Broken French: A widowed, billionaire, single dad romance

by Natasha Boyd

  “And water and a snack,” I prompted. “It could be late. She could be hungry.”

  He nodded.

  “Wait, there’s also some sketch paper in there. If there’s any waiting around. She might be bored.”

  He reached back in and drew out the paper and an old receipt or something that he stared hard at.

  “Okay, well.” I wrung my hands. This was agony. I wanted to go with him and be there when he got her back. And he would. He had to. I wanted to hug Dauphine so tight against my heart when he did. But I had to step back and let him do this himself. It was the only way he knew. “Please tell her I love her when you get her back.”

  He looked up at me, the small square of paper still in his hand. “Were you part of it?”

  I looked at him, confused. “What?”

  “I asked, were you a part of it?”

  “Of what?”

  “Taking her.”

  The words detonated between us.

  My skin grew cold as the blood in my body seemed to drain away. I was paralyzed in shock, unable to even form a reply. He thought I had something to do with this? Why?

  “Are you asking me what I think you are?”

  “Yes.”

  I opened my mouth, then closed it. Jesus. “I—I can’t—”

  “It’s an easy question.” He cocked his head, his mouth twisting in disgust. “A question I think you are having trouble answering.”

  “What are you talking about? What’s the question exactly? Are you kidding me?”

  He held up what was in his hands.

  I narrowed my eyes on it. It was the business card that the creep Alfred Morosto had given me as Dauphine and I left the bathroom at Le Club Cinquante Cinq.

  “Evan believes that Michello, Arriette’s brother, is working with Alfred Morosto. That somehow Morosto tipped Arriette’s brother off about our plans.”

  Oh. Oh.

  “I need you to tell me every single thing he said to you that day on the beach, and what you told him, and I want to know what he promised you.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  The approaching helicopter was sleek, black, and shiny with minimal markings. There was just a tail number that began with XP, and I guessed it was the helicopter version of a vanity plate. It drew a crowd in the port as it touched down at the end of a long seawall.

  I had no idea what kind of string-pulling had happened to allow Xavier to use the port as his own personal airport.

  Xavier barked at me to follow as he ducked low. I hadn’t thought I was going with him, but everything suddenly changed. I’d gone from his lover to a traitor in the blink of an eye.

  He was reacting out of fear and panic, and I was trying really hard to keep that in mind.

  But internally I was seething and hurting, my fists clenching, and my head aching from grinding my teeth.

  The wind in my ears and thump of the blades was deafening. I held my hair out of my eyes as best I could as I followed him, running low to the loud beast. If it wasn’t for Dauphine, I would have told him to fuck off when he suddenly demanded I leave all my things and accompany him. But with a chance to get to her sooner, help find her, or at least be there when they did, I was biting back my anger.

  He twisted the handle of the door and wrenched it open, gesturing me inside.

  I climbed up into the cool dark interior, dipping my chin at a single pilot in a black helmet and headset with reflective glasses who nodded back. There were four black leather passenger seats, two pairs facing each other. I sat on the farthest one, facing toward the cockpit. I didn’t know much about being in one of these things, but if it was anything like a train, I wanted to be facing in the direction I was heading. Nerves slipped through me, upending my stomach.

  Xavier secured the door before taking the seat just inside, catty corner to me, his back to the cockpit, his long legs folding next to me. The closing of the door didn’t diminish the sound, just muffled the sharpness.

  I found a seatbelt and secured it and tried my best to smooth and retie my hair. Then I looked over at Xavier.

  His eyes were bloodshot, his hair wild from the wind, and I suddenly noticed he’d misbuttoned his shirt getting dressed earlier. I hung on to that small detail to remind myself he was a human and terrified father and not a megalomaniac billionaire who thought I’d wronged him. Not deep down. At least I hoped so.

  He turned his head to nod at the pilot over his shoulder and unhooked a set of earphones from his headrest, putting them on. He tapped them and pointed to beside my head.

  I turned my face, seeing the headset right next to me by the window.

