Broken French - Natasha Boyd Page 0,114

knew what, as he did those wicked things to my body, was just about the most erotic thing I’d experienced. I groaned and squeezed my thighs together. I wanted him again. This was bad.

His fingers caressed my hair again. I turned my face away so he was on my other side. I wasn’t ready to look at him yet.

“Josie,” he murmured. “Are you okay? Tell me … did I hurt you? I’m sorry.” His lips found my shoulder, my spine. Warmth moved through me.

I answered him in my head. Not yet. But you will. Of that I’m sure.

Counting silently to three, I turned my face to the side he was on, trusting that the pillow had wiped away all traces of my strange emotional reaction. He lay, temple propped up on one hand, looking down at me. His blue eyes were soft and dark. Intense.

The boat’s rocking had calmed, though the engine still chugged, propelling us on our journey. “That was an interesting way of taking my mind off feeling seasick,” I mumbled and watched as his mouth spread into an open smile.

I closed my eyes. “Don’t do that,” I grumbled.

“What? Smile at you?”

“Mmm.”

“Are you so grumpy?” He trailed fingers down my spine to the curve of my ass. He was obsessed. My flesh rose with sparks in his wake. “I would have thought you’d be relaxed now.”

“Like you are?” I mused. “You’re like a tamed panther.”

“But still hungry. Hungry animals are never tame.” His palm circled over one mound, then the other before his fingers trailed up the crease.

I was awash with aching heat again. I couldn’t believe I could be turned on again so quickly. Nor that he’d gone so long without sex. With the stamina and skill he had, it was a crime to deny the world so long. Ugh. Jealousy thumped me in the gut quick and hard.

His hand left my back and his finger pressed between my eyebrows. “What happens in your mind when you get this line?” he asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s stupid.”

He waited, gaze on mine.

“I was jealous of all the other women. Past and future.”

Seconds passed and then he flopped onto his back, both arms coming up to cradle his head, and he stared at the ceiling, letting out a long breath.

A chill swept over me at the loss of his heat.

Me and my big mouth. I shifted, wincing at the feel of him, sticky and slick between my legs. I’d never let anyone do that. It was so intimate. And dangerous, to be honest. But this man could get anything from me. I should clean up. Finding the towel from my earlier shower bunched up beneath me, I made a move to get up and cover myself.

His hand shot out to my arm. “Reste un moment.” He shook his head. “Stay? S’il te plait.”

I grabbed the edge of the duvet and pulled it over me and rolled toward him.

“Don’t hide.”

“I’m not. I’m cold.”

Looking down his body, I saw he was hard again.

He followed my gaze and chuckled. “Lots of time to make up for,” he joked.

“Surely … surely there have been others. Other chances?”

His smile faded. “My life has been all about Dauphine and work. I know it seems easy from the outside. Other single parents have it harder. After all, I have a mother and plenty of staff who want to look after her. But,” he paused, brow furrowing as if thinking how to express himself, “I was scared. Scared I would not be a good father, and Dauphine would grow up being like her mother. I … keep looking for the signs. I don’t … it doesn’t seem like much else is important. I have my work. Many new challenges. Inventions. And I have my daughter.” He seemed to be dancing around something else. “I don’t like the way people—women—look at me. Like I’m broken. Tragic. A man to be pitied. Or saved. I am broken. I’m very aware of it. But it’s my business. And I don’t like to see it in people’s faces. In women’s eyes who think they can fix me. I don’t want to be fixed. I don’t trust easily. Not after Arriette. And I want to keep it that way. It’s safer. It works. But that hasn’t left me many opportunities. Women always want more.”

Wow. Offense taken. I was equally awash with pity for him and sadness for us. And hurt. As if he was rejecting me personally. “Everyone should

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