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Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Full Page Image
  3. Dedication
  4. Chapter One
  5. Chapter Two
  6. Chapter Three
  7. Chapter Four
  8. Chapter Five
  9. Chapter Six
  10. Chapter Seven
  11. Chapter Eight
  12. Chapter Nine
  13. Chapter Ten
  14. Chapter Eleven
  15. Chapter Twelve
  16. Chapter Thirteen
  17. Chapter Fourteen
  18. Chapter Fifteen
  19. Chapter Sixteen
  20. Chapter Seventeen
  21. Chapter Eighteen
  22. Chapter Nineteen
  23. Chapter Twenty
  24. Chapter Twenty-One
  25. Chapter Twenty-Two
  26. Chapter Twenty-Three
  27. Chapter Twenty-Four
  28. Chapter Twenty-Five
  29. Chapter Twenty-Six
  30. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  31. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  32. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  33. Chapter Thirty
  34. Chapter Thirty-One
  35. Chapter Thirty-Two
  36. Chapter Thirty-Three
  37. Chapter Thirty-Four
  38. Chapter Thirty-Five
  39. Chapter Thirty-Six
  40. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  41. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  42. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  43. Chapter Forty
  44. Chapter Forty-One
  45. Chapter Forty-Two
  46. Chapter Forty-Three
  47. Chapter Forty-Four
  48. Chapter Forty-Five
  49. Chapter Forty-Six
  50. Chapter Forty-Seven
  51. Chapter Forty-Eight
  52. Chapter Forty-Nine
  53. Chapter Fifty
  54. Chapter Fifty-One
  55. Chapter Fifty-Two
  56. Chapter Fifty-Three
  57. Chapter Fifty-Four
  58. NEXT
  59. EXCERPT STOLEN ENGLISH
  60. Acknowledgments
  61. ALSO BY TASHA BOYD
  62. About the Author

His hands raced over me. Then indicated the blood on the towel. “You’re bleeding. Where are you hurt?”

I grabbed at the towel and tried to keep myself covered. The cut was high on my thigh. It was a graze really, now that the blood had been wiped clean.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing. The razor slipped.” I gestured to the area of the cut.

His hand shoved the towel aside and revealed the tiny wound for a second, before he then covered his face with his other hand. “Pardon. I’m sorry. I panicked. I thought you were hurt.”

“I slipped. Then I got sick. But I’m okay.”

“You are seasick?”

I nodded and took a moment to take stock of my body. “I think so. But I feel better now.” Nothing like being rescued by a hunky Frenchman to sort your body’s priorities out. Seasick? What? Short memory.

“You feel better?” he asked.

I nodded.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his shoulders slumping. “I thought—”

My fingers reached out and curved around his upper arm and squeezed. I wanted to sit up and hold him to me—to offer him comfort from whatever nightmare had just surfaced in his memories.

I became aware of his hand on my thigh and of my towel, which was in danger of baring all. I couldn’t see how much of me below the waist was revealed. My attention fell to the air cooling the damp skin between my legs and realized it was probably a lot. He was being a gentleman not to look, and I forced myself not to try and cover up lest I draw more attention. Nonetheless, heat pooled, my skin prickling.

Then his eyes trailed downward. A dark lock of hair fell across is forehead. His lips parted as a soft puff of air escaped, then closed as he gave a heavy swallow.

He looked up at me and caught my gaze, his denim eyes burning, pupils large, worry ebbing. His expression—so desperate, so vulnerable, so hungry—made my breath falter. Then he glanced at the open door.

He got up, his hand sliding off my skin, and went to the door. He closed it.

It shut with a soft snick. And he slowly turned the catch, locking us in.

“Is this okay?” he rasped.

I didn’t think he was asking about the closed door this time.

Chapter Thirty-Three

XAVIER