Broken French by Natasha Boyd

Author:Natasha Boyd [Boyd, Tasha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781732238596
Publisher: Natasha Boyd, LLC

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Downstairs I checked on a sleeping Dauphine, taking a moment to press my lips to her hair. Then I went to my cabin and flung my tiny cross body purse that held my phone and money on the bed. Our shopping bags from earlier were placed neatly by the door. I emptied them and carefully packed the little trinkets among my clothes in my suitcase. I had a quick shower, threw on a long t-shirt, and packed the gold dress. Then I unpacked it again and hung it in the closet. It would always remind me of him, and I couldn’t fathom ever wearing it back home. Some things just didn’t travel well. Summer flings and little gold clubbing dresses among them. Maybe Andrea would wear it.

I stood still, shifting from foot to foot. Was he back on the boat? He’d moved back up to the master stateroom, so I didn’t have to worry about him sleeping in the cabin opposite me. I checked my email, but there was nothing from Tabitha. And no more texts from Meredith. I debated calling her. Especially if I was going to start traveling back tomorrow, but I couldn’t face talking about it. I didn’t know how to articulate everything that had happened and the things I was feeling. The sound of my name, the way he’d whispered it, was on a loop in my brain, making me feel weak. “Joséphine.”

I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and climbed under the duvet, and flicked off the light. Light streamed in from the busy port, and the boat was mostly still.

Closing my eyes, I was immediately back in the darkness of the club and the intensity of his gaze, watching me as I fell apart. The memory of the feeling as I couldn’t catch myself falling over the edge had me losing my breath again. Arousal swam through me, squeezing my insides. I cringed. The memory was almost as intense as the reality. I curled to my side and bit my fist.

“Joséphine.”

He hadn’t meant for us to go that far, I knew. Not in public. Maybe not ever. I couldn’t be angry. He was right that we should have both been terrified of our physical attraction. It was the kind of connection that could burn the world down around us. And he couldn’t afford for that to happen. Not with a daughter to take care of.

I couldn’t either.

I heard when he got back. The low voices of him and Evan. I imagined Evan relaying my message, and I wondered about Xavier’s reaction. Would he be disappointed? Angry?

Without thinking I slipped silently from my bed to the door. And for the first night since I’d arrived, I released the catch that held it open and quietly swung it closed.

The latch clicked loudly in the silence, and I laid my palms and forehead on the back of the door, breathing slowly, and counted to ten.

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