The Best Of The Year - Modern Romance. Annie West
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she no longer had to carry the heavy burden. But a larger part of her would have given anything to take it back. Because Bastien would never look at her the same way again. A man in his position wouldn’t want to associate himself with anyone with her handicap. Who would want an illiterate model representing his world-class diamonds?
Fresh sobs clogged her throat. Defiantly, she swallowed them down. He’d lulled her into a false sense of security by letting her believe everything was above-board. It didn’t sit well to acknowledge that part of it was her fault. She’d been so inclined to believe the good in Bastien that she’d dropped her vigilance when it came to her career.
She heard his approach a second before he emerged from behind a rose bush. Tall and powerful, he blocked out the bright sunshine when he stopped in front of her.
She turned away, hoping the curtain of her hair would hide her blotched, tearstained face.
‘Go away, Bastien.’ After all that had happened, after trusting him with her body, she just couldn’t face him.
He didn’t respond. Instead a square, neatly folded handkerchief appeared before her eyes. Mutely, she stared at it, wondered why it made her want to cry all over again.
She snatched it from him with curt thanks, tried to repair as much of the damage as possible and cringed when a hiccup escaped.
He folded his large frame on to the bench next to her and awareness of a different sort scythed through her as his thigh brushed hers. Surreptitiously she eased away.
If he noticed he didn’t comment. Neither did he break the silence. It screeched on her nerves until, unable to stand it, she glanced furtively at him.
He was studying his hands, folded between his thighs. Sensing her gaze, his eyes locked with hers.
‘The newspaper and the audio books?’ he asked simply.
Face flaming, she nodded.
‘Tell me,’ he coaxed gently.
Her lips quivered and she looked away. ‘I’d rather not.’
‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of, ma petite.’ His voice was a low rumble. ‘Dyslexia is a common—’
‘I don’t suffer from dyslexia. I can barely read or write because until I took matters into my own hands a year ago I’d never been taught how.’ She waited for his revulsion, fresh tears stinging her eyes.
It never came. His eyes remained steady on hers, curiosity the only emotion she glimpsed in the silver depths.
‘Why not?’
She heaved in a breath. ‘At the time of my parents’ divorce Lily was still modelling. When my father lost the custody battle he was devastated. He returned to Colombia and she immediately pulled me out of school with the excuse that she was taking me travelling and would hire tutors for me. And she did in the beginning. But she wouldn’t pay the tutors and they would leave after a couple of months.
‘I...I let something slip once to my father. She burned all my toys and called me an ungrateful child. After that she didn’t bother to hide it from my father. She knew it would deeply upset him. He’s a professor and education is his life. He reported her to the authorities a few times. She responded by banning me from seeing him for two years. When she signed me up with a modelling agency she warned me that if I let on about my lack of education I’d never see my father again. I was too scared to risk it so I...I lied to the agency when they asked if I was being tutored. Once I asked her why. She told me I was pretty enough. I didn’t need an education.’
Bastien cursed under his breath. ‘You mentioned a year ago. What changed?’
She took a deep breath. ‘That’s when I decided to stop modelling. My father was discussing his latest find with me. It was fascinating, and I told him I’d love to volunteer on one of his projects. But even as a volunteer I’d need basic qualifications. I found myself a tutor, and I’ve been making steady progress, but I get...overwhelmed under pressure.’
He gave a slight shake of his head, his eyes fixed on hers. ‘And my asking you to sign a time-sensitive contract yesterday...’ He cursed under his breath.
‘I suppose you’re disgusted?’
‘Mon Dieu, of course I’m not disgusted,’ he said, and the admission was faintly tinged with something else—something that sounded a lot like...admiration.
Ana inwardly shook her head. She was imagining things.
Abruptly, Bastien looked away. His gaze tracked two butterflies chasing each other from flower to flower. Then he reached into his pocket and extracted a sheaf of papers.
Ana’s heart lurched as his large hands unfolded the document. She recognised her contract immediately.
‘This agreement is made between Diamonds by Heidecker Incorporated, a subsidiary of the Heidecker Corporation, and Miss Ana Duval of—’
‘Bastien, what are you doing?’
‘I’m doing what I would’ve done if you’d told me. I’d never violate your trust, ma petite. If you don’t believe anything else, believe that.’
He carried on reading, his deep, beautiful voice low and hypnotic. Blinking back tears, she listened, her heart trembling as realisation sank in.
Bastien wasn’t disgusted. He wasn’t scornful that she couldn’t read.
He was helping her.
Feelings, deep and inexplicable, flooded through her.
He read on, pausing every now and then to make sure she was paying attention. When he’d finished he glanced at her. ‘You understood all that?’
Biting her lip to keep back the tears that seemed determined to ruin her, she nodded. ‘Yes. You extended it by another year because you’re thinking of serialising the ad campaign.’
‘Yes. Would you have signed this contract if you’d known what you know now?’
She hesitated for a split second. ‘No. I want to go and work with my father.’
He nodded. Then, without taking his eyes from hers, he tore the contract in two. Her gasp settled on the air before disintegrating against the sound of continued ripping. He shredded the paper until the sheets were tiny, insubstantial squares. Rolling them into a ball, he stuffed it in his pocket.
‘Why?’ she asked around a throat clogged with choking emotion.
His gaze turned sombre. ‘You had no idea what you were signing. I won’t take advantage of that.’
Simple words. Such simple words. Yet Ana felt the ground shift beneath her. Felt something cataclysmic rush through her, bringing back that sense of foreboding she’d felt as they drove through the gates of the chateau five days ago. But this time she caught a glimpse of what it meant before the moment was lost again. And she wasn’t as frightened. What she did feel was an overwhelming need to touch Bastien, to connect with him—somehow convey this inexplicable feeling she couldn’t give voice to.
Before she could stop herself she placed her hand on his cheek. ‘If this carries on I’ll start to think you’re not as hard as you make yourself out to be.’ Her voice emerged deeply husky, a result of her tears and the feelings roiling through her.
A small smile lifted one corner of his mouth. ‘Don’t fool yourself. I’m still the same.’
Her soft laugh wrapped around them. ‘Maybe, but you’re not so scary any more.’
He sobered. ‘I scared you?’
‘For a little while—and only because I didn’t really know you well enough.’
‘And you think you know me now?’ A hint of wariness laced his tone, but he didn’t move away.
‘I’d like to...if you’d let me.’ Knowing she was