Broken French - Natasha Boyd Page 0,127

would like to stay in my cabin tonight. If you need your own space I understand. But perhaps you would sleep better?”

“It’s not that I need my own space, but …” How did I tell him his dead wife was everywhere in that room? And knowing now what he’d shared with me about her, it felt even more heartrending. As if by keeping all her things for two years untouched that he wasn’t ready to give her memory up. Maybe he wasn’t. And where did that leave me? I already knew I was temporary for him, but I didn’t need the reminder while we made love. Not to mention that was a sure-fire way to say bye-bye to my big O. And I was quite attached to the ones he coaxed out of my body.

I took a breath. “It feels as if your room is yours and Arriette’s room. I don’t want to interfere with your memory of her. And it’s all right,” I rushed on. “I’m okay. Not, like, jealous, or anything.” I grimaced. Jealous? Of a dead woman? Fuuuucck. I needed more sleep, clearly. “Sorry, that was not what I meant.” I flailed. “I actually don’t know what I’m trying to say. I’m trying to be sensitive to your feelings, and mine, and her memory, and I’m not doing a very good job. I’m sorry.”

“Tu as fini?” He sat back down, eyebrow raised.

Was I finished? I nodded and studied his face for a clue into how much I’d just offended or upset him.

He looked thoughtful. “I have made a mistake in not taking Arriette’s things from the boat. Last summer, it was … it was the first time Dauphine and I had come to the boat without her maman. We did not stay too long. It was difficult. I should have done it before now. But I got busy. And then I worried perhaps I should wait until Dauphine wants to look and see what she wants to keep. But she seems so young for such a difficult task. And so, I waited. Or perhaps I avoided it. I did not expect to have someone … to bring … a lover here.” He swallowed heavily, his tone had grown thick.

“Then you should wait.”

“I’ve waited long enough. I spoke to Dauphine last week about it. I’ll be moving Arriette’s things—”

“I’m sorry.” I laid a hand on his forearm and squeezed gently. “You don’t need to share this. Or explain anything. You don’t owe me that.”

He took a long breath. “Perhaps we can talk about it later?”

“If you want.”

“Thank you.” He gazed at me then leaned forward, pressing his lips to mine in a brief, soft kiss. “Perhaps you should come with me today.”

I bit my lip. “To your meeting?”

“Why not?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“Come. You will like where I’m going. It was rebuilt in the eighteen hundreds on a fifteenth century foundation. And it’s not open to the general public.”

“Mmmm,” I moaned in pleasure. “You really know a lot about seduction, don’t you?”

He burst into a warm laugh. “Is that why I finally have you? Because I promised you history and architecture?” he teased. “I should have figured that out sooner. Come. Let’s get you downstairs so you can get ready.”

“A church?” I exclaimed. “You never did tell me exactly what it is you do. Who are you meeting with? Do you have business with God himself?” We’d wound up the mountain in a taxi, past the ancient citadel walls we saw from the boat, and through some rocky scrubland until we came to a chapel perched on a hill. A small sign told me it was called Notre Dame de la Serra. It was cream stucco and framed on a rocky hilltop with more stunning mountains around it.

He smiled, amused.

We climbed out of the taxi and walked through a small gate in a stone wall.

“Here she is now,” he said, looking past me across the small limestone cloistered courtyard. “Soeur Maria,” he greeted a tiny nun hurrying toward us.

Her lined face lit up with an excited smile. She was adorable.

“She doesn’t speak English, I apologize,” he said quietly to me.

“Oh. That’s okay. You’re meeting with a nun?”

“She worked at the boarding school I went to as a young boy.”

“And you’re still in touch? And you have a business meeting with her?”

“Another long story,” he said just as the small woman reached us, and tucking a folder under her arm, grabbed Xavier’s hands in hers. They spoke softly and affectionately, and

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