The Best Of The Year - Modern Romance

The thought of him suffering because of what she’d done brought fresh tears. But Ana brushed them away and sucked in a deep breath. He was gone. She couldn’t do anything about that. What she could do, though, was throw her every last skill at making the ad campaign the best it could be. That she could control.

Trudging to the bathroom, she undressed and showered.

* * *

The crew’s arrival threw the château into a whirlwind of frenzied activity. Ana gladly submerged herself in the organised chaos, helping to unload equipment and assisting Chantal in setting up the crew in their allocated rooms. Anything to stop herself from revisiting that desolate place inside her that threatened to overwhelm her every time she thought of Bastien.

The first fracture in her false façade came when her phone beeped with a text. Thinking it was from Bastien, she jumped on it—only to find it was from Lily, wishing her luck for the shoot. The hope she’d been trying to stem since that phone call with her mother refused to die, no matter how much she tried to stave it off.

Her composure slipped even further when, at midday, a lawyer from a local firm turned up. He’d been hired by Bastien the day before and instructed to help her redraft new terms for her contract.

The short, moustachioed man was visibly startled when tears welled in her eyes. Bastien had shortened the twelve-month contract to two, and given her first refusal for any serialised campaigns. She signed the documents, her heart aching.

‘Ana—there you are.’

She turned from the late-afternoon sunlight streaming through the tower window to find Robin Green, the director, behind her.

‘Okay, that forlorn look you were wearing just now is great for when we shoot the scene downstairs, moments before you meet your handsome prince again after seven years apart. But not for the tower scene. Remember—this room is where love finally triumphs. I want radiance, ecstasy, unforgettable passion. Yes?’

She nodded, although deep inside she despaired about how she could pull off everlasting love when her insides were anguished, raw.

All through hair and make-up her mind drifted, wondering where Bastien was, what he was doing. How he was coping with the bombshell she’d thrown into his life.

Her emotions were so on edge a lump rose in her throat when the two security men guarding the Heidecker diamonds stepped forward. The white diamonds selected for the first scene were dazzling. As always, Ana was awed at the beauty of the pieces the Heidecker jewellers had produced. She’d modelled countless pieces of jewellery before, but none as stunning as the award-winning Diamonds by Heidecker collection.

She held her breath as the necklace was fastened. Against the royal blue of her floor-length strapless Dior gown the stones of the diamond collarette set in platinum stood out so vividly even the seasoned make-up artist gave a murmur of appreciation. Matching teardrop earrings went on next.

Xander Bryson took the role of her childhood love, the prince, but the scene they were shooting now required her to play alongside her current lover, on whose arm she was to arrive at a ball.

Robin yelled, ‘Action!’

A limousine rolled forward and the flashes of fake paparazzi cameras erupted as Ana stepped from the car onto the red carpet. Faking sadness came easily. Her actions had permanently scarred the beautiful man who owned her heart, so she immersed herself in her heartache and went with it.

‘That was perfection, Ana,’ Robin gushed. ‘Always a great sign when things go so well on a first take. Keep it up and we’ll have this thing wrapped in three days.’

* * *

Unfortunately the second day went in the opposite direction. Rain disrupted half a day’s shoot, fraying tempers and causing diva fits from Xander.

By the middle of day three Ana’s feet hurt and her whole body was mired in physical and emotional exhaustion. Striking poses for the photographer in charge of taking the stills—a tyrant who hid behind a perfectionist label—wasn’t going as smoothly as the filming had.

She heard the photographer’s annoyed huff one more time and suppressed her own huff. She wanted to scream, to tell him to take his camera and shove it somewhere dark and disturbing.

Swallowing her irritation, she tried another pose.

With another curse the photographer lowered his camera. ‘This isn’t working, Ana. Your shoulders are all hunched up. Relax!’

She gritted her teeth.

‘Think of something evocative...naughty. A lover kissing the back of your neck.’ He smirked.

Heat unfurled in her stomach as the image of Bastien doing exactly that rose in her mind. Her cheeks flushed, her body reacting instantly.

‘Yes! That’s it. Now, look straight into the camera!’