  My stomach lurched as the machine rose, and the pier rushed away beneath us. Fumbling with the earphones and the mouthpiece, I managed to get them on.

  Silence.

  My ears rang in the void of sound as I adjusted. Then Xavier spoke, something in French. The pilot responded. They conversed back and forth a few times.

  Outside the window, the low sun cascaded over the peninsula of La Revellata and over the azure bays. It was hard to believe what had happened down there just a couple of hours ago. I should have been building emotional armor instead of falling all the way in love. Because damn it, my heart was splintering, and I wanted to double over with the pain of it.

  Fear for Dauphine was the only thing keeping me functioning.

  Then the helicopter banked, causing me to grab onto my seat with both hands, and turned out to sea.

  “Josephine,” Xavier said in my ears.

  I looked up at his flat mouth and his blank eyes.

  “I have told the pilot to put us on a separate channel. Can you hear me?”

  I nodded, my belly nauseous.

  “Start talking.”

  I took a calming breath and counted to three. “About what?”

  “Don’t be diff—”

  “Difficult? I’m trying really hard right now to give you the benefit of the doubt,” I snapped. “I didn’t resist when you basically frog-marched me onto this death-trap of a machine only because I’m also terrified for Dauphine. And every second you think I had something to do with her being taken is wasting precious time figuring out who actually has her.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What did he say to you?”

  “Morosto? You already asked me that on the beach that afternoon.”

  “And you didn’t tell me.”

  “Because there was hardly anything to say,” I said and leaned toward him. “He made a pass at me. He told me I could come and be a nanny in his house.”

  Xavier’s jaw tightened and he bared his teeth. I was guessing he knew Morosto didn’t have young children.

  “Or,” I lifted a shoulder, “spy on you for him.”

  His head cocked. “And did you?”

  I gave a humorless laugh as I shook my head in disbelief, sitting back. “Fuck you.”

  Xavier made a strangled sound in his throat, and his fist pounded the seat in front of him.

  I gasped, my jaw dropping. “You asshole,” I hissed, my heart leaping into my throat with fright. It was in no way aimed at me or even close, but the violence of it left me shaking. “Calm down or I’m not speaking to you ever again. I had nothing to do with this, and you damn well know it,” I barreled on, shaken. “Alfred Morosto is a creep. He asked me if I was interested in an ‘arrangement.’ I said, no. He called me an icy bitch and asked me if I warmed up more for you. He assumed we were fucking.” I dragged in a breath. “Like father like son, right?”

  Xavier flinched.

  Fuck. I looked away, squeezing my eyes shut, so I didn’t have to look down and see how high we were over nothing but water. “And he called you a nerd.” I remembered the final detail. “Are you happy now?”

  Xavier was quiet and when I glanced back, he was leaning down, cradling his head in his hands.

  Silence crackled between us over the airwaves.

  His muscular shoulders outlined against his shirt heaved as he breathed deeply, and I i
tched to reach out and soothe him. To comfort him about Dauphine, to take back my biting words. Even after his actions.

  But I turned my head to the window, hanging onto my anger.

  “Where was Dauphine?” he asked after a few moments.

  “In the bathroom. I was waiting for her outside it. He cornered me in the hallway.”

  “Why did you take his card?”

  “Because it was either that or he was going to slip it between my breasts himself.” I glared at Xavier, and he stared right back. He was a master of non-expression, and I knew I wasn’t. I only hoped he could see in my face how utterly outrageous his accusation was and how much he’d hurt me with it. To think how differently we’d gazed at each other not so long ago, our bodies slick with sea water and desire.

  I’d known our relationship was temporary, but there was no way I could have predicted the hammer that would come down on us. I swallowed and set my chin. “I think you’re forgetting who I am. I have a life waiting for me back home. A career.” If I could build it back up. “I am an architect. Something I worked hard for. I didn’t ask to be here. And I don’t even work for you anymore.” My chest heaved. “I was going to leave, Xavier, remember? This trip to Corsica, that I’m now regretting with every fiber of my being, was your idea because you were horny and lonely. And don’t you forget it.”

