeks.
In many ways, nothing had changed since the last time she’d lived in this city. She still based her whole world around Rafael Cruz, running his home and trying to gain his approval.
But in other ways, everything had changed. While she still oversaw the house, Rafael wanted her to spend her time as mother to their son—and as his wife. Which meant far too many shopping trips to the designer boutiques of the nearby Rue du Faubourg St-Honoré. In fact, in a few days, she would attend her first society ball on his arm.
The thought of attending the soirees she’d once organized for him, not as his housekeeper but as his wife, terrified her. The thought of facing all the various women he’d once slept with—and for all she knew, might someday sleep with again—made her ill.
She’d tried to create a loving home. But it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. He still didn’t allow himself to be vulnerable. He still wouldn’t allow himself to love either her or the baby.
Springtime in Paris was lovely. The flowers and trees were starting to come back to life. The baby was awake and chortling happily, kicking his feet in the air as Rafael pushed the stroller, by the time they reached the eighteenth-century building near the Champs-Élysées. Rafael owned the entire building, but only used the top two floors to live in. The floor beneath was for his bodyguards and assistants, and the several floors below that were being used as office space until the new headquarters was finished.
As the elevator opened to their spacious penthouse, Louisa took a deep breath at the beauty of the home and the view of the city. She could see the Eiffel Tower across the river. Even as housekeeper, she’d loved this home; and now she was not only its mistress, but the mistress of all Rafael’s homes around the world.
But if he knew the truth about how she’d brought his mother to Paris and allowed her to spend time with Noah behind his back…
It was wrong. Louisa knew she shouldn’t have done it. But he was so caught up in his ideas of revenge.
How could she ever make him forgive his mother, how could she ever get him to open his heart, without causing him irreparable harm?