Ana responded to the directive automatically. The shutter clicked several times before she could wipe the look off her face. Shame drenched her as the photographer crooned his approval. Even after she’d lowered her eyes he clicked away.

The minute he took a break she sprang to her feet and rushed out, but the refrain in her head wouldn’t stop.

She loved him.

She loved Bastien.

The knowledge swamped her, wrapped tight around her heart, sent a dizzying wave of warmth through her even as her heart broke with the knowledge that she’d never have him.

Keep it together. Keep it together.

Somehow she made it through the rest of the afternoon and the next day without crumbling into a heap of pathetic hopelessness and bawling her eyes out.

Perhaps Robin was right and she was a natural, because she even managed the passion required for the final tower scene in which her onscreen lover presented her with the Crown Jewel—the signature marquise-cut yellow Heidecker diamond.

By simply closing her eyes and imagining she was kissing Bastien the scene was shot in a single take.

And, best of all, no one knew her heart was breaking into a million little pieces.

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE SHOOT WRAPPED just after midday, only half a day later than scheduled. Ana’s bags were packed, Bastien was gone and she had no right to be here when he returned. She had no intention of sullying the Château D’Or with her presence for longer than necessary.

She was packing away the last of the clothes Bastien had bought her when Xander entered her room and plonked himself on the antique armchair.

‘You’re coming out tonight, right?’

Tatiana had booked an exclusive restaurant and bar in Montreux for the wrap party but Ana had no interest in celebrating. ‘I was thinking of giving it a miss—’

‘No way. You’re the belle of the ball. You don’t go— I don’t go.’

‘Xander—’

‘There won’t be any paps around, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

She shook her head. ‘It’s not.’

His face became unusually thoughtful. ‘Are you worried about those absurd drug charges?’

She froze. In the midst of falling in love with a man she could never have she’d shoved all thoughts of her upcoming trial to the back of her mind. They flooded back now. ‘Absurd or not, they’re real.’

He nodded. ‘Do you have any idea who put the hook into you?’

‘No, but thanks for not assuming I’m guilty.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Please—you go green if anyone so much as mentions taking an aspirin. You could be the poster child for a universal anti-drug campaign.’

‘That doesn’t give me any idea of who did it.’

He eyed her silently for several seconds, making her heart race.

‘Xander...?’

‘I’m not pointing fingers, but perhaps you need to look closer to home for the culprit. And I mean home in the literal sense.’

Her heart lurched. ‘Are you sure?’

He shrugged. ‘All I’m saying is explore that avenue thoroughly.’ He jumped up and pecked her on the cheek. ‘Now, doll yourself up. It’s time to par-tay.’

About to refuse again, she paused.

She was in love with a man she’d wronged beyond forgiveness. In the middle of the night, racked with pain and guilt, she’d toyed with calling Tatiana to find out where he was. In the end she’d decided the best thing to do was to give him his space.

There would be time for nursing her broken heart later. Once she was far away from here.

She’d achieved what she’d set out to do for Bastien—salvage his ad campaign. To cause tongues to wag now would undo all the good she’d done, and refusing to attend the party would do just that.

‘Okay, I’ll come.’

Xander whooped on his way out, his fingers flying over the keyboard of his phone.

She chose a designer outfit that was more of a tunic than a dress. Its large sleeves covered her arms, but the bold, colourful, striped dress stopped at mid-thigh. Hoping it lent her an urgently needed vibrancy, she cinched it with a bronze diamante-studded belt and bronze high heels. Leaving her hair loose, she expertly applied her make-up and headed downstairs.

The trip to Montreux took less than half an hour.

The Hotel Suisse’s Belle Epoque private dining suite had been reserved exclusively for their use. Appreciative murmurs went through a crowd who, even used to working in an industry of blatant wealth, weren’t used to such extravagance.

Ana tried to feel joy in her surroundings but failed miserably. Desolation crashed over her, closely followed by the pain she felt every time she thought of Bastien.

She loved him. He would never love her.

