Broken French: A widowed, billionaire, single dad romance Natasha Boyd (i read books .TXT) 📖

swayed sideways and bumped up against my boss’ leg. I tried to shift, but it was no use if I needed to feel anchored in my spot. I tried to ignore the sensation as it happened again. I stared at the horizon and the approaching yacht. Our tender slowed. But all my attention was drilled down to the one spot where my skin brushed against his. I must have sunstroke. There was no other explanation for why I couldn’t shut my stupid brain off from overthinking and my body from over feeling everything.

And then we were at the yacht, and Xavier moved forward to help Evan, and then helped his daughter out.

Below deck, a quick look over my shoulder in my bathroom mirror confirmed the streaks of sunburn. I showered, moisturized, sprayed some aloe awkwardly over my shoulders, hoping I got it in the right place. Then I put on a loose-fitting t-shirt, drank a whole bottle of water, and lay down for a few minutes.

When I awoke, it was dark. Moonlight streaked in, creating a faint colorless glow. My cabin door was closed. I sat bolt upright, utterly disoriented. I fumbled for my phone and saw the time was just after midnight. I’d missed dinner.

I padded to the bathroom, holding on as the boat rocked gently. Then I went to my open door, debating if I was going to go take a breather up on the top deck. I hadn’t woken with a racing heart I suddenly realized. And I didn’t feel hungry, so I wondered what else had woken me. Just then I heard a whimper. Then Dauphine talking. I poked my head out of the cabin. I waited in the silence to hear her again. There was another louder cry and then something unintelligible. She was having a nightmare.

Across the hall Xavier Pascale’s room sat dark and silent, like he wasn’t there. Then I remembered he’d moved back upstairs.

Dauphine’s scream pierced the silence, making me jump.

I hurried into her room. “Shhh,” I crooned, seeing her whip her head from side to side. I climbed on to the bed, and she sat up with another cry. My arms went around her and she tried to struggle.

“Dauphine, shhh. It’s me. It’s Josie. You’re okay. You’re safe. Shhh.”

“Josie?”

“Yes, my love.”

She collapsed back on the bed.

“What were you dreaming about?”

“Maman,” she whispered. Her shoulders shook, and she curled onto her side.

I brushed her hair from her temple. It was damp.

“Mon chou.” Xavier was a dark figure in the doorway.

“Papa.”

He came around the other side and climbed onto the bed. He was shirtless with just a pair of athletic shorts.

I should leave them together, but I was struck motionless at the sight of him. Jerking out of the stupor, I shifted to move.

“Non.” Dauphine reached out and grabbed my hand. “Reste ave moi,” she murmured.

“Your father’s here now—”

“S’il te plaît. Please.” She took a wobbling breath. “Please, you both stay?”

Over her head, Xavier Pascale watched me, his eyes almost black in the darkness. I couldn’t tell if he was appalled by his daughter’s plea. But if she needed me, just for a bit, I didn’t want to make a scene simply because being near her father sent my body chemistry into chaos.

I nodded and shifted down so I could lie down and face Dauphine. I smelled her coconut shampoo and beyond that the faded smell of Xavier’s woodsy cologne, musky male, and warm, sleepy skin. I mashed my lips between my teeth.

Dauphine grabbed her father’s arm and wrapped it around her middle and then turned toward me, curling into a ball and nestling her chin under mine.

Stiff and tense with the stark, familial intimacy of the moment, I screwed my eyes shut so I didn’t have to face her father less than a foot away from me on the pillows. Her movement had pulled him closer. His hand and wrist were millimeters from my belly. I struggled to think what I could do with my arms. Naturally, one would drape one over her small body, but his arm was there. I settled for resting mine awkwardly along my side.

Xavier’s fingers must be stroking her arm or something because I could sense the small and gentle rhythmic movements.

Dauphine’s shuddering breaths calmed and deepened, and her body relaxed.

I opened my eyes slowly, looking at the top of her head and wondering how long it would take for her to get into a deep sleep so I could slip out.

I couldn’t help my gaze moving up to where I knew Xavier lay.

Dark eyes studied me. I saw gratitude warring with conflict.

Keeping my breathing as steady as I could, I held his gaze. Long moments passed. The longest I’d allowed myself to really look at him, I realized. Certainly the longest we’d locked gazes. I surrendered to the experience, as if he was a decadent chocolate mousse after I’d been on a years-long diet. It felt rich, intoxicating, and really, really bad for me. The tension grew, but underneath was an intimacy that felt deeper somehow, perhaps due to the sleeping child resting between us, but also underscoring the fact that Dauphine was the most important element here. And somehow it also came with the message that anything or anyone that might threaten her, Xavier Pascale wouldn’t hesitate to cut out, cleanly and without hesitation.

His eyes began a slow roam over my face.

He didn’t have to say anything for me to understand just a fraction of how weird this situation must be.

It was too intimate.

It was too much like a family.

It was so intensely personal.

Strange things were happening inside my chest, and making me want to reach out and brush his dark hair from his temples.

Things that made me want to place a kiss in his daughter’s hair as if she was mine.

Ours.

For an inkling I understood the pure connectedness, fierce protectiveness, and familial love a mother must feel when she shelters her child with her mate.

His gaze returned to mine. And then suddenly the heat