Broken French: A widowed, billionaire, single dad romance Natasha Boyd (i read books .TXT) đź“–
- Author: Natasha Boyd
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“Papa? What are you doing?” Dauphine appeared at the edge of the door. My hand dropped from her mother’s dress. Her eyes tracked to my hand.
“Mon ange,” I began and cleared my throat. “I was thinking perhaps I would move maman’s things. Would that be okay with you?”
She chewed her bottom lip, her blue eyes big. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “Where will we put them?”
“I don’t know yet. But there are many people who don’t have such fine things and maybe we could give—”
She shook her head vigorously, her eyes filling. “Non,” she whispered.
“Come here,” I said gently, and she fell face first into my belly. “Shh. It’s okay. Tell me, what are you thinking?”
Sniffing, she pulled away, leaving a trail of tears on yet another of my shirts. “What if maman sees us take her things away and thinks we don’t love her anymore?”
“Oh, mon chou.” My chest grew tight. “No. Maman cannot see from where she is.”
“In heaven?”
“Of course, in heaven. In heaven she only sees and feels with her heart, and her heart knows you will always, always love her.” I had no idea where that pearl of wisdom had dropped from, but it seemed to have a calming effect on Dauphine.
“Truly?”
I swallowed. “Truly.”
We hugged again.
“Is there anything you would like me to keep for you?”
Dauphine looked down the row and the shelves, then she walked to a drawer and opened it. “Maybe some of her jewelry?”
“Of course. I will keep it all for you. I have some at home in Valbonne in the safe too. It will all be yours when you are older.”
She slid the drawer shut. “Okay.” She gave one last sniff, wiped her cheek, and then checked her hair. “Oh, do you like my braid? Josie did it. Do you know in America they call it a French braid?” She giggled, our previous conversation seemingly forgotten. “Isn’t that so silly?”
With a bemused shake of my head, I fingered my daughter’s silky hair that had been expertly tamed. “It’s lovely. You look very pretty. Now go and find Evan, he’ll be wanting to leave to see Grand-père soon.”
She gave a little wave and pirouetted out of the room, her worries about Arriette’s things in the past.
Sucking in a deep breath, I gave one last look at the closet and contemplated changing my shirt again, but then sighed and left the bathroom. I stepped out of the stateroom right as Josie came up the stairs.
“Oh, sorry,” she said, stepping aside. She’d changed into a pale green swim cover-up over the jade bikini she’d bought at the market, and all I could see was her clothing matched the color of her eyes. Did she seriously get more beautiful every time I saw her? She dropped her gaze immediately, and I realized I must have been glaring at her.
I waved a hand. “After you.”
She turned, presenting me with a smooth tanned back and that wavy hair I’d like to wrap my hands in. Maybe while I bent her over and—
She whipped around to me. “Are you … did I do something wrong?”
“No,” I answered quickly, guilt at my dirty thoughts clogging my throat. “Let’s just go.”
Her eyes, so vibrantly green with the outfit she wore, narrowed. “Are you sure?”
“Oui.”
“I don’t know why, but I don’t believe you.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“But whatever,” she said with a determined set to her lips. “I’m good at this. I’m good at being with Dauphine. You seem disapproving of me the last week. I haven’t done anything wrong, and it bothers me when I think you might think I have.”
“D’accord,” I said.
“Okay?”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “You have done nothing wrong.” Except climb under my skin. “Also … can you try to be more … invisible … today at lunch?” My father would be there after all.
Her eyes popped wide. “Excuse me?” Her tone took a sudden turn toward offended.
Fuck. I was an idiot. I waved my hand up and down. “You are …” I swallowed. I couldn’t say beautiful, she’d see straight through me and realize my blundering crush. Or worse, think I was a sleazeball hitting on her. “I don’t want … um.” Oh, good God. Was I this rusty?
“Am I not dressed properly?” She suddenly fussed, her cheeks flooding with pink, and her eyes unsure. “I was told I could wear a swimsuit.”
Fuck. Remorse filled me.
“No. You look fine.” Fine? She was fucking gorgeous. Unthinkingly, my hand went to her bare arm and squeezed gently for a millisecond before dropping it like it burned. “Let’s go,” I snapped. “We’re late.” I brushed clumsily past her rather than stay cooped up in that small space, mainlining her coconut scent and accidentally and perpetually insulting her.
But God, I was a beast around her.
Uncouth.
Erratic.
Horny.
Let’s just hope she was invisible to my father. And moreover, that he couldn’t tell how tightly wound I was around her.
After a moment I heard her follow me, and we made our way to the back deck. Dauphine began chattering immediately and held her braid up while Josie rubbed sunscreen on my daughter’s neck, back, and shoulders. Then Dauphine returned the favor, and I knew Josie might end up burned later, but there was no way I could offer to put my hands on her skin. I encouraged Dauphine to do a more thorough job, then when it was done we all climbed in the tender for the short ride to the beach.
I’d hardly seen my father over the last couple of years. As a child, he’d been almost mythical in status to me. He’d put in long work hours, and I had assumed our family money was due to his work. It was years before I discovered our wealth had been
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