eyes held her prisoner, sending that familiar hot jolt she experienced every time she looked into those silver depths.
‘I’m pretty sure I have.’
‘I haven’t heard you once deny drug possession.’
‘Of course I’ve denied it. I’ve just told you what really happened.’
‘You give me your version of events, but you haven’t denied being a drug-user.’
She gasped. ‘How dare you?’
He dropped his foot and surged forward until she could see every fleck in his eyes. ‘Oh, I dare very much, Ana. You see, the welfare of my company is dependent on how much I dare. And so far, thanks to you, it’s not doing so well.’
She straightened her spine. She’d done nothing wrong and she was damned if she would cower in fear. ‘Fine. I don’t use drugs. Never have—never will. Satisfied?’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Did you leave your bag unattended at any point during the evening?’ he fired back.
‘I took it with me when I went to the bar but I may not have had hold of it the whole time. Look, I told the police all this.’
‘But my interest in you is far more vested than theirs, so I think I deserve to hear your account, no?’ His voice was soft, deadly.
Ana shivered. He was talking about his company, but she couldn’t help but think back to that one very personal moment they’d shared on his boat. One that brought equal shame and excitement each time she relived it.
Brushing the feeling away, she glared at him. ‘I get that—and, trust me, I want an explanation myself. Don’t forget my reputation is on the line too.’
Not to mention the fact that she was in severe danger of being dropped from her father’s volunteer programme if this situation got out of hand. Professor Santiago Duval might be a world-renowned archaeologist, but he’d drummed into his only child his hatred of favouritism.
Her father had despised that parasitic trait in her mother—the wife who’d fed on his prestige for as long as it suited her, then dragged him through a hellish divorce sixteen years ago. The wife who’d then eyed a Swiss banker, seen her way to a better life and selfishly grabbed at it, uncaring that she was wrecking lives.
She glanced at Bastien, wondered if he ever thought of that horrid winter. Or had he squashed it all beneath that icy demeanour?
‘We are where we are. I assume you’ll want to fire me from the DBH campaign again?’ This time she didn’t have much of a leg to stand on. But she intended to find a way to fight her charges and plead with her father to join his programme. Somehow.
His impassive look remained. ‘As satisfying as that sounds, it’s not that simple. The first adverts have already aired in the US and Japan. TV and media companies have been paid up-front for all three phases. Replacing you with another model now would mean shooting the whole thing all over again.’
‘You want me to finish my contract?’ She’d expected a swift, surgical exit from the Heidecker Corporation. ‘But I thought...’ She stopped when the in-car phone rang.
He answered it, his eyes staying locked on her. The incisive gaze made her aware of every sensitive pore on her skin, every breath she tried to take.
The tingling that had started in the courtroom flared again, rising to dangerous proportions as he conducted a leisurely survey of her body.
And through it all his features remained impassive.
Whoever had called and whatever news was being delivered reflected neither pleasure nor dissatisfaction his face. Bastien Heidecker had crafted his enigma into a fine instrument.
Even at fifteen, in the face of all the turmoil ripping their respective families apart, he’d never let his feelings show.
Except that one time...
He ended the call, replaced the handset and turned towards the window. Sunlight lit his features, turning his dark wavy blond hair a burnished gold. His strong, aquiline nose stood out in sharp relief and his clean-shaven jaw jutted out with uncompromising authority. His lips parted on a shallow breath, drawing her gaze to the exquisite shape of his mouth.
Ana held her own breath, willing him to keep looking outside. She told herself it was because she didn’t want to resume their conversation, but she knew it was because she wanted to continue gazing at him—to take in the silky texture of his lashes as he lowered his eyelids and blinked...to remember what it had felt like to be kissed by those lips.
He turned suddenly and her heart flipped into her stomach.
‘That was my CFO. DBH shares continue to tumble.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘And the market closes in thirty-five minutes.’
Apprehension knotted her stomach. ‘What does that mean?’ she asked around a dry throat.
His gaze hardened to tempered steel. ‘It means you’d better start praying that the shares rally. Because if by close of play there’s no sign of recovery then you, if we include the money I just stumped up for your bail, are liable to me for upwards of five million pounds.’
SHOCK RICOCHETED THROUGH ANA. ‘I don’t believe you.’ The words spilled out before she could stop them.
His mouth compressed, and his eyes were as cold as the Alps of his native Switzerland.
Without answering, he pressed a button in the keypad near his wrist. She watched with escalating dread as a monitor sprang up from the centre console and flickered to life. Once it had clicked into place he angled it to face her.
The jumble of words and numbers scrolling beneath the picture on the screen sent a surge of almost debilitating insecurity rushing through her. Feeling his gaze on her, she struggled to remain calm, not to give him any more ammunition against her. But even without adequate understanding Ana had watched enough television to grasp what the graph meant. Heart thudding, she followed the red line descending with alarming speed.
At the top right hand corner of the screen she saw the time emblazoned clearly: 15:32.
‘Turn it off,’ she snapped hoarsely.
‘That won’t make it go away,’ he rasped.
Pulling her gaze from the screen, she glanced down at her hands, saw the death grip she had on her purse and forced herself to relax. ‘Turn it off, Bastien. You’ve made your point.’
The screen disappeared into its casing.
Nervously, she licked her lips. ‘There must be something we...I can do?’
‘Not being caught in possession of drugs would’ve been the single, most positive outcome to this whole situation.’
She glared at him. ‘We can keep circling this conversation or we can discuss a useful way forward. Either way, my answer isn’t going to change.
