‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘Grab a plate and dish out the food. The bread should still be warm. I’ll cut up some cheese after I pour the wine,’ he said.
He filled a crystal glass and passed it to her. Her slim fingers brushed his. He heard her faint gasp and forced himself to ignore it.
‘The weather is much cooler than I imagined it would be at this time of year.’
‘To Genevans this is positively arctic weather.’
‘You’re very lucky. I hate being cold.’
‘Then why do you live in London?’
She shrugged. ‘That’s where I grew up. But I won’t be for much longer.’
‘Archaeology is a huge change.’
She took a bite of her food and chewed before answering. ‘I love a challenge.’
His wry smile confirmed that observation. ‘Most women would give everything to be in your place. And the paparazzi certainly loves you.’ He watched her, twirling his wine glass lazily between his fingers.
‘I’m not most women. And I don’t court publicity, if that’s what you’re implying. What I do is part of my job—’
‘It’s part of your job to constantly appear in public wearing as little as possible, hanging off the arm of the latest male model?’ A dark emotion stormed through his gut and his fingers tightened around his glass.
‘You’d be surprised how often the same pictures are modified and reused. Anyway, how do you know? Have you been checking up on me?’
Bastien felt a dull flush creep across his cheeks. He refused to admit he’d taken more than a little interest in her since she’d become the model for the DBH campaign.
When her eyes collided with his, heat flared within him. ‘I take a healthy interest for professional reasons.’
She laughed. ‘Really? Are you saying a powerful businessman like you doesn’t have minions to check things like that for you?’ Her voice had grown husky and her head had tilted seductively.
He grew hotter. He took a few bites of food as emotions tumbled through him.
They’d long passed civilised conversation and moved on to the subtext of sex and feelings that seemed inevitably to spring up between them when they were alone. His gaze flicked down to her mouth, her throat, caressed her neck and settled on her chest before climbing back up.
Her tongue snuck out, moistened her plump lips, and right then he would have given anything in the world to taste those lips again.
But he had to end this fevered need that clawed at him every time he looked at her. ‘Don’t look at me like that, ma petite.’
‘Like what?’ she challenged. ‘Help me out here, Bastien. I don’t know how this works. You kiss me when you feel like it, touch me, hold my hand. But I can’t look at you?’
His jaw tightened. ‘You don’t just look. You beguile with every sigh, tempt me with every breath.’
Hurt fleeted through her eyes, making him feel deeply unsettled.
‘I’m not deliberately trying to.’
He half laughed, half groaned. ‘I know. That’s the problem.’
‘Has it even occurred to you that I react like that because I’m attracted to you?’
Bastien was used to women speaking plainly about what they wanted from him—sometimes explicitly. Ana wasn’t one of them. He’d witnessed her struggle before succumbing to the incredible chemistry between them last night. The same way she’d struggled with revealing her painful relationship with her mother.
But the last thing he wanted, or needed, was for her to confuse their sexual encounter with something else. Or, worse, read some deeper meaning into the act. Emotion was messy. Emotion led to heartbreak and rejection.
She cleared her throat. ‘Last night—’
He cut in. ‘Last night was all it can ever be.’
Boldly, she met his gaze. ‘Why?’
‘Because letting temptation and emotion rule my life would make me no better than—’ He stopped, shock stabbing him at what he’d almost revealed.
‘Than who? Your father? That was what you were going to say, wasn’t it?’
He jerked upright and walked to the crest of the hill, staring down at the lake.
‘Leave it, Ana.’ He growled the warning.
‘But I guessed right, didn’t I? What are you so afraid of?’
He whirled. ‘Afraid! You think I’m afraid?’
‘Well...what, then? You won’t let yourself feel, and you snarl at anyone who attempts to get to know you.’
His laugh sounded edgy even to his own ears. ‘You’d prefer me to wear my heart on my sleeve like some paperback hero?’
‘No, but you told me this morning not to be ashamed of my shortcomings. You’re letting the sins of your parent shape the way you live your life.’
‘Parents. Plural.’ His eyes met hers. ‘What about you? Did you not hang on to your virginity because you didn’t want to end up like your mother?’
‘Yes, but I’m not a virgin any more,’ she pointed out softly. ‘And I’m trying very hard not to be like my mother.’
The deep conviction in her voice sparked something inside him. Something he realised, to his chagrin, was jealousy. Somewhere between his rescuing her from the courtroom and now she had attained a certain unshakeable confidence that had nothing to do with her poise or profession.
He stared at her, compelled, unable to take his eyes off her as she took another step closer.
‘What happened sixteen years ago was terrible. I was there too, remember? But at least your parents found their way back together and stayed together. You were lucky.’
Harsh laughter erupted from a place of dark, shuddering pain he thought he’d sealed off for ever.
‘Lucky! You call living with a serial adulterer of a father who didn’t bother to hide his transgressions from his family and a mother who instead of protecting her son tried to take her own life in the most dramatic way possible, lucky?’
ANA STRUGGLED TO BREATHE. ‘What?’
‘You heard me,’ he rasped, his voice raw and pain-filled.
‘But I thought... Oh, Bastien, I’m so sorry.’ Her chest felt tight, but it had nothing to do with her asthma. All
