The Best Of The Year - Modern Romance. Annie West

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СКАЧАТЬ returned to her room, still caught in a cross-current of emotion but forcing herself to shrug it off and deal with her predicament. She might be stuck in Switzerland for the time being, but she wasn’t helpless.

      Two hours later she threw her phone down in frustration and hugged her knees. The few trusted friends she’d made in the business couldn’t shed any light on what had happened.

      Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she’d gone all day without a meal. She reached for the phone again just as a knock sounded on her door.

      Glancing down at herself, she debated whether to change. The thought of donning her suit again made her grimace. Bastien had already seen her like this. And she was wearing a bra this time.

      With a deep breath that failed to replenish her oxygen-deprived lungs, she pulled the door open.

      He stood tall and imposing, his face impassive as he surveyed her. She’d expected another disparaging comment about her state of dress, but his gaze merely skimmed over her loose hair and unmade-up face.

      ‘Have you eaten?’ he asked.

      ‘No.’

      ‘Dinner is being delivered to my suite in ten minutes. Will you join me?’

      ‘I was just about to order Room Service.’ She didn’t want to risk going head to head with him again; their last exchange was still very vivid in her mind.

      A smile flashed on and off. ‘I’ve saved you the trouble, then. We have things to discuss. I’ll see you in five minutes.’ Without waiting for a reply, he sauntered off.

      Knowing it was pointless to argue, she returned to her bedroom, applied a coat of lip-gloss, slipped on high-heeled sandals and brushed her hair. Tucking her key card into her pocket, she left her suite.

      His was the only other suite on this floor, and when she pushed the open door wider he motioned for her to enter.

      Decorated in identical tones of gold and blue, his suite was much grander than hers. Gilt-edged mirrors adorned the walls and an impressive fireplace rested beneath an ornate mantelpiece. Gold velvet curtains had been caught back with blue velvet rope, and beyond the window the lights on the lake twinkled in the falling dusk. But what caught her eye, as it had earlier in the day, was the plume of water, now backlit with a stunning array of lights.

      ‘What is that fountain?’

      ‘The Jet d’Eau. The highest water fountain in the world.’ He spoke in a clipped staccato, as if he had other things on his mind.

      About to comment on the jet’s beauty, Ana stopped and turned. The intensity of his stare made the hairs twitch on her nape.

      ‘This was left downstairs for you.’ He held a square brown envelope in his hand.

      Ana’s mind blanked for a second, then she remembered. ‘Why do you have it?’

      ‘The concierge said it was delivered moments before I came. I told him I’d deliver it to you.’

      ‘How kind of you.’ She held out her hand. ‘Can I have it?’

      ‘What’s in the envelope, Ana?’ he asked tersely.

      Shock battled with a sensation curiously similar to a delicious thrill of pleasure. A second later she realised Bastien hadn’t even noticed that he’d used her first name. Out of nowhere came a deep yearning to hear him call her Ana again. But not like that. She wanted him to say her name and mean it. She wanted him to say her name with pleasure.

      Ruthlessly, she pushed the fanciful thought away. That was never going to happen. Desolation settled deep within her.

      ‘You open it,’ she prompted softly.

      A flicker of surprise lit his eyes. Perhaps he’d been expecting her to fight him. But some time in the last few hours Ana had decided that if they were to spend the next three weeks together she couldn’t keep locking horns with him. Her control wouldn’t sustain the battering.

      ‘If you want to know what’s in the envelope, open it.’

      He ripped it open immediately. Ana watched his eyes widen as he encountered the cold plastic. His gaze shot down and he stared at the object in his hand.

      ‘I asked your company doctor this morning if he could replace my inhaler. He promised to have it delivered here this afternoon.’

      The doorbell rang. Bastien didn’t seem to hear it. He continued to stare at the inhaler.

      Ana went to walk past him to get the door. His hand shot out and grabbed her arm. A frown creased his brow.

      ‘Ana...’

      She sighed. ‘I’m sorry if that disappoints you. But it really is just an inhaler.’

      The bell rang again. She pulled at her arm.

      He let her go.

      With a cold lump of despair lodged in her chest, Ana answered the door.

      * * *

      Bastien raked a hand through his hair, the unsettling feeling from this afternoon surging higher. He glanced down again at the inhaler. The stark reminder that Ana had a potentially life-threatening condition made his chest tighten.

      All afternoon he’d tried not to think about their conversation—tried not to admit to himself that her words held any truth. No one had dared challenge him on why he refused to let emotion rule his life. Until her.

      He’d remained in a foul mood right up until he’d been handed that package downstairs. Then it had taken a turn for the worse.

      Remorse stung deep now, unnerving him further. When had he ever felt the need to apologise for anything? Yet now the urge to make things right needled him.

      He stood aside to let the waiter wheel the trolley into the dining room. Ana followed, her lush figure swaying seductively. She was wearing those damned jeans again. The sight of the exposed lower curve of her bottom made him swallow. Hard. Fire roared through his blood as his gaze touched on more bare flesh.

      His gaze travelled upwards, taking in the indentation of her slender waist and the golden triangles of skin exhibited there too. When he saw the straps of her flesh-coloured bra the fire raged into an inferno. Yesterday she’d forgone the bra—no doubt to avoid a fashion faux pas the way some women went without underwear to avoid a visible panty line. So why did the sight of the bra inflame his senses so much more than its absence had?

      He forced his gaze away from temptation. Unfortunately the waiter had no such compunction, his gaze openly appreciative.

      ‘C’est tout,’ Bastien snarled. He stalked him to the door, barely resisting the urge to slam it, and returned to find Ana seated, lifting the lid on the dishes.

      ‘This looks delicious. I’m absolutely starving.’

      ‘Then help yourself,’ he replied. His voice was terse but he couldn’t help it. Shock, confusion and intense desire tended to do that to a man. Sustained for long periods of time, who СКАЧАТЬ