Back Broken French
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

As soon as I got to the main living area, I took a moment to look outside the window. We were cutting through the water, land to our right. The morning sun sparkled off the blue waves. I wanted to appreciate it more, but my need for caffeine outweighed the gorgeous view. I had yet to see where the chef worked, so I looked around for where the kitchen might be. Wait, was it even called a kitchen? A galley?

The sound of masculine laughter came from the bridge.

I headed that way to say good morning and perhaps be pointed in the right direction for caffeine.

Dauphine sat in the captain’s chair, her hands on the large wheel, and Captain Paco stood behind her, pointing into the distance. A breeze blew through the open windows and the scent of salted air was a welcome jolt to my tired brain.

“Good morning,” I greeted.

“Look! I drive the boat,” Dauphine gushed when she saw me.

I chuckled. “I can see that, no wonder it’s such a smooth ride. You must be doing a great job.”

She flushed with pride.

“I was wondering where I might find some breakfast leftovers and some coffee.”

Dauphine abandoned post, sliding off the high wooden chair. “I will bring you.” She was in tiny white shorts and a blue t-shirt. Her hair needed a brush.

Paco patted her head.

“Sorry you have to lose your co-captain,” I told him, setting my feet farther apart to allow for the motion of the boat.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, sticking an unlit skinny cigar in his mouth.

“Not enough. I’m still on American time.”

He nodded. “It will take a few days.”

Dauphine tugged on my hand. “Come.”

I raised my other in a goodbye wave and allowed myself to be led back down to the main living area and through a doorway on the opposite side of the stairwell I used to go downstairs to my cabin. The galley was long and narrow with high end appliances. The counters were stainless steel and spotless. It looked as though it could be the kitchen of some sleek, New York City loft. Chef was nowhere to be seen, but next to an expensive looking coffee machine, which still had a glowing red light, there was a plate, a linen napkin-wrapped set of utensils, a bowl of fresh cut fruit, and a basket of bread and pastries including a croissant wrapped in a linen napkin. Croissants. My weakness. Also nestled in the basket was a small ramekin of soft yellow butter and a tiny jar of red preserves with a checkered lid.