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

“Cul.”

I laughed. “Meredith was right.”

“Meredith?”

“My best friend back home. I heard you talking to Evan, and she said you were talking about my ass.”

He chuckled out a breath and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Nobody can keep a secret on a boat.”

“So you were?”

“Talking about your ass?” He winked, and his hand slipped down behind me and grabbed a handful, bringing me hard against his body.

I squeaked.

“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”

Oh yes. This playful Xavier was a really nice surprise. “I’d rather not have my anatomy discussed by the boys in the locker room.” I feigned annoyance, even while the heat of his hand burned through me.

He laughed, teeth gleaming and eyes crinkling, making my heart rate triple.

“D’accord. I’ll only discuss your ass with you.” He leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss on my lips.

My hand left the railing, and I clutched the lapels of his shirt. The boat dipped again, and my stomach whooshed. It broke the kiss.

He scowled, looking out to sea. “It’s getting rough. Do you get seasick?”

“I haven’t before today. But then again, I don’t really like boats, so I have little experience to know if I will.” I shrugged and brushed a strand of hair that suddenly blew across my face. The wind had picked up.

“You like my boat.”

I lifted a shoulder. “It’s okay.”

His eyes narrowed.

“But I like you,” I added. “And Dauphine. And everyone who works for you. Well, I guess you’re right. I like your boat. Anyway, you better go and get that work done before I climb you like the jungle gym at my favorite playground.” I reluctantly let go of his shirt and smoothed it out.

He frowned, a smirk playing around his mouth. “Jungle gym? Is that some American thing? It sounds kinky.”

I laughed, loving that he could actually joke with me after the rather gruff demeanor he’d worn since I arrived.

“All right.” He stepped away, his palms up. “I’m going. I have to rearrange all the meetings I blew off to stay in Corsica for two nights. The water is getting very rough. If you feel sick, ask Chef for ginger tea. Look out at the horizon. Or come find me.”

“I will.” I nodded, processing what he’d just said. He may have needed to go to Corsica tomorrow, but his decision to stay an extra night was made with me in mind.

I dug my teeth into my bottom lip to fight the grin.

As soon as he ducked inside I turned and dragged in a lungful of sea air. I replayed the last hour, and with it giddy anticipation swirled. Two nights. My skin prickled with lust. I pressed my thighs together to quench the deep ache that had settled between them. I knew what this was. A two-day affair. That was it. I had no doubt it would be highly sexed and searingly hot. I just hoped my heart could handle it when he turned it off after time was up. Would I be able to do the same? And then what? Should I go home? Or did I take up his mother’s offer to stay on a few weeks with her? That seemed far more of an intimate prospect now than it had before everything had changed between me and her son. I chewed my lip. I should call Meredith for advice. But somehow I didn’t want to. Telling someone, even Meredith, that I was planning to have a two-day affair with my ex-boss on his yacht made it feel … sordid somehow. And of course, there was Tabitha. I didn’t know what this situation fell into. Technically, I was no longer his employee. But it was still Tabitha’s reputation that could be affected if people knew about us. They wouldn’t care about the technicalities. They would still only see that Xavier Pascale boned his daughter’s nanny.

Land was a distant blur and around us was nothing but wide-open ocean. A shiver rippled through me. Now that Xavier wasn’t out here distracting me, and we were farthest from land than we’d ever been, the reasons for my dislike of boats came back strong. My stomach lurched queasily.

I left the railing and made my way inside to find some ginger tea.

In the galley, Chef was wedged into the banquette reading a newspaper spread across the table.

“I think I’m getting seasick. I held the edge of the table. Do you have some ginger tea I can make?”

“We have sachets, but best bet is I make you some fresh. Also, we have anti-nausea meds if it gets bad, and,” he pulled himself out of the booth and grabbed a basket from a small bottom shelf, “we also have these. Acupressure cuffs. They actually work great.” He held up a package of rubber bracelets in light blue.

“Really?” I asked skeptically.

“Really.” He tossed them to me. “They press on the Nei Kuan acupressure point on the inner wrist. My ex-wife swears by them. And she’s right about most things.”

I felt an odd smile cross my face.

He waved a hand. “Yep. I’m the sad sack who’s still in love with his ex-wife. Sue me. Anyway, I’d go for ginger tea and a bracelet over the anti-nausea meds because the meds will knock you right out. And from what I understand you have … a date, tonight?” He gave me a look with an eyebrow raised.

“Can’t keep a secret on a boat,” I mumbled. Clearly word had spread fast. Thanks, Andrea. “Is it weird? I mean is everyone okay with this … development?” What did I call it? A two-day booty call with their boss?

“It shouldn’t matter to you what we think.” He rummaged around in the vegetable basket, pulling out some ginger.

I lifted a shoulder. “But—”

“We’re happy for him. Trust me. Just … be careful.”

“Careful?” It was sweet of Chef to worry about me getting hurt. The boat leaned and my stomach complained. I pulled a bracelet off the