Sons of a Parisian Dynasty

  Claiming their legacy. Finding their family. Meeting their match!

  With the retirement of their patriarch, the renowned Causcelle triplets are taking over an aristocratic empire! These gorgeous yet media-shy billionaires are stepping into the spotlight to make their mark on Paris.

  Firstborn Nic has taken over the hotel branch of the business—and immediately caused a scandal with the company’s new attorney! While Raoul is heading up the rest of the corporation—at least until mysteriously absent Jean-Louis can be found...

  But while these brooding siblings are taking the business world by storm, their hearts are completely off-limits—when you’re this wealthy, love always comes with a catch, right? Until they meet the women who show them just how wrong they are!

  Find out who tames Nic in

  Capturing the CEO’s Guarded Heart

  And see the return of Jean-Louis in

  Falling for Her Secret Billionaire

  Available now!

  Then get ready for Raoul’s story

  Coming soon!

  Dear Reader,

  When I was young, I loved The Nun’s Story with Audrey Hepburn. I decided I wanted to study science and work in Africa, discover something phenomenal under a microscope. But my math skills were nonexistent, so I turned to something else. I know I created this story entitled Falling for Her Secret Billionaire because it’s about the woman I would have liked to become. She’s a wonderful person.

  Enjoy!

  Rebecca Winters

  Falling for Her Secret Billionaire

  Rebecca Winters

  Rebecca Winters lives in Salt Lake City, Utah. With canyons and high alpine meadows full of wildflowers, she never runs out of places to explore. They, plus her favorite vacation spots in Europe, often end up as backgrounds for her romance novels—because writing is her passion, along with her family and church. Rebecca loves to hear from readers. If you wish to email her, please visit her website at rebeccawinters.net.

  Books by Rebecca Winters

  Harlequin Romance

  Sons of a Parisian Dynasty

  Capturing the CEO’s Guarded Heart

  The Baldasseri Royals

  Reclaiming the Prince’s Heart

  Falling for the Baldasseri Prince

  Second Chance with His Princess

  Secrets of a Billionaire

  The Greek’s Secret Heir

  Unmasking the Secret Prince

  Escape to Provence

  Falling for Her French Tycoon

  Falling for His Unlikely Cinderella

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  I adored my doctor father, who made my life heavenly. He deserves every adulation. It’s for him I dedicate this novel.

  Praise for Rebecca Winters

  “This is the first book that I have read by this author but definitely not the last as it is an amazing story. I definitely recommend this book as it is so well written and definitely worth reading.”

  —Goodreads on How to Propose to a Princess

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  EXCERPT FROM CARIBBEAN CONTRACT WITH HER BOSS BY NINA SINGH

  CHAPTER ONE

  THANK HEAVEN FOR a day off from the hospital!

  This Friday morning, Françoise packed up some items in her apartment in Nice to ship to a storage unit in Paris. She didn’t want to have to take anything with her except a suitcase. In less than three weeks she’d be flying home to take the last of her medical boards. With luck she’d receive her doctorate.

  The last item to go in the box was her father’s black medical bag. He’d never had another one and it was her most prized possession. Sixty-one-year-old Patrick Valmy, who had died five months ago, had been a distinguished doctor. His fatal heart attack shouldn’t have happened. Her mother, an incredible nurse who’d worked with him, had died a year before from pneumonia. She missed both of them horribly.

  As she looked inside the bag one more time, it slipped from her hands and fell upside down on the floor. Out came the percussion hammer and stethoscope she’d played with as a child.

  Surprised, Françoise leaned over to pick up everything, including an old dark brown billfold. For some reason it had been lying in the bottom of the bag with everything on top of it. She’d never seen it before.

  Curious, she looked inside and discovered a faded document of some kind. When she pulled it out and opened it, the first thing to catch her eye was the print at the top of the paper.

  Groupe Français pour l’Adoption

  Adoption? She frowned. What was this paper doing in the bottom of her father’s bag? According to the information here, he’d delivered a baby. His patient’s? Or someone he’d helped in an emergency?

  Une enfant femelle. Née 10 Fevrier

  Docteur attitré: Patrick Valmy.

  Mere: inconnue

  Pere: inconnue

  Inconnue... Unknown.

  Françoise looked down at the signatures of the adopters.

  Patrick Valmy and Dionne Valmy

  What?

  Those were her parents’ signatures!

  They’d adopted this baby?

  Françoise had been their only baby because her mother couldn’t have more children. She’d gone through three miscarriages before Françoise’s birth. If they’d adopted this child and it had died, why hadn’t she known about it?

  Beneath their names was the year of the adoption. Twenty-eight years ago. She’d just celebrated her twenty-eighth birthday on February 10. Françoise did the math.

  No, it couldn’t be!

  She let out a gasp and fell back on the couch.

  Something was very wrong here. She read it over and over again.

