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