  Without his brief display of rage a few moments ago, and his general dishevelment, you wouldn’t even know what he was thinking. His gaze on mine flickered, the only clue that he heard what I was saying.

  I tore my eyes away and stared out at the graduated blue canvas of the horizon. Then I closed my eyes and conjured Dauphine’s sweet, joyful, laughing smile. She was going to be okay. That certainty struck me deep. “Stop pointing fingers at me, and let’s start thinking about how to find her,” I added tiredly.

  “You are correct.”

  “Excuse me?” I opened my eyes.

  He looked back at the phone in his hand and read a text and then began texting someone back. “I should be focusing on Dauphine, not you,” he said after a few moments not looking up.

  I blinked at his coldness. My eyes flooded, and my breath left me like I’d been winded. A little girl was missing. This wasn’t the time to indulge the tsunami of rejection and pain engulfing me. But my heart was breaking, tearing off in great jagged chunks. And I simply couldn’t hold it together anymore.

  My chest constricted, unable to hold back the choking sob. Yanking my mouthpiece down so he didn’t have to hear it, I stuffed my fist in my mouth and curled over as if I could keep my heart from falling out of my chest.

  The rest of the helicopter ride was silent for me. Xavier had gone onto a channel with the pilot, and I was left hanging in the muffled silence as we sliced through the air to mainland France. I could see the coastline, littered with the towns and cities of the Riviera.

  I’d barely registered we were coming down on the roof of his mother’s house and then we were touching down. Clearly, I’d missed the flat roof and helipad on my tour. I glimpsed Madame out the window. She clutched the sleeve of her secretary, Jorge—both shielding their eyes from the sun and the wind of the blades.

  My legs were jelly as we disembarked.

  The elegant grand-mère I’d met had been replaced by an old lady with shaking hands who grabbed Xavier into a close hug, tears streaming down her face. Then she turned to me, and it was the most natural thing in the world for us to reach for each other, and in a moment I was wrapped in a hug full of warmth and sorrow and shared fear.

  The engine turned off and the blades slowed, the roar slowly dying. My ears rang.

  “Come, we will speak to the police, they have arrived downstairs,” Madame all but shouted.

  Xavier nodded and stalked ahead. He looked broken, and terrified, and so utterly alone, and I wanted to support him.

  Instead, I held out my arm for Madame, and she clasped it tightly while we followed.

  Jorge held open a door to a stairwell with stucco walls and tile steps. The metal clanged closed behind us.

  The sound of Xavier’s phone bleated loudly in the echo chamber of the stairwell. Ahead of us, he brought it to his ear, mid jog down the steps. “Allo.” He stopped dead, his hand reaching for the railing. His legs collapsed as he sat.

  My stomach bottomed out. Oh fuck.

  Beside me, Madame’s bony hand squeezed my arm like a vice. “Ô, mon Dieu, ô mon Dieu,” she wailed.

  “Shhh,” I soothed. There was no way Xavier could hear anything if she cried any louder. “Shhh. Let him listen.”

  We hurried down, stepping around him so we could see his face and try to get any kind of indication of what news he’d just received. Inside, I found myself chanting please be okay, please be okay.

  His eyes squeezed closed as he listened to whoever was on the other end.

  Madame laid a hand on his shoulder, and he grabbed it and held tight, taking the comfort. But by the rigidity in his body, I could tell that he wanted to kill whoever was on the other end of the line.

  “Oui,” he said, the word wrenched from him like it cost him everything he had. Then he took the phone from his ear.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  “S’il te plaît,” Madame begged as the phone slipped from Xavier’s ear.

  I watched as his entire body and spirit seem to collapse in on itself with … wait. Relief?

  “Elle va bien,” he whispered. “She is okay. For now. Michello has her. He wants money. But he’ll be lucky if he sees blue skies ever again. Evan knows where he is. God willing, Dauphine will be home by bedtime.”

