Downstairs, I could hear Madame and Jorge, and soon the smell of baking bread wound up the stairs. My stomach growled. On the side table was a picture in a frame. I stepped closer and picked it up. Dauphine was small, maybe five or six. Her mother, a slender and exotic looking stunner, her long hair falling in a silken cascade over one shoulder, knelt next to her daughter, an arm around her shoulder. They both smiled the same smile into the camera. Dauphine’s was missing two front teeth, but there was no mistaking she was this woman’s daughter. It must be a painful reminder for Xavier to see Arriette in his daughter every day.

Astrid cleared her throat, indicating she was waiting for me.

Following her, I entered the final bedroom. It had windows and a balcony across the back wall, but the space was dominated by a king-sized bed done in flax linen in shades of dried tobacco leaf. It was cozy and masculine and smelled of Xavier. The unique scent of his skin mixed with salt and cedar. I blinked, feeling lightheaded, a wave of sadness burning my throat.

My legs felt weak with the urge to crawl into the bed, surrounded by his scent, and wait for his return.

Realizing I was standing still, staring at the bed, I shook my head. Astrid gave me a sad and knowing smile before pointing to an empty shelf and saying something in French. I gathered there were no spare sheets in the closet, or they were already on the bed. I wasn’t sure which. She straightened the bed, and then we went back downstairs.

Jorge was halfway up with Madame’s valise and nodded to me. “Any news?” I asked as I passed.

“Madame is speaking with Monsieur Pascale now.”

I pulled out my phone and rounded the corner into a large charming kitchen.

There was a text from a number I didn’t recognize.

I have her. We will not be back until late. X.

Xavier.

I gave a gasp of relief as I locked eyes with Madame. She was smiling and nodding, her phone to her ear as she caught my eye.

Feeling dizzy with relief, I slumped into a chair at the large wooden kitchen table. I responded to several texts from Andrea asking for an update.

I was going to hug Dauphine so tight I’d have to be careful not to crack a bone in her tiny bony.

And he’d texted me. That had to mean he didn’t think I was involved any more, surely?

Chapter Forty-Four

Sounds permeated my consciousness, and I blinked my eyes open. A small lamp threw shadows up the stucco walls.