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

quayside. I followed what Andrea and the guys had done when we passed the security gate and waved like I knew where I was going. They weren’t concerned about pedestrians since all the jetties where the mega yachts were had coded gates. Oh shit. I couldn’t remember which one it was. The third or fourth jetty? Or was it the fifth one?

Now, if only I could go back and erase the last twenty minutes. I’d known my life would change before I’d gone up the stairs to him at the nightclub, but I hadn’t been prepared for this. For him. To discover that he was struggling with his attraction to me as much as I was to him. My brain could barely compute. And I hadn’t been prepared for the way I’d fallen apart for him, leaving me feeling like roadkill. I said a prayer that it had been far too dark for anyone to have gotten a clear photo or video. My heart climbed up my throat with nerves and shame.

“Josie.” Evan’s voice, amplified by the concrete and water reached me right as I was starting to sweat with panic. “You okay?” he asked as I reached the gate where he stood. He opened it before I had to try and remember the code.

“Fine,” I said.

“I thought you guys would stay out for a while, have a chance to—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“He’s a good guy—”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it. And I don’t feel good. Dizzy or something. Maybe I still have that mally-thing.”

“Mal de démbarquement?”

“That. Tell him I’ve gone to bed. Tell him … goodbye. How early can we leave in the morning?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I know about him asking Tabitha about canceling my contract, okay? I have to resign. I can’t work for him.” I couldn’t work for him when I felt the way I did. Especially not now. Not after what happened. “I can’t.”

“Josie. Don’t do this to him.”

“To him? What about me? I don’t know what to do here. I didn’t sign up for this.” My hysteria grew. “I can’t have an affair with my boss,” I hissed with a squeak.

“Okay. So you resign. But you don’t leave.”

“Evan. God. Listen to what you’re saying. This … this is too much for me. Is that why he kept me around and didn’t fire me because he was hoping he and I could have a thing?” I cringed as the words came out.

“Fuck, no. Xavier would rather die. Jesus. You have to talk to him. It’s not my place. Just please don’t leave before you’ve talked to him.”

I knew I’d told him I wanted to talk to him, but my mind was a mess, and I felt crushingly embarrassed by what had just happened. Weak. In danger. Like I’d throw away everything I was if I stayed. I’d become his concubine. His concubine that looked after his daughter. An unpaid escort as well as a child minder. And I’d do it willingly just to feel that all again, this time with him inside me.

No. No. No. And no.

Evan cleared his throat, the look on my face clearly unsettling him.

“Please, Evan. Just promise me that if I do decide to leave, you’ll drive me.”

He let out a long breath. “Okay.”

I nodded and turned to the gangplank.

“Josie?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been a wonderful addition to Dauphine’s life. And a pleasure to have on the boat. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

I blinked and blew out a wobbly breath, suddenly swamped with emotion. “Me too.”

“But I’m not saying goodbye to him for you. You need to do that yourself.”

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