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She bit her lip and quickly summarised what had happened to her, knowing that her father didn’t keep up with current affairs on his dig in Colombia but not wanting to risk him finding out anyway.
‘How did this happen, Ana?’ he asked in the softly modulated voice that could turn steely when needed.
‘I don’t know, but I didn’t do it.’
‘Sí, I know that,’ he said impatiently. ‘But you need to find out who wishes you such harm and deal with it.’
His unequivocal belief in her innocence brought a lump to her throat. Taking a few seconds, she cleared it. ‘I intend to. Um...about the internship...’
‘Make things right in your world. I will make things right here.’
The lump threatened to choke her again. ‘Thank you, Papá.’
She 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.