  If this were to be believed, Françoise had been their adopted baby!

  She wouldn’t have cared about being adopted, but she couldn’t imagine them not telling her everything. They’d had her whole life to be honest with her. Why hadn’t they wanted her to know? Why the secrecy? Did they think that she would love them any less, or resent them if she’d learned the truth?

  The questions kept coming. Her mother had always said she wanted more children. Why hadn’t they adopted another child to give her a brother or sister? How had they kept her adoption a complete secret?

  Françoise’s great-aunt on her mother’s side lived in a rest home at Bouzy-la-Forêt southeast of Paris. Their family had driven the two hours to visit her there on many occasions. The older woman who suffered from emphysema had never breathed a word about the adoption. Had it been so secret, her mother’s own aunt hadn’t even known?

  There were no details of the baby’s weight, no names of the birth parents, no city or country named, no hospital, no official stamp with the name of a functionary. Nothing she could link to anything.

  Who were her birth parents? Were they still alive? If so, where were they?

  Until now, her parents had never hurt her. But this purposely withheld information caused her more pain than she’d known in the whole of her life.

  Devastated, she reached for her phone to call information and discovered there was no adoption agency with that name in Paris. She asked the operator to do a global search around France. Nothing came up!

  Shaken to her core, she looked up the number of a private investigator here in Nice and phoned for an appointment. She asked about their fee. Though she didn’t have much money, she would spend every last euro to get answers.

  At two that afternoon she entered the office of Lameaux & Briand. Guillaume Briand invited her in. She showed him what she’d found and told him that no adoption agency by that name existed anywhere. “Is this even an official document?”

  “I’ve never seen one like it, but the fact that it exists and has been hidden inside your father’s medical bag must be troubling for you until we can arrive at the truth. Where did your father get his medical degree?”

  “In Paris at the Sorbonne. Both my parents were Parisians, lived there and did their studies there.” She gave him a full history on the family of what she knew, or thought she knew.

  “That helps. So do the dates. You say you’re twenty-eight?”

  She struggled not to tear up in pain. “Yes. With the same birth date as on the document.”

  “Why did your parents move to Nice?”

  “They didn’t. Three years ago, he was invited by the French government to start a health program in Rabat for the Moroccan government. I was already a resident working on my medical degree in Paris. My parents got me enrolled at Sophia Antipolis University here in Nice so I could continue my residency and be closer to them. When I could, I visited them in Rabat and they came to me.”

  “I see.” He removed his glasses. “I’m going to do some investigating. Leave your number and address with the secretary and I’ll phone you the minute I have information.”

  “Thank you. I’m still shocked that my parents kept this
from me.” She prayed that during his search he’d discover a valid reason for what her parents had done without telling her.

  “I’ll do my best to get answers for you.”

  “Thank you.” She left his office so upset she didn’t know how she’d be able to function until the reason behind the adoption was uncovered.

  * * *

  The layout of Nice came into view as the military transport plane descended. Ten years out of the country hadn’t done anything to make this moment easier, but Jean-Louis Causcelle had been discharged from the army two weeks ago and forced to return to France for medical reasons. He’d been offered a medical discharge twelve months ago but had resisted until he had no strength left to refuse.

  The medic who’d done what he could to help him during the last horror in Mali couldn’t tell him what was wrong. It didn’t matter. Jean-Louis had been suffering with certain problems that couldn’t be diagnosed in a war zone. For the last two weeks he’d sensed he was dying of some hideous disease picked up in Western Africa. He could still walk, but his recent weight loss and attacks of sickness seemed to have robbed him of strength.

  There were hospitals throughout France where wounded vets could go to be treated. Since he couldn’t bring himself to return to his birthplace in eastern France, he opted to fly to Nice, the home of his war buddy Alain, who’d been killed in the Sahel two months ago. Once he’d paid his respects to his best friend’s family, he’d report to the vet hospital here in Nice, where he would learn how much longer he had before leaving this earth.

  Once the plane landed, he got in line while an official looked through everyone’s paperwork. Jean-Louis still wore his uniform, but it hung on him.

  “Le prochain? Capitaine Robert Martin?”

  “Ici.”

  Jean-Louis handed his papers to the man at the desk. Ten years ago he’d signed up for the army with a fake name. A friend had known a friend who’d helped him obtain a fake driver’s license and birth certificate. He’d shaved his head and grown a moustache so he wouldn’t be recognized in the photo as one of the famous billionaire Causcelle triplets.

  Joining the army had made it possible for Jean-Louis to disappear. The deception had worked well enough to get him enlisted. However, regulations forbade facial hair, so he’d been forced to shave off the moustache.

  The man stared at him for a long moment. “Now you have hair.”

  “My bald head made me a target. But it no longer matters.” Nothing mattered.

  “Soyez le bienvenu. Here is your stamped card. Show this to an official at any hospital for vets to get the treatment you need. Bonne chance.”