  “Oh my God.” I breathed the words, my voice failing me. It wasn’t over yet, who knew how crazy this Michello person was, but knowing who had her was hopefully more than half the battle.

  Madame and I embraced with relief, and then as Xavier stood, she grabbed him and wrapped her arms around his back.

  I stepped back, hugging my arms around myself.

  Xavier released his mother. For a moment he stared at me.

  Desperate to reach for him, I clenched my fists at my sides.

  Our eyes locked for milliseconds that felt like long minutes.

  I licked my lips. “I hope you get her back soon. W-what can I do to help?”

  He blinked, his eyes cutting away. “I’m going down to speak to the police, so they can coordinate with Evan. Then I will take the helicopter. Accompany my mother by car to my villa in Valbonne.” His jaw flexed. “Please.”

  I swiped at my leaking eyes. “Of course.”

  He and his mother had another quick emotional exchange.

  His eyes cut to me again briefly, and then we were on the move again.

  Downstairs, two plainclothes men who were identified as policemen, took my name but didn’t ask any questions. Madame and I left Xavier with them and followed Jorge and Madame’s housekeeper Astrid to a waiting black Mercedes in the circular driveway. Everything was happening in a blur. I clutched Madame’s hand.

  “It feels wrong to leave Xavier to find her alone,” Madame said as we got in the car.

  I squeezed her hand. “I know. I feel the same. Will he be okay?”

  “The police will accompany him. I … yes, I hope so.” Her voice shook, betraying her terror.

  “They didn’t ask me any questions,” I said, just now realizing how odd that was.

  “Xavier told them you had nothing to do with it and that you were with him in Calvi.”

  My eyes filled again. So he could tell them, but not me? I clenched my jaw and willed myself to understand that he was a man in panic. An apology might come later. Right now, he just needed to get to Dauphine. “He’ll bring her home, and she’ll need you there waiting for her,” I told Madame reassuringly.

  I, on the other hand, felt like a burden in a family crisis. My passport and belongings were stranded on a boat in the ocean. I couldn’t leave. Although at this stage, I’d happily leave everything I owned behind not to have to face Xavier’s col
dness ever again. A sigh wrenched from my emotionally tired body. I was terrified for Dauphine and desperate to see her safe. And fear and heartbreak had depleted me.

  I just wanted to go home. I wanted to wake up in my shoebox room in my aging apartment I shared with my two best friends. I wanted to look out the kitchen window and see a brick wall that I knew. I never wanted to see another yacht. I wanted to walk to my favorite little coffee shop and hope that the French lady, Sylvie, didn’t remind me of Xavier. Or a little girl I’d lost my heart to. Then, for a living, I wanted to draw, create, imagine, and protect history all day.

  And I wanted to go back in time—back to before—to my safe life in my small city. A place where I didn’t know how many shades of blue an ocean, or a broken man’s eyes, could be.

  Madame smiled a watery smile, unaware of the turmoil and sadness that had suddenly overcome me. “Dauphine will need you too.”

  “Maybe. I need to see her safe.” And then I needed to see myself safe. There was no ignoring my throbbing heart that still gasped like a gutted fish in my chest. After I held Dauphine close, I’d need time to heal away from all this. Breathe, Josie.

  “She loves you. So much.”

  “I love her too.” I was going to crush her tiny body in the biggest hug when we had her safe. God, I hoped she was all right and not scared. The poor girl already had nightmares. My stomach swirled with rage at thinking of the asshole who had her, of how terrified she must be. I understood an inkling of how Xavier must be feeling. He must want to tear Michello limb from limb. It was a pity he was a legitimate businessman and not a gangster because I’m sure with his resources he could make somebody disappear. I took a deep breath. God, I wanted to hold him. Comfort him. Even after his brutal accusations today. The image of him curled up, his head in my lap, in a rare moment of vulnerability flashed through my mind, and I blinked back the burn of more tears.

  “And my son? Do you love him?”

  I jerked, my deep inhale interrupted.

  “I’m sorry. I did not mean … to shock you.”