Broken French: A widowed, billionaire, single dad romance, Natasha Boyd [e reader books .TXT] 📗

of what this is. Let’s …” Her voice wobbled. “Let’s just enjoy one more day and not think about after tomorrow.” She pulled her hand away slowly and I let her.

I still couldn’t speak, paralyzed as I was. Inside me, the words rose. I want more. But I left them unsaid, not believing them, and unable to drag them through the turmoil even if I did.

Josie pasted a smile on her face, her eyes bright with determination. “You mentioned caves and grottos. And private beaches tucked away in the cliffs?”

“La Revellata.”

“Perhaps we could take the boat there this afternoon?” She stood and came around to me. “I need to run to the restroom, but,” she leaned down, her lips close to my ear, “I have a fantasy of you fucking me in the ocean that I’d like to take home with me. Let’s do that instead of talk.” Her mouth slipped down to the side of my neck and her lips pressed against my skin, lighting it on fire. Then she stood and hurried inside, her summer dress floating around her curves, her hair cascading down her back.

I grabbed my wine glass and downed the contents, signaling for the check.

Chapter Forty

JOSIE

I’d thought the water was beautiful off the coast of Southern France, but here, off the coast of a rocky island in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea, it was almost fake. I leaned over the prow of the boat as the anchor plunged down through the water, searching for a bottom that looked closer than it apparently was. When it finally hit the depths and stopped, I couldn’t see the bottom. Yet I could see the mottled blues of rocks and sand through crystal clear water.

Xavier had put some music on, and the smooth and clubby beat bounced through the speakers suddenly making me feel as if I was in a music video. Or a dream. The singer sang sexily in a reggae sounding beat. Something about needing to let go, but also about never going back. I inhaled and closed my eyes, a smile on my face even while my heart thumped heavily. I never thought I’d ever have an experience as all sensually encompassing as this—the place, the situation, the man, the emotions. No matter that our time together would end tomorrow and my heart would splinter to leave Xavier and Dauphine and the crew, I was still suffused with the joy of the experience.

“What are you thinking about?” came Xavier’s rough voice behind me.

I inhaled through my nose. “I was wondering who this artist was singing?” I lied.

“Dennis Lloyd. He’s from Israel. Tel-Aviv.”

Strong arms came around either side of me, and Xavier’s warm body pressed against my back. “Mmm. I like it,” I said, only half talking about the music. “So was Paco mad that you wanted to take the boat around here?”

“Non.” His lips settled against my bare shoulder, nudging the strap of my summer dress off. Prickles of lust raced over my skin.

I tilted my head back and my gaze dragged up the cliffs to the sea birds wheeling. The boat hardly swayed, the waves were so gentle lapping at the rocks it was hard to believe they could be so scored and sheared. One would expect violent, crashing white sprays battering them up endlessly. There were no other boats around to indicate any other swimmers or divers. A glimpse of white sand between a gash in two towering cliffs could be seen every few minutes over the gentle swells of water.

“Are we swimming to that beach?” I asked, pointing and then letting my other hand scrape through his thick soft hair next to my cheek.

“We can take the tender.”

I pressed back, giving myself space from the railing, and he stepped back. Grasping the bottom of my sundress, I pulled it up over my head and off and dropped it on the deck until I stood in my bikini. Then I climbed over the silver rail. “I’ll race you,” I said to him with a glance over my shoulder.

He was watching, eyes dark, a thumb running over his bottom lip.

I grinned, and then lifted my arms either side of me and dove.

It was graceful, a talent developed in the summers during high school. The water rushed toward me and then my hands and my head and my whole body streaked into the cool.

I was arching back up to the surface when I heard the plunge into the water next to me. My eyes opened into the sting for a brief second to see the white streak of bubbles as Xavier shot downward past me.

Surfacing, I began a fast freestyle toward the beach.

In a moment, he was alongside me and then pulling ahead, his mouth split into a wide grin. It was no use, his strength and speed were no match. I did my best, but soon I lapsed to breaststroke as I approached where he stood waist deep, water running down his finely cut upper body. He flicked his hair and then combed his fingers through it.

We stared at each other stupidly. My cheeks hurt from grinning. When I was close enough, his hand reached out. I took it and he hauled me to my feet. My toe scraped on something hard and I hissed. It was still about thirty feet to the small beach. I let my feet touch down onto the submerged rock he was standing on.

“You okay?” he asked, an arm closing around my waist and locking me against his body.

“Fine,” I said, watching a bead of salt water trickle to the edge of his top lip.

“It looked like you got hurt.”

“My foot. But your body is a good painkiller.” I licked my lips and winked.

He chuckled. Water swelled around us, and he adjusted our stance to keep our balance on the rock.

His erection pressed against my bare belly, and my stomach melted.

Then his lips, salty and cool, were on mine and his tongue, hot and sweet, licked into me.

I