  Welcome home and good luck?

  Right.

  “Merci.”

  With his military career over, possibly his life, he walked out of the building on a Saturday morning in June carrying his duffel bag. He signaled for a taxi. “Darrieux Reparations Auto, 210 Rue Rossini, s’il vous plaît.”

  After climbing in, he sat back taking in the sights of a world he’d been away from for a decade. Yet it wasn’t a world familiar to him. Ages ago Jean-Louis had taught himself not to think about the place his soul hungered for. To do so tortured him beyond endurance.

  The driver took him along the Promenade des Anglais clustered with tourists toward his destination. The chatty man gave him a running commentary on great spots for soldiers, but Jean-Louis lost any concentration after they passed the glistening white Causcelle Prom Hotel. A nuclear bomb might as well have gone off inside him.

  He closed his eyes tightly, trying to shield himself against the invisible radiation from so many past memories. But it was too late. They penetrated to all his senses. The only reason he’d come back to France was to die.

  After a few turns, the taxi came to a stop. Jean-Louis opened his eyes in time to see the small shop front where Alain had helped his father before joining the army. Both guys had been about to turn twenty. Alain’s family had little money and had never traveled anywhere. He’d wanted to see the world and enjoy a different life. He’d sent part of his monthly pay to his father over the years, and the rest he’d invested for his family’s future.

  Jean-Louis, on the other hand, had only wanted to get away from the evil intrusion of the press and his widower father’s expectations. More than that, the military had offered him a solution to become anonymous and throw off his dreadful guilt over one family having such an insane amount of money.

  He and Alain met in boot camp and had served together until recently. Early death and unexpected illness hadn’t figured in their plans to become career officers. Now it was time to face Alain’s father and mother. Their son had worshipped them and his younger sister. That much Jean-Louis could share with their family, plus a few photos.

  He asked the driver to stay put because he’d be back out again in a few minutes. Leaving his duffel bag on the seat, he walked inside the small shop wishing like hell Alain were there with that great smile on his face.

  “Salut, soldat! What can I do to help you? Our service building is in back where the service writer will fix you up.”

  Jean-Louis turned to a man probably in his thirties. His nameplate said Michel. “I’m looking for the owner, Etienne Darrieux. Is he here?”

  “Yes, of course. Is he expecting you?”

  “No. I’d hoped to surprise him.”

  The man nodded. “That’s his office right there.” He pointed. “Just give him a heads-up.”

  “Merci bien.”

  He didn’t have to walk far. Alain’s light brown-haired father had just gotten off the phone and looked up when Jean-Louis tapped on the doorframe. “Monsieur Darrieux? We’ve never met, but I’m Robert Martin, a friend of—”

  He got no further because Etienne jumped out of his chair and came around to grasp Jean-Louis in a strong hug. “I know who you are...” He spoke with deep emotion. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

  The resemblance between father and son through coloring and facial features couldn’t be denied, but it was their natural warmth that got to Jean-Louis. Meeting Etienne explained a lot. He saw framed photos of Alain on the desk.

  “Please—sit down.”

  “I can only stay a minute. I’m due to check in at Mercy Hospital here for a full medical examination, and my taxi is waiting. But I wanted to come by first and tell you how sorry I am about Alain. He thought the world of his family. No one ever had a better friend.”

  Etienne’s brown eyes filled with tears. Jean-Louis struggled to fight his own. “He wrote about you so much, Robert, I feel like you’re part of our family.”

  “I know the feeling, and I have some pictures of your son I’m sure you’ll enjoy.” He reached in his pocket for a dozen little photos. There was much more he needed to do for Etienne if death didn’t take him first.

  The older man wept as he looked at them before his head lifted. “You have to come back for dinner this evening. The family will want to meet you and talk to you.”

  “Thank you, but I won’t be able to. I’ve been discharged from the army because I’m ill. It all depends on what the doctors tell me. It could take a while.” But he doubted he’d see Etienne again. “I’ll phone you.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that promise.”

  Jean-Louis left the shop. He asked the taxi driver to drive him to Mercy Hospital, where he got out at the emergency entrance with his duffel bag. Once inside, the staff processed him and took him to an examination room.

  Up front the doctor on his case told him he’d have to stay at the hospital for tests for at least a week. That long? Jean-Louis figured he’d be dead in less time. He felt so exhausted and breathless, they moved him to a private room immediately.

  Incredible but true, when the seventh day arrived after endless blood tests, X-rays and cardiograms, he realized he was still alive. “What’s the verdict, Dr. Marouche? How long do I have?”

  “When you came in, you said you believed you were dying, but you’re not! Our epidemiologist has discovered your problem and will be in shortly to discuss it with you.”

  His response angered Jean-Louis. The way he felt, he couldn’t imagine living any longer. “I can take bad news, and I’m not here to play word games. You don’t need to pretend with me.”