The Billionaire's Secret by Ava Miles Read Free Book Online Page B

ready to burst with gratitude,” she said to them, and they both hugged her. “You speak my language. I know that sounds weird since English is my first language, and French is yours. But making bread and baking it—”
    “Is a language all its own. It’s magical, no?” Andre asked. “We are going to make some beautiful magic together, ma petite, Margie, from Dare Valley.”
    Though her parents and the people in the circle she’d been born into had never understood her—or cared to—since leaving them, she’d slowly found other people who fed her soul, so to speak. These people were going to feed her soul. She just knew it.
    “You must try one of our punitions,” Belle said, breaking the circle and dashing over to the display in the corner.
    When she darted back, Margie took the special French shortbread cookie from her. “Thank you.”
    “I mix the ingredients and form the shapes,” Andre said, slapping his chest. “Belle adds her magic by sprinkling them with fairy dust, and the ancestors stoke the fire for our creations so they will be baked to perfection.”
    The punition simply melted in Margie’s mouth. “Oh! Oh my!” she said when she could finally speak.
    Andre gave a dirty little laugh. “That’s what Belle says when we are home, and the children are asleep.”
    “Oh, Andre,” Belle said, slapping him playfully on the arm. “You are a scoundrel. A rogue.”
    He waggled his brows. “And you love it, ma petite.”
    His wife’s beaming smile was answer enough. “Ignore us. He is…how do you say it in English? Friskier than usual? He has been waiting for your arrival with much anticipation. No one likes to teach like Andre does.”
    “I am eager to learn all you wish to show me,” she answered as he grabbed her hand and led her to the door that could only lead to the bakery.
    “We must have a tour, ma cherie,” he said to his wife. “We will return when the ancestors are satisfied.”
    “That might be a while.” Belle laughed. “I will remain here to sell our bread.”
    Andre led Margie behind the door, and the second she stepped inside, she was engulfed by the familiar scents of bread: sour, sweet, yeast, and baking.
    “We have two levels where we work,” Andre said, gesturing to the stainless steel counters. “Here we have the preparation area for the croissants and pain au chocolat. You see the machine in the corner. Do you know how to use it?”
    She shook her head, eying the massive press that rolled the croissant dough into its famously thin layers. “Not yet. I wanted the kitchen to be ready before mine arrived.”
    “No problem, ma cherie. I will teach you how to use it. It is easy. You simply have to make love to the bread.” His brown eyes twinkled. “You know how to make love to the bread, right?”
    Margie didn’t embarrass easily, but she could feel her cheeks heating. “Ah…I think so.”
    Andre made a kneading motion with his hands. “You stroke it and stroke it until it surrenders with a sigh.”
    She couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll…try and remember that.”
    His brow knit in puzzlement. “It is perhaps different for a woman. Belle!”
    His wife poked her head through the swinging door. “Oui?”
    “How do women bakers make love to the bread? I am trying to tell Margie, but I think it is different.”
    Belle gave him a seductive smile and winked at Margie. “You work it hard when it needs it, and you gently caress it when it wants to resist. And you do it all with love so it always rises to your touch.”
    Andre grabbed Belle to him and gave her a soft kiss. “That is why I love this woman.”
    Instead of feeling like a voyeur, Margie felt like she was seeing the highest version of a relationship. Here Andre and Belle were, working together in the bakery they shared, loving each other, and supporting each other’s dreams. It was so lovely to behold.
    “How many children do you have?” she asked when Belle gave Andre a playful shove so he’d