The Best Of The Year - Modern Romance. Annie West
mother’s ultimate rejection had done to him was inexcusable. He’d thought that particular fear was buried deep, unreachable.
But all it had taken was one softly voiced challenge to send him back to that dark, harrowing place.
Jumping onto the pier, he secured the rope with a vicious twist, silently thankful that the production crew were arriving tomorrow. The earlier he wrapped the ad campaign, the earlier he could end this enforced hiatus and return to his life. A life devoid of Ana, devoid of heated looks from sultry chocolate-brown eyes. No more second-guessing the choices he’d made for a life without emotion. A life that stretched out bleak and empty at the thought of Ana not being a part of it...
With a muted curse, he turned. She stood at the top of the steps leading to the galley, one hand lifted to catch her hair as the breeze played with it.
Bastien’s breath strangled in his chest. Just looking at her made his world fracture, threatening to splinter into a million pieces. No matter how much he tried to wrestle back control everything in him wanted to stride over to her, snatch her tiny waist in his hands and devour her lips. Maybe then they’d both forget what he’d let slip on the hillside.
As if she’d read his thoughts she parted her lips. Desire arrowed straight to his groin, leaving him as weak as a day-old kitten. That in itself was such a shock he couldn’t move for several seconds.
In all his affairs no woman had ever brought such an intense, debilitating feeling to him. Such...freedom. As if he was poised on the brink of some cataclysmic discovery.
Pour l’amour de Dieu. He stepped back into the boat and retrieved the basket. All this idle time was addling his brain. Facts. Figures. Cut-throat negotiations. That was what he needed. Not Ana back in his bed. That was not going to happen.
They entered the château through the kitchen, where Chantal was putting groceries away in the large pantry. He thanked her for the picnic and left the basket on the counter.
As he turned to leave, he caught sight of a tiny picture by the window. Stunned, he moved towards it, even though the image was one he remembered very well.
It was his father, his mother and himself on the pier, taken when he was five or six. They all looked so...happy. He picked up the picture, rubbing his hand across the dusty surface.
‘I kept it from...before,’ Chantal said from just behind his shoulder. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’
Before... When he’d moved back here and ordered everything that reminded him of his parents to be boxed up and shipped to Gstaad.
Without warning, Ana’s words echoed in his mind. ‘You’re letting the sins of your parent shape the way you live your life.’
He set the picture down, fighting endless waves of disquiet. But this time the righteous anger that usually fuelled his bitterness was missing. Was she right? Had he let what had happened sixteen years ago dictate the way he lived?
He turned. Ana stood in the doorway, her eyes seeking, her skin pale.
That jolt came again—harder than before. The chocolate depths were clear, fringed by lashes so thick and luxurious most women would kill to own them.
As if she couldn’t stand his blatant scrutiny she dropped her lids. That didn’t stop the arresting power of her face. His gaze moved down to the sensual curve of her lips and his chest tightened. How many times during the night had he tasted their sweetness? Yet he craved another taste so badly he could barely breathe.
He watched as colour rose in her cheeks. Knowing she wasn’t over this crazy chemistry between them either did nothing to ease his suffering.
Get a grip.
‘I need to clean up,’ she said.
Relief poured through him. ‘Okay. We’ll talk later.’
When he’d had a chance to regroup.
He went straight to his study and poured himself a brandy. Taking it to the terrace, he watched the sun set on his favourite lake. Nothing in the scene soothed him the way it normally did.
Prowling to the edge of the terrace, he lifted his face to the cool breeze washing in from the water.
His work was his life. Had been for as long as he could remember. Yet what he yearned for now, above everything else, was to be upstairs with Ana, losing himself in her body. Even the ‘we need to talk’ that normally sent him running didn’t eradicate this intense need to be with her.
He was definitely losing it!
Knocking back the rest of the drink, he returned to his study.
He entered the words into the search engine of his laptop and read through the information that came up. Satisfied he’d found what he needed, he closed the programme, then paused mid-stretch as he heard Ana’s voice in the hallway.
He’d lunged towards the door before he’d fully recognised his intentions.
She’d changed into a dark orange shift dress that set off her golden skin so spectacularly he had to shove his hands into his pockets to stop them from reaching for her. Her loose dark hair rippled with vitality, caressed one cheek as she turned. Slim fingers tucked the strands behind her ears, a small smile appearing on her lips when she saw him.
‘Are you hungry?’
She grimaced. ‘Not really. My appetite seems to have taken a hike.’
She started walking towards the library. He fell into step beside her, opened the door and let her precede him, trying not to get too lost in her subtle perfume. Feeling like a geeky teenager caught gawping at the hottest girl in class, he plucked the nearest book from the shelf and cleared his throat.
‘I have something for you. Come.’
She glanced at him, but said nothing as she followed him to his study. A smaller laptop sat next to his large one. He turned it towards her.
‘Sit down,’ he said.
Too surprised to protest, she sat. He pressed a button on the small laptop and the screen flickered to life. ‘I’m not sure what your tutor was using before, but I’ve found a programme to tutor you in basic reading and writing. Do you use a laptop at home?’ he asked.
Flushing slightly, she nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Good.’ He guided her through the simple programme until she could manage on her own. Then he handed her the laptop. ‘This one’s yours. We’ll have a lesson every morning after breakfast. Make no mistake: I will be hard on you if I think you’re slacking— Why are you biting your lip?’
‘Because I’m trying to stop myself from crying, you idiot.’
That protective instinct he’d been trying to stave off washed over him when her eyes filled. He found himself crouching before her, cupping her cheek before he could stop himself. Hell, there was no denying it. Ana undid him like no other person on earth.
‘If you’re trying to find a way to make me go softer on you, forget it.’
She laughed and the sound suffused his veins with happiness. When she bent her head and a swathe of hair covered part of her face he tucked it behind her ear.
‘Why are you doing this, Bastien?’
He stilled, searched for a flippant answer but failed. ‘Because you’re a generous, talented person and you deserve someone in your corner.’
Her beautiful eyes filled again and he cursed under his breath.
‘But on the hill you said—’
‘I shouldn’t have ripped into you like that.’ His smile felt strained. ‘Truth is, no one has ever dared to examine my baggage so closely. No one has ever been allowed close enough to try. Except you. Hell, I even called my mother today because of your pushing. I’m thinking of heading to Gstaad when the shoot