She was completely at his mercy and he knew it. He’d remained completely unruffled by her outburst, his unblinking gaze fixed on her.
‘I can’t afford that sum of money,’ she added, just in case he’d missed her meaning before.
‘You’re a top model and a tabloid darling. I find it intriguing that you don’t even have the money to bail yourself out of jail.’
‘What I use my money for is none of your business. And surely you don’t believe everything you read in the papers?’
His teeth bared in a mockery of a smile that made the hairs twitch on her nape. ‘I’ve learned, much to my regret, that there’s almost never any smoke without fire. One way or the other, Miss Duval, you’ll have to account to me at some point. Hate me all you like, but that’s the reality.’
Without waiting for a reaction he flipped open his phone. The conversation flowed in rapid, flawless French. It carried on for almost fifteen minutes and the whole time Ana’s heart pounded, the feeling of being completely immersed in her worst nightmare growing stronger by the minute.
In three weeks she had to return to court and fight drug possession charges. In the meantime she had to wait and see how the fall-out of this latest tabloid scandal would affect her. Not that she was a stranger to scandal. For as long as she could remember her mother had made sure to be caught in one on a regular basis—just to keep herself in the limelight. And if it happened to involve her supermodel daughter in some way, all the better.
Was it any wonder men like Bastien had the wrong idea about her?
Suddenly she yearned to speak to her father. To hear his calm, soothing voice. He was the one anchor she clung to when things got bad. But he was in the middle of the Amazonian jungle and their fortnightly phone call wasn’t scheduled for several days.
‘We’re here.’
Bastien thrust the door open and stepped out. Blinking at the brilliant sunlight pouring in, Ana looked out onto a private airstrip.
She’d been so engrossed in the turbulent emotions Bastien aroused in her he might have driven her all the way to Outer Mongolia and she would have been none the wiser.
She glanced at the huge, gleaming jet sitting metres from the car and her heart sank. The Heidecker Corporation’s blue and gold logo emblazoned on the tail brought home to her just how easily she could be crushed by the entity she’d taken on.
But then David had triumphed against Goliath...
She suppressed a bubble of hysteria and watched Bastien’s strong, lengthy stride to the foot of the plane’s steps, where his pilot waited.
She’d never wanted to fight with Bastien. From their first meeting sixteen years ago she’d tried to find friendly common ground with him, despite the dreadful irony of their circumstances. She’d tried myriad ways to prove that she wasn’t his enemy, that they could be friends even as her mother was tearing his family apart. Deep down she’d known he’d resented her—not for her presence in his life, but because behind his chilly façade she’d been able to see the pain that echoed her own. She’d desperately wanted to reach him, to soothe away his pain in the hope that he would do the same for her.
How foolish she’d been...
She stepped out of the car and paused when another vehicle screeched to a halt beside her.
An excited Simone sprang from the vehicle and raced towards her.
‘Oh, Ana, I’m so glad you’re all right! When I heard what had happened I was horrified for you.’
Melodramatically she flung her arms around Ana. Two years younger than Ana, Simone Pascale had arrived in London six months ago from her native France and they’d ended up sharing a flat when Ana had accepted that living with her mother was no longer a viable option.
‘And then these strange men turned up. At first I didn’t know what to think. I mean, I was still super-excited for you and everything, because it’s not, like, every day your flatmate leaves to shack up with a multi-billionaire—’
Ana pulled away. ‘What? I’m not leaving to shack up with anyone. Whatever gave you that idea?’
Simone’s over-bright blue eyes widened. ‘But the pictures outside the court... And the paps were outside the flat, asking me if I knew how long you two had been a couple. I mean, c’est très romantique, non?’
Dread crept up Ana’s spine. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Bastien watching her, eyes narrowed. ‘Simone, what did you say to the reporters?’ she whispered urgently.
‘I said it was the best news ever and that I wished you much happiness... Mon Dieu, are you all right?’
Ana swallowed the sickening bile that had risen in her throat. She reached blindly to reassure Simone and felt her wrist being taken in a firm hold. Heat sizzled up her arm, electrifying her senses and reminding her of her weakness when it came to Bastien.
She pulled at her wrist. He held on tighter.
‘What’s going on here?’ Steel underlined his voice.
‘Nothing,’ Ana interjected quickly, before Simone got a chance to spread her unwelcome news.
Bastien had barely tolerated being linked to her professionally. A romantic link would be even more abhorrent to him.
‘I was just thanking Simone for helping me out.’ Ana stared hard at Simone, who stood gaping at Bastien like a stunned fish.
‘Do you have Miss Duval’s passport?’ Bastien asked her.
Rummaging through her bag, Simone located it and handed it over to him.
‘Merci. That will be all.’
Ana glared at him for the pointed dismissal and turned to Simone. ‘I’ll give you a call later.’
Simone nodded and hugged her again. ‘Hang on to him, Ana. He’s absolutely magnifique!’ she whispered feverishly.
‘Let’s go. I don’t want us to miss our flight slot.’ Bastien’s impatient tone matched his stride across the tarmac.
She hurried up the steps, acutely aware of the shortness of her dress.
Once inside, she just stopped and gaped.
She’d flown in a few private planes with her job, but nothing had come close to the level of luxury accosting her senses now.
Royal blue carpeting stretched as far as the eye could see. Cream club chairs flanked both sides of the aircraft, separated by smooth marble tables on which stood exquisite flower displays and stylish lamps. The shades had been half pulled down over the windows to limit the glare of the late-afternoon sun and the atmosphere inside the craft was one of superb and seriously lavish comfort.
Ana would have been excited at being in such surroundings but for the darts of apprehension racing up and down her spine as once again the sensation of stepping into danger engulfed her.
A stewardess approached, a smile on her face as she greeted them and relieved her of Bastien’s jacket. Weirdly, she felt exposed both inside and out without it. Pushing the feeling away, she murmured her thanks.
Bastien guided her into a chair and sat opposite her, his long legs stretched out on either side of her, imprisoning hers. She clamped her thighs together immediately, her senses screeching their awareness of him.
She thought of changing seats, then impatiently dismissed the idea. As long as he was close there would be no getting away from the discordant emotions bubbling underneath her skin. He’d always had that effect on her. Same as she knew she had an unsettling effect on him. Besides, she refused to let him intimidate her.
She glanced out of the window, feigning interest in the cargo trucks moving around a