But, with time, would he love another? Jealousy, hot and fierce, seared her at the thought of him married, perhaps raising children with another woman. By the time that happened—please God—she’d be at the opposite end of the earth with no access to newspapers or television. Because Ana didn’t think she could stand it. She couldn’t stand thinking about it now—

‘Hey, Ana, my Twitter fans are asking about you. You want to say something to them?’ Xander shoved his phone under her nose.

She froze, the familiar wave of shame gripping her as she stared at the phone.

‘Type in any message you want.’

She took the phone and carefully typed in five letters, feeling a quiet sense of triumph when she succeeded. Xander looked at the screen.

‘“Hello”? That’s all you’re going to say to two million fans? Try something sexy and scandalous!’

‘I seriously advise against that if you want to keep working for me, Mr Bryson.’

Ana’s head snapped up at the sound of the deep voice. Bastien stood behind her, his suit jacket hooked over one shoulder, his eyes boring into hers. He looked tired, his face drawn. But no less heartbreakingly gorgeous.

Her insides performed a slow somersault, then kicked her heart into her throat. She wanted to jump to her feet, rush to him, throw herself into his arms. But she remained seated, frozen, even as her heart soared to giddy heights.

Reaching forward, he removed Xander’s phone from her nerveless fingers and tossed it back to him.

A seat miraculously materialised next to her.

He sat. ‘Bon soir, Ana.’

His tone was neutral, his face the impassive mask she’d hoped never to see again. ‘H-Hi,’ she managed to stutter. ‘How was your trip?’

His gaze imprisoned hers. ‘Illuminating. And very necessary.’

Charged silence gripped the table. Someone pressed a champagne glass into Bastien’s hand. Conversation resumed at a much more frenzied pace than before.

Jumbled thoughts flitted through her head—the uppermost being that Bastien was back. She fidgeted, her heart simultaneously aching and lifting with joy every time she looked at him.

He held up a hand for silence in the room. ‘Robin tells me the shoot was a success. I saw the final cut on my way here and I concur. You all deserve praise for a job well done.’

A cheer went up.

‘We’re going next door to the club. You coming?’ Xander asked amid the high-spirited chatter.

‘No, we’re not,’ Bastien answered, his voice low but forceful. ‘We’re leaving.’

Goodbyes were exchanged. Before Ana could draw breath she was in the back of Bastien’s limo, speeding away from the hotel. Silence throbbed for several minutes as the car took them back to the château.

‘Any reason you didn’t want to go to the club?’ she asked, to fill the silence.

His jaw clenched for an infinitesimal moment before he released a breath. ‘I don’t want to go another day without things being settled between us. But we can go if you really want to?’

Deep apprehension filled her heart. ‘Um. No, thanks.’

He merely nodded and returned his gaze to the window. Another five minutes passed. Ana clamped her hands in her lap, hoping to stop their shaking. Her inner quaking she could do nothing about.

‘Bastien...’ she started, not knowing what to say but knowing she had to say something.

He shook his head. ‘Not here. We’ll talk when we get home.’

Home.

Ana was sure he hadn’t realised his slip, but the Château D’Or had become home to her—in a frighteningly short space of time. It was where she’d discovered love and passion. The place where she’d experienced Bastien’s kindness and generosity. It was also the place where, given the chance, she hoped to beg his forgiveness.

The car swung through the wide, imposing gates and she finally recognised the foreboding she’d felt the first time she’d passed through them for what it was. Fate—knowing what was in store for her—had been preparing her for the phenomenon of falling in love. She hoped Fate would be equally kind in granting her a chance to make things right with Bastien.

The car drew to a stop at the foot of the château’s steps. Bastien helped her out, then immediately moved away.

‘I have a quick phone call to make. I’ll come and find you shortly.’

Not what she’d expected, but she could hardly complain. Summoning a smile, she nodded and watched him walk away, the sight of his imposing shoulders, his sleek body, balm to her starving, wounded heart.

She drifted aimlessly from room to room, her mind and her emotions churning. Ending up in the tower room, amidst the last of the filming equipment, Ana cast her mind over that last scene.

After years of living in an emotional vacuum her character had been reunited with her one true love, their commitment cemented by the symbol of love he’d carried with him for years—the priceless diamond.

