The Best Of The Year - Modern Romance. Annie West
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told you: I’m a simple man.’
With deep undercurrents of emotional baggage. Ana let it go, but she couldn’t stop herself from leaning forward to kiss him lightly on the lips. He immediately deepened the kiss, stamping his mastery on the act until they both had to come up for air.
‘Thank you,’ she muttered when she could speak.
‘What for?’ he breathed against her lips.
‘For listening and for not being repulsed by my inability to read.’
He twisted his head, kissed her palm and folded her hand in his. ‘Being unable to read or write doesn’t define who you are. Don’t be ashamed of it.’ Standing up, he reached for her. ‘We’ll discuss your new contract later. I need to make a few calls before we head out for the picnic.’
‘We’re still going?’ she asked, surprised.
‘Nothing has changed, Ana.’
Her heart lifted, but almost immediately sank again. He might have just shown her that the kind, considerate fifteen-year-old she’d caught a glimpse of still existed somewhere in the adult Bastien. But that was as far as their situation went.
Their one-night agreement still stood. She was still his employee. And he was still giving out ‘Do Not Trespass’ signals.
And yet Ana knew she had changed. And with that change had come a deep yearning to fight for what she wanted.
And she wanted Bastien.
The truth of the statement hit her like a bolt of lightning.
As she walked beside him through the garden back to the château she couldn’t help glancing at him. He wasn’t as closed-off as he’d been a few days ago. The tightness around his mouth and eyes had eased, and the impassive look she’d associated with him at the beginning had dissipated. But she’d seen another side of him now. Perhaps, with time, he might even let her in.
Bastien caught her glance. ‘What’s wrong?’
She shook her head. ‘Nothing. I’ll go and freshen up and meet you here in an hour.’
* * *
Bastien finished his calls in half that time but deliberately stayed in his study, even though he wanted to shove back his chair and hunt her down. The confusion that had assailed him in the middle of the night when he’d watched her sleep had returned, intensified, since her stark announcement that morning.
He didn’t know what to do with the rush of protectiveness he’d felt when he’d seen her pain. Nor his undeniable need to seek her out in the garden, make sure she was all right.
Destroying the contract had been a no-brainer once he knew.
His jaw tightened. Lily Duval had wronged her daughter on so many levels. His own parents’ callous rejection had eroded any thoughts of a family of his own from his mind well before he’d emerged from teenhood. A life of solitude with the occasional liaison suited him fine. But Ana, despite her mother’s treatment of her, had forgiven her over and over. Bastien found it hard to grasp that forgiving spirit. But he couldn’t deny that he found it humbling...that it forced him to examine his relationship with his parents.
He glanced at the phone, found himself reaching for it. This time he dialled the number even as his senses reeled. He listened to the echoing ring, then the answer machine clicked in.
He cleared his throat. ‘Maman, c’est moi, Bastien... I...I’ll call back tomorrow.’ He dropped the phone and speared a hand through his hair.
What the hell was happening to him? What the hell was he doing, risking rejection all over again?
His every thought seemed to go back to Ana. She was responsible for this madness. For this upheaval in his life. The wisest thing would be to stay away from her.
He surged to his feet, but his intended path to the window veered off course when he heard her voice outside his study. Her fist was poised to knock. Her eyes, devoid of the tears that had slashed at his insides earlier, clashed with his.
‘Our picnic’s ready. Do you want me to take it down to the pier?’
Glancing down, he saw the large basket at her feet, but almost immediately his attention was riveted on her legs displayed beneath the skirt of her sundress.
A tremor coursed through him, displacing thought and reason and creating a vivid picture of how those legs had felt wrapped around him.
With more force than necessary he grasped the handle of the basket and yanked it up. ‘It’s all right. I’m ready to leave.’
She fell into step beside him. Bastien tried not to inhale her scent greedily.
They walked down to the pier and he saw her surprise when they reached his twenty-foot navy blue cabin cruiser.
‘I thought the boat would be a replica of your big, flashy super-yacht moored in Cannes. Or is that only for seducing the employees you want to fire?’
He slid her a glance. ‘What happened on that boat has only happened once. With you.’
He helped her in and passed her the basket. Their fingers touched and she trembled. Resisting the urge to cancel the trip and sweep her off into his bed, he started the engine and eased away from the pier.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
‘We’re headed upstream to Villeneuve.’
They picked up speed and Ana threw back her head, a wide smile on her face as she enjoyed the rush of the breeze.
Bastien watched her wave to other sailors, unable to take his eyes off her. When she glanced at him the look in her eyes stopped his breath. Forcing himself to concentrate or risk crashing, he pulled the boat into a tiny inlet and pointed to a hill above them.
‘There’s a spot just over that rise. We’ll have lunch there.’
They reached the top of the hill and she gazed down at the view. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said.
‘Indeed,’ he agreed.
She turned and Bastien’s gaze dropped to her mouth. Relentless desire pounded at him. She swayed as if the force of his need had physically reached out and tugged her to him.
Last night had done nothing to ease his hunger, he admitted grimly to himself. If anything, it had only intensified his yearning for her.
That didn’t mean he had to act on it. Turning away, he briskly laid out their lunch, gesturing to her to take her place opposite him.
Tucking her hair behind her ears, Ana sank onto the blanket. ‘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,