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

kids are grown of course. But I’m generous. We don’t have to call it nanny. We can call it whatever you like.”

I looked him right in the eyes and held his stare in a defiant challenge and utter disgust. I mean, seriously, what the fuck was happening right now? All I knew was I shouldn’t show fear. That suddenly became imperative. I thought I might wait for Dauphine in the main room by the fireplace and not this small private hallway.

I moved.

His hand darted out, stopping me by my shoulder. “You weren’t going to say goodbye?”

I fixed him with a blank stare. “I didn’t realize there was anything good about it.”

Surprise flashed in his eyes, and his face transformed from congenial to mean in milliseconds. “Quite a little icy bitch, aren’t you?” he hissed. “Do you warm up for the little nerd out there?”

The bathroom door unlocked, and he dropped his hand, his face and demeanor melting into a harmless smile.

Dauphine stepped out, pressing immediately to my side. Kids picked up on way more than adults ever did. And this guy was a threat. And not just to me. Protectiveness surged through me. For Dauphine. For her father.

Putting my arm around Dauphine’s shoulder, I pulled her with me as I pushed past him.

He stopped me again, this time slapping a card to my chest. The shock of his hand there caused me to stop, and I fumbled and grabbed it.

“My number. I’ll be waiting for your call.” He winked and strode away, beating us to the door

“Ugh,” I said.

“I don’t like him,” said Dauphine.

“Me neither.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dauphine spent almost an hour swimming and making sandcastles before she jumped up and ran to her father strolling barefoot along the small waves lapping at the water’s edge. I’d texted the number he gave me, telling him to turn left and walk about fifty yards. He wore his dark sunglasses and held his shoes with one hand. He kissed his daughter’s head then stepped closer and looked down at our creation.

I shaded my eyes to look up at him.

The edges of his mouth tipped up into a smile.

“You don’t look like you’re leaving soon,” he said.

I followed his gaze to where I was buried to my waist. Dauphine had begun by making me an armchair dug into the sand. Then it had become a “mermaid throne.” And now I had a whole mer-village with mounds and walls built around me and over my legs. I had a stinky piece of seaweed draped across my head. My crown.

“It appears so.” I raised my eyebrows. I didn’t add that I also had sand in unmentionable places.

Xavier’s lips seemed to struggle before he let them go into a full-blown grin, revealing his gorgeous straight teeth and a devil’s dimple. I couldn’t help smiling back. I knew I looked utterly ridiculous.

“She is the mermaid goddess,” Dauphine said with a happy sigh, drawing our attention. “She rules over this whole kingdom.”

“Does she now?” he humored his daughter. He looked back at me. “You should have rented some beach chairs and an umbrella to get out of the sun,” he said, then frowned. “I apologize. I didn’t think of that. Also that my meeting ran long.” He pulled his wallet out and flagged down a beach attendant who was jogging past with an ice bucket. “Where’s your stuff?”

I pointed over my shoulder behind us and he went to pick my beach bag up.

“It’s fine—”

“Dauphine.” He spoke over my head. “Swim with me and let the mermaid goddess rest in the shade?”

She dropped the handful of wet sand and went shrieking into the water.

“Hey,” I called. “A little help here?” I struggled to get loose in the sand, and when it was clear Dauphine hadn’t heard or simply ignored my plea, her father was suddenly crouching next to me and digging the sand from around my legs. God. He was far too close. His hand brushed sand and then skin as he dug me out. He froze for a moment, then took a breath and continued.

I quickly took over and brushed enough off that I could finally wiggle free.

He stood and gave me his hand. And in moments Dauphine’s kingdom was destroyed as I was pulled upright.

“Here.” He dropped my hand and went around and brushed sand from my back before abruptly stopping and stepping back, thinking better of it.

“Thank you,” I said and hurried past him into the water. “I need to wash off.”

As soon as we had a place to sit, he gave me his wallet to put in the beach bag and draped his linen shirt over the chair next to me. I traded his wallet for a towel I handed him for the second chair. He laid it out and then perched on the edge and applied the sunscreen I handed him to his face and shoulders.

From behind my sunglasses I feasted on watching him. His hair was unruly where he’d obviously dragged a hand through several times over. Maybe when he’d run out of coasters. Somehow, I’d never taken him for a nervous person. It didn’t jive with his business reputation. And I found seeing the vulnerable side of him did strange things in my belly. I sighed softly.

It didn’t escape me that the three of us on the beach looked a lot like a family. And how much I liked it. Really, really, liked it.

“Thank you for lunch,” I managed in a strangled voice to fill the silence. I looked around, desperate to look at anything rather than at him, and noticed the beach had emptied out somewhat. Dauphine tried to do a handstand in the water and tumbled sideways.

He cleared his throat, and I braced myself for him to ask me to put sunscreen on his back. My hands itched. I might die or accidentally moan out loud if I got to run my hands over that body. He didn’t ask, just tossed the cream back in the bag.

“You’re welcome. I hope it