Dared she tempt the fates and hope that fantasy would become reality? The diamond she could do without. All she wanted was for Bastien to—

‘There you are.’

The rumble of his voice stopped her wishful thoughts. He came forward, and her heart clenched tighter at the look on his face.

* * *

‘I wasn’t sure whether you wanted a drink or not.’ Bastien held out a glass of wine and watched her walk towards him.

His senses roared to life at the sight of her. The four days he’d been away felt like a lifetime. A lifetime during which the fear that he could lose Ana had been a living thing inside him.

For the first few hours after he’d arrived on his parents’ doorstep he’d remained in shocked limbo, reliving the bleak memory of Ana walking away from him over and over. Ironic that the one place he’d striven to stay away from all these years had been the one place where he’d been able to find answers that might help him win back the woman he loved.

‘I...I’m glad you’re back.’

He focused on her, drank her in, imprinted her on his senses. Tried not to reach for her. ‘Are you?’ He needed to be sure.

Watching the rough cut of the ad campaign on the plane, especially that final take filmed in this room, had lodged a heavy stone in his gut.

His rational mind knew it was acting. But watching Ana in the arms of another man had been...difficult. Difficult? It had been hell!

It had also brutally brought home to him that everything had changed. He was no longer detached, no longer able to hold his feelings at bay.

Their pasts were inextricably linked. And, as much as he’d fought it before, he wanted their futures to be linked too.

All he knew was that he wanted Ana. No. It was more than that. He yearned for her. Against everything he’d fought against...every precaution he’d taken...he’d fallen under her spell. And he was ready to fight hard and dirty if need be.

‘Robin tells me you came up with most of the ideas for the ad campaign. That the slogan—“Diamonds by Heidecker...for the Woman Worth Waiting For”—was your idea. Why didn’t you tell me?’

Surprise lit her face, followed by a blush. One shoulder lifted in a shrug. ‘Because it wasn’t. Not entirely, anyway. I just came up with the idea to make it into a...a meaningful story rather than just another run-of-the-mill depiction of a woman wearing expensive diamonds.’

‘“A meaningful story”? You mean a romantic story.’

Her chin tilted. ‘What’s wrong with that? It works, or you wouldn’t have given it your seal of approval.’

‘I like the idea. What I don’t like is the subterfuge.’

A glimmer of hurt crossed her face. ‘There’s no subterfuge, Bastien.’

‘I didn’t see your name anywhere on the script. So someone else is taking the credit for your idea.’

She shrugged. ‘It really is no big deal, Bastien.’

He stepped closer, drawn like a moth to a seductive flame. ‘It is to me. It should be to you. Fight for what you’re owed.’

She licked her lips. ‘Why?’

‘I don’t like the thought of someone taking advantage of you.’

‘Are you putting yourself up as my protector?’

‘Would that be so bad?’ he asked.

Her breath caught. Bastien stared down at her, words crowding his brain. She stared back, her brown eyes deep, probing, breathtaking. Every breath, every nerve, every sinew clamoured for her. He wanted to pull her to him, to feel the soft suppleness of her body against his, to hear her breathe his name.

‘Thank you for hiring the lawyer for me.’

‘It was nothing less than you deserve. I’ll always look out for you.’

Her eyes widened. ‘What are you saying, Bastien?’

‘Do you know where I’ve been these past few days?’

She shook her head.

‘I went to see my parents,’ he said. ‘I drove through the night to Gstaad. We had a long talk.’

A wave of pain darted over her face as she gazed up at him. He forced his free hand into his pocket to stop himself caressing the shadows from her face. Deep inside him something twisted, because he knew her pain was for him.

‘How...how did it go?’

Bastien tried to will away the pain of that confrontation, tried not to remember the emotion that had clogged in his chest at his father’s remorse—‘My weakness destroyed this family...you practically had to raise yourself...forgive me...’

‘It was difficult. There’s been so much blame, so much bitterness. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but the time was long overdue to deal with the past. To make things right with my father. To make things right with you.’ And with the mother he’d discovered cared deeply for him after all.

Ana thrust her glass on to a nearby surface and came closer, her eyes imploring. ‘Bastien, please believe me. I had no idea what sort of pills they were or I’d have never—’ Her voice broke.

