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

I gently guided Dauphine toward the door. “We’ll be upstairs if you need us.”

In the cool breeze and bright morning sun of the top deck, I cued up the yoga video. I inhaled deeply and exhaled per instructions, trying to expel any negativity inside me. I cracked an eye. Beside me, Dauphine was cross-legged, finger and thumb of each hand touching, and eyes closed. I loved how seriously she was taking our yoga.

Closing my eyes again, I tried to drown out the Jet Ski and a small nearby motor as well as all the feelings of guilt that I hadn’t called my mother in days to see how she was. The uncomfortable feeling inside about my work, and how I hadn’t heard anything back from sending out my resume yet, pressed against me. I didn’t want to face the fact I’d quit when I could have just hung on a bit longer at Donovan & Tate while looking for another position. I’d been hasty. And now I was sitting on the other side of the world. It was gorgeous, but it was a fantasyland. In more ways than one. But … gratitude, I reminded myself. The female yoga instructor told me to let any thoughts blow away like clouds, and I tried. I really tried. But there was a stubborn ice-eyed one that was hard to dislodge. Then we started into the first set of poses.

We had to pass on some because there was no way to balance while the boat rocked even gently. I mean Warriors One and Two, sure. Tree pose? Forget about it. Eventually we ended back in Downward Dog for a final set of Vinyasas. I tipped my butt up, trying to get as much into the stretch as I could one last time. I opened my eyes and was staring vacantly through my ankles when a set of familiar white-soled boat shoes and strong male ankles stepped into view from the stairwell.

There was a strangled sound from the man in question, and then Dauphine’s excited gasp next to me.

“Papa!” Dauphine almost tripped in her haste to extricate herself from her pose and get herself into her father’s arms as fast as possible.

“Oof,” he sounded.

I got to my feet awkwardly, light-headed from being upside down. I’d just displayed my butt in skin-tight leggings straight at my employer. “Hi,” I managed, face throbbing.

He nodded, looking everywhere but at me. “Bonjour. I’m sorry to have been gone so long.”

“It was fine. Dauphine and I are doing a yoga class.”

He cleared his throat. “I see. Which I interrupted. Apologies.”

Dauphine stripped off her t-shirt down to her bikini and stepped into the plunge pool. “It is so fun, Papa.”

“We were almost done,” I said. “Uh, I didn’t know you’d be back. I thought we were meeting you at lunch.”

“Josie, are you coming in the water?” Dauphine asked me, not waiting for her father to answer my question. I’d promised her we’d get in the plunge pool after our class to cool off.

There was no way I was stripping down to my bikini in front of my boss. But I also didn’t want to break my promise.

“Papa, you should do yoga with us in the mornings. And you must come in the pool, yes?”

Oh God, no. Get in that tiny plunge pool with my hot boss? I didn’t think so.

“Non, mon chou. I have to go and discuss plans with Paco. But I will be up again in about twenty minutes. Ok?”

She stuck out her bottom lip but nodded.

A twenty-minute warning to not be in front of him with my butt in his face when he came back up. Embarrassment crawled through me.

After a cool off in the pool, Dauphine flew downstairs to get changed, and I followed at a more leisurely pace. I was passing the open master cabin when I heard Evan and Mr. P talking inside. They were talking in low voices. And I was sure I’d heard my name. I couldn’t help slowing my pace. In fact, after a moment, I realized I’d stopped completely and was straining my ears. I thought I heard Monsieur Pascale say something was impossible and a word that sounded like “coo,” to which Evan chuckled and said something in a teasing tone. I frowned as I tried to make sense of it with my limited French. I shook it off and reprimanded myself for being nosy. Just in time, I realized, because when I rounded the corner to head down the next set of stairs to deck two, I heard the master cabin door close as if they’d just realized it was left open. Whoever had closed it would have seen me listening.

Chapter Twenty

XAVIER

After interrupting yoga on the top deck, I stumbled back down the stairs, my normally reliant, powerful legs untrustworthy.

“Whoa. You okay?” Evan asked, just leaving the bridge.

“Fine.” I ran a hand over my stubbled chin. “I need to talk to Paco about the lunch plans.”

“Already taken care of.”

“Good,” I said distractedly and headed down the next half stairwell toward my office bedroom, this time clutching the handrail. “Hey. Please ask Andrea to move me back in here, I don’t think I need to be downstairs anymore.” God knew I couldn’t sleep one more night across the hall from the hot nanny. If I heard her get up and go to the top deck again, I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t follow.

“All right,” Evan responded as he followed me into the stateroom. “As soon as you tell me what just happened on the top deck. You look a little shaken.”

I walked to the windows and stuck my hands in my pockets. “They were doing yoga.”

“And?” Evan asked.

I turned and shot him a look, the vision of Josephine Marin’s round, delectable ass pressed backward, covered in skintight pink, seared into my brain. “And her ass—” I broke off.

Evan’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Do go on.”

I scowled.

Evan made an inpatient continue gesture with his hand. “And her