Broken French - Natasha Boyd Page 0,146

the port keeping an eye on us. We think he even had someone at Les Caves the night you and Andrea were there. Were you approached?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Oh. Wait. There were these two guys. Young. Gorgeous. They were all over Andrea and me. Quite insistent, actually.”

Xavier tensed. “Insistent how?”

My irritation simmered. What, was he jealous now? “Persuasive. Handsy.”

His eyes narrowed.

“It was nothing over the line,” I added, relenting.

Evan’s eyes flicked between us. “Ahem. I think we get the point. I’d just found the discrepancy in the data feed and shut it down. That’s when I told Xavier I thought we had some malware.”

“I remember not being able to get online or send an email that day,” I said.

“We think they were trying to get another link in by approaching you and Andrea. Anyway, it took a few days to go through what was compromised. But Xavier’s calendar and our itinerary definitely were. We assumed corporate espionage. Especially when the day before yesterday, while you were sailing to Corsica, I had Xavier’s assistant at the office in Sofia Antipolis reach out to the older Monsieur Pascale and tell him not to invite another person to meetings with his son before clearing it with us first. That’s when he said he hadn’t known Morosto was coming, that the reservation had been changed to add Morosto at the last minute. He thought Xavier had done it. So Morosto had known where we were going and when. It was a hunch that Morosto had been using Michello to get to Xavier. Michello would be a natural choice given the massive chip on his shoulder. And I knew where to look for him. We think access to where Dauphine might be was his part of the bargain. That he might use her to extort money from Xavier was always a probability.”

“God. Where is Michello now?” I asked, wondering about the details of how Dauphine had been found and whether Michello had put up a fight. She could have been hurt.

“In jail, arrested on kidnapping and extortion charges,” Evan said.

“Mais, what do you possess, Xavier, that would make this evil man Morosto risk certain jail time for a chance at it?” Madame asked. “And put my granddaughter in danger?”

Xavier shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s everything,” Evan said, rolling his eyes at Xavier. “Madame, your son has invented something that almost every government and every company will need in order to secure their place in a dystopian future. Which is looking more likely every day, but that’s a different story. Let’s put it this way. Even Bill Gates will want to use it.” He chuckled. “Especially Bill Gates.”

Xavier glared. “Tais-toi,” he muttered to Evan.

“To be honest,” Evan blithely went on, “that plebian, Morosto wouldn’t know what to do with the information even if he’d found it.”

Madame nodded approvingly. “Xavier. You know I’m always so proud of you.”

“Merci,” he said uncomfortably and shot an annoyed glance at Evan before rolling his eyes.

“Mais maintenant,” Madame went on with a short and decisive clap. “It is very late. Tomorrow everything will be clearer.”

I wasn’t sure I was ready to deal with everything between Xavier and me, not after such a frightening day. Of course, I’d be ready for his apology any time, the sooner the better, but he and I needed to talk about a whole lot more than that. And I was shattered.

Madame stood, and I followed suit.

Evan nodded at me. “I’ll arrange to have your belongings delivered here tomorrow,” he said as he headed toward the door. “Good night, Josie.”

I wanted to follow Evan out and ask him about my flight home. Looking toward Xavier, I was about to tell him goodnight too.

“Josephine, please stay a moment?” He nodded at both his mother and Evan, and they left us alone.

Chapter Forty-Five

Xavier and I stared at each other in the dim light of the library sitting room. He seemed so far away, and so exhausted, harrowing lines of the panic he’d faced earlier today etched around his eyes and bracketing his mouth. In any other situation where someone so dear to me had been through what Xavier had been through, I’d have been up and in his arms to hold him and comfort him.

Screw it.

I seemed to fly across the room, giving in to a decision I hadn’t even known I’d made, and wrapped my arms around his torso.

He stumbled as he caught me.

Maybe if I held him tight enough, all those cracks and fissures in

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