The Best Of The Year - Modern Romance. Annie West

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СКАЧАТЬ Thank you, Bastien.’ On pure impulse she reached for his arm. ‘I really appreciate it.’

      Packed muscle flexed beneath her touch, his cotton shirt and dark sweater no barrier against the warmth that seeped through to her fingers. Instant fiery desire made her fingers curl, and the irrational urge to keep touching him unfurled inside her like a driving, persistent hunger.

      She didn’t know how long she stayed like that. Seconds. Minutes. Time lost meaning and rational thought fled as she stared at his profile—his gorgeous face, his taut cheekbones, those unspeakably long, golden lashes and the lush mouth that had taken such powerful control of hers. His strong throat...

      And his tense jaw...within which a muscle flicked.

       Dirty little things...dirty little things...

      Ana snatched back her hand, certain she was sliding into madness. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have... I didn’t mean to—’

      ‘Don’t apologise, cherie. Believe it or not, I don’t hate it when you touch me. If anything, I like it a little too much.’

      His husky rasp cut through her words. She gasped, but before she could reply he continued.

      ‘We’re here.’

      They drove through tall iron gates housed in a stone arch that looked as if it had been around since medieval times. Endless trees stretched over them like silent sentinels as they made their way up the drive.

      Unbidden, a shiver passed through her. The feeling of foreboding she’d experienced this morning returned—forcefully this time. Calling herself all kinds of fool for entertaining it, she brushed it away.

      Once the photo shoot and her trial were over she’d be free of Bastien, free to fulfil her dreams. Perhaps this sense of standing on the edge of a precipice was merely subconscious exhilaration at her impending freedom.

      Clinging to that, Ana straightened in her seat.

      At her first glimpse, she knew why the château had gained its name.

      It stood like a shimmering mirage on top of a small hill, a wonderful surprise at the end of a copse of trees. Bathed in mellow light, the yellow stone would look golden in any light—day or night.

      ‘Wow, it’s breathtaking.’

      ‘Yes, it is.’ He turned off the ignition. ‘Welcome to Château D’Or,’ he said, and thrust his door open.

      She followed suit, unable to take her eyes off the stunning building. Set on three storeys, with elegant dormer windows that would give amazing views over the valley they’d just climbed out of, the château looked like every girl’s childhood dream castle. It came complete with a west-facing flagged and turreted tower built to capture the perfect sunset.

      A large wooden door hewn from oak opened, drawing Ana’s attention from the tower. A small-framed woman greeted them, her smile warming when she saw Bastien.

      ‘This is Chantal. She manages the château and its gardens with her husband. Their son and daughter-in-law help in the stables and look after the horses.’

      ‘You have horses?’ Ana asked, after returning Chantal’s greeting.

      Bastien paused where he was unloading their luggage. ‘You ride?’ Surprise tinged his voice.

      ‘I used to. We lived on a ranch in Brazil for six months.’

      He tensed. ‘We?’

      She ignored the tautness in his voice. ‘Lily and I spent time there.’ Until her mother’s Brazilian lover ditched her. But by then Ana had had a love of horses firmly entrenched in her heart.

      ‘Why did you leave?’ Bastien asked. The strain was gone from his voice, had been replaced by gentle speculation.

      ‘It didn’t work out. What kind of horses do you keep?’ she asked quickly, eager to escape the subject of her mother.

      He slammed the boot shut, picked up their cases. ‘The best kind.’ He smiled. ‘If you’re really interested, I’ll show you in the morning.’

      Again his unexpected offer threw her. ‘Yes, please.’

      The next half-hour was spent touring the château, and each high-ceilinged, history-rich room revealed was even more spectacular than the last. By the time Chantal showed Ana to her room—complete with lace-curtained four-poster bed—she’d fallen in love with Château D’Or.

      Bastien entered with her suitcase just as the housekeeper left. ‘Is everything satisfactory?’

      ‘More than—thanks.’

      ‘If you’re hungry Chantal can fix you a light meal?’ he offered.

      ‘No, I’m fine. Thanks.’

      He stood there, hands in his back pockets. He’d changed after dinner into a pair of jeans and boots and over his shirt he wore a grey cashmere sweater. With his windblown hair he easily carried off a rugged look that might have graced the cover of any fashion magazine.

      She looked up and her gaze collided with his. His lips quirked in a parody of a smile. She’d been caught staring again. Would she never learn?

      ‘I think I’ll have an early night.’

      He nodded and turned for the door. ‘Good idea. Anything that keeps you out of trouble is most welcome,’ he drawled.

      Unable to resist, she grabbed the nearest pillow and flung it at his back, then giggled madly when he turned, surprise darkening his grey eyes.

      He picked up the pillow and walked back to her. ‘The trouble with pillow fights, cherie, is that they lead to so much else. So pick your battles carefully.’ He pressed the pillow into her chest and drew her arms around it. ‘Bon nuit, Ana,’ he murmured, then left.

      Ana sank onto the bed, her breath fizzing out of her like a deflating balloon. Her body thrummed with a thousand volts of electricity, and her whirling mind was in no state to settle down to sleep.

      He might have left her room, but she could still feel him—could still smell Bastien. His presence dominated her thoughts, charged the very air she breathed.

      For a few hours Bastien had been civil, even gentle at times. His apology at dinner and his offer to investigate her drug charge had made her wonder what he might be like if they didn’t have such a chequered and miserable past.

      But then the foreboding returned—thick and more urgent than before. Perhaps they were better off as they were, because she has an unshakable feeling that he would be much more dangerous to her emotional wellbeing unless she kept him at arm’s length.

      * * *

      The sound of a car door slamming woke her. Stretching, Ana opened her eyes, disorientated until memory rushed back.

      Thrusting aside the sheets, she went to the window.

      Lake Geneva gleamed like a silver ribbon, so close she could almost reach out and СКАЧАТЬ