Unable to stop himself, he reached for her. ‘You have to stop blaming yourself, Ana. I don’t blame you for that. Neither do my parents. You need to get past that and forgive yourself or we can’t move on.’

Tears glistened in her eyes. Her hand fluttered up, almost touched his, but then veered away to rest against her throat. ‘Move on? What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying the past has overshadowed our lives for long enough. My father has his faults, but he’s more than made up for them these last sixteen years. I didn’t want to see it because I’ve been locked away in that cold gazebo all this time. It took your daring me to break me free. As for my mother...’ He sighed. ‘She knew the pills you gave her weren’t headache pills.’

Her eyes widened. ‘She knew?’

He gave a grim nod. ‘She didn’t go to Verbier with the intention of taking her own life. And she called my father within minutes of taking the pills. So there’s really nothing to forgive you for. Sometimes in the midst of deep trauma you forget the important things. I forgot that for a long time she shielded me from my father’s behaviour. I think that’s why it didn’t make sense that she would try and take her own life. I lost sight of that, but spending time with her reminded me. I think we’ve all paid enough, don’t you?’

Her nod was shaky. Almost as shaky as he felt, standing there, so close to her, every nerve screeching at him to reach for her.

In the end he decided not to fight it.

‘I missed you,’ he said simply. ‘Did you miss me?’

‘I— Yes!’

He gathered her close, kissed her. And everything fell away.

As conversation-stoppers went it was extremely effective. Ana fell into the kiss with the reckless abandon of a skydiver jumping out of a plane.

Except for her there was no parachute. But right at that moment she didn’t care. She had Bastien in her arms, his fierce heart beating underneath her fingertips. The fall would come later. Without Bastien’s love it would hurt. But for now she would glory in the flight.

By the time he’d carried her from the tower room down the stairs to his suite and kicked the door shut, Ana felt delirious with need. Frantically, she tore at his clothes.

‘Patience, cherie,’ he husked in her ear, before nipping her earlobe.

A deep shudder raked through her. ‘I...I can’t. I need you,’ she gasped.

He stilled her frantic hands, kissing them before bringing them to her sides. ‘And you will have me,’ he vowed heatedly. ‘But first let me undress you.’

His eyes on hers, he released the catch in her belt and dropped it. Then he sank onto his knees. His hands traced her hips, her delicate pelvic bones, squeezed her bottom. Ana moaned, reaching out to steady herself on his broad shoulders as his fingers explored the bare flesh of her thighs. Her whole body hid a morass of sensitive nerve-endings she’d never known existed.

Take the skin above the back of her knees, for instance. Who knew Bastien’s hand lingering there could cause her to cry out in pleasure? Or the mid point between her calf and her ankle? He seemed to know her body better than she did.

By the time he eased her feet from her heels she could barely stand. Her dress came off in a rustle of silk. She stood before him in a thong and matching bra.

Eyes the colour of molten steel raked over her. ‘I was a fool to say I only wanted one night with you,’ he rasped, one hand moving around her to snap the catch of her bra. It tumbled to the ground, unheeded.

‘Why?’ she croaked.

‘Because one night would never be enough, ma belle Ana.’ He rose and caught her in his arms, locking one hand in her hair to tilt her face to his. ‘Never enough.’

He rained kisses all over her face, his mouth almost worshipful. Nonetheless those kisses lit fires wherever they touched, making her senses whirl with desire and, yes, love. What had happened before she’d discovered her feelings had been sex.

This, for her, was making love.

She touched him, revelled in his growl of pleasure when she encountered bare skin. It took a moment for her to realise he was naked; that she was lying on top of him in his bed. The heavy throb of his erection against her belly sent a surge of need through her. She wanted him to fill her body, to fill her heart.

But first she wanted to explore him the way she’d never had the chance to before. Freeing herself from his kiss, Ana kissed along his jaw, nipped the tight flesh. His breath exploded from his lungs, his hands tightening on her back as she kissed her way down his throat, his deep chest. His flat, washboard stomach clenched as her lips and hands worshipped him.