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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

“Well?” he asked

“On my way.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Xavier Pascale and I walked side by side from the concrete jetty down to the small fishermen’s huts that clustered in a semi-circle around the port. The heat of the day hadn’t ebbed fully yet, but a breeze had picked up.

“So, this is Calvi?” I asked.

“Yes. The quieter part of the port. More fishing boats, less tourists. And I know it better here.”

“And is this where your meeting is tomorrow?”

He stopped at the entrance of a narrow cobblestone alley we were about to head down and pointed up past the hulking citadel wall that overlooked the rocky bay and to the top of the cliff. “Up there.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Okay.”

He gave me a side grin. “Long story. Maybe I’ll tell you over dinner.” His hand brushed against mine and then he clasped it, his fingers sliding between mine.

My belly gave a flutter of pleasure. The handholding came just in time as my flip flop caught on a cobblestone and I tripped. Or maybe it was the distraction of the action. “Whoa!”

His arm wrapped around my back as he caught me. “Attention. I’m sorry. Be careful. Are you okay?”

I winced and wiggled my foot. “Tripping in flip flops is painful.”

“Will you be all right?” he asked, his brow furrowed in concern. He dropped to his haunches and inspected my foot before his fingers trailed up the back of my calf. “The restaurant is not far. Perhaps a foot massage when we get back tonight?”

I knocked on his forehead. “Are you real?”

“Ah.” He rubbed his head, a funny smile on his face.

“Sorry. It wasn’t too hard, was it?” Who was this sweet, smiley, playful man?

“For this head? No.”

“Ha.” I wiggled my toes. “I think I’m fine, let’s go. Did I mention how hungry I am?”

He stood and leaned forward. What was he—? Oh. His lips pressed against mine. Soft, persuasive, and over too quickly. He stepped back.

My eyes fluttered open. “What was that for?”

He suddenly looked unsure.

“I’m sorry. That was just unexpected.” I glanced around. “And the handholding too. I thought you were worried about people seeing you. Recognizing you?” Pedestrians went on their way around us. Shopkeepers were hanging out on their front steps smoking and chatting to each other, paying us no attention. It reminded me of St. Tropez, but less flashy, and less groups of perfectly dressed catalog families.

“No one knows I’m here. And people here don’t care who I am. Mostly. It’s not like on the mainland.”

“Wait, we’re not technically in France? I feel so stupid. I mean, I thought we were. I just didn’t think. No one wanted to see my passport.”