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As if she’d read his thoughts she parted her lips. Desire arrowed straight to his groin, leaving him as weak as a day-old kitten. That in itself was such a shock he couldn’t move for several seconds.
In all his affairs no woman had ever brought such an intense, debilitating feeling to him. Such...freedom. As if he was poised on the brink of some cataclysmic discovery.
Pour l’amour de Dieu. He stepped back into the boat and retrieved the basket. All this idle time was addling his brain. Facts. Figures. Cut-throat negotiations. That was what he needed. Not Ana back in his bed. That was not going to happen.
They entered the château through the kitchen, where Chantal was putting groceries away in the large pantry. He thanked her for the picnic and left the basket on the counter.
As he turned to leave, he caught sight of a tiny picture by the window. Stunned, he moved towards it, even though the image was one he remembered very well.
It was his father, his mother and himself on the pier, taken when he was five or six. They all looked so...happy. He picked up the picture, rubbing his hand across the dusty surface.
‘I kept it from...before,’ Chantal said from just behind his shoulder. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’
Before... When he’d moved back here and ordered everything that reminded him of his parents to be boxed up and shipped to Gstaad.
Without warning, Ana’s words echoed in his mind. ‘You’re letting the sins of your parent shape the way you live your life.’
He set the picture down, fighting endless waves of disquiet. But this time the righteous anger that usually fuelled his bitterness was missing. Was she right? Had he let what had happened sixteen years ago dictate the way he lived?
He turned. Ana stood in the doorway, her eyes seeking, her skin pale.
That jolt came again—harder than before. The chocolate depths were clear, fringed by lashes so thick and luxurious most women would kill to own them.
As if she couldn’t stand his blatant scrutiny she dropped her lids. That didn’t stop the arresting power of her face. His gaze moved down to the sensual curve of her lips and his chest tightened. How many times during the night had he tasted their sweetness? Yet he craved another taste so badly he could barely breathe.
He watched as colour rose in her cheeks. Knowing she wasn’t over this crazy chemistry between them either did nothing to ease his suffering.
Get a grip.
‘I need to clean up,’ she said.
Relief poured through him. ‘Okay. We’ll talk later.’
When he’d had a chance to regroup.
He went straight to his study and poured himself a brandy. Taking it to the terrace, he watched the sun set on his favourite lake. Nothing in the scene soothed him the way it normally did.
Prowling to the edge of the terrace, he lifted his face to the cool breeze washing in from the water.
His work was his life. Had been for as long as he could remember. Yet what he yearned for now, above everything else, was to be upstairs with Ana, losing himself in her body. Even the ‘we need to talk’ that normally sent him running didn’t eradicate this intense need to be with her.
He was definitely losing it!
Knocking back the rest of the drink, he returned to his study.
He entered the words into the search engine of his laptop and read through the information that came up. Satisfied he’d found what he needed, he closed the programme, then paused mid-stretch as he heard Ana’s voice in the hallway.
He’d lunged towards the door before he’d fully recognised his intentions.
She’d changed into a dark orange shift dress that set off her golden skin so spectacularly he had to shove his hands into his pockets to stop them from reaching for her. Her loose dark hair rippled with vitality, caressed one cheek as she turned. Slim fingers tucked the strands behind her ears, a small smile appearing on her lips when she saw him.
‘Are you hungry?’
She grimaced. ‘Not really. My appetite seems to have taken a hike.’
She started walking towards the library. He fell into step beside her, opened the door and let her precede him, trying not to get too lost in her subtle perfume. Feeling like a geeky teenager caught gawping at the hottest girl in class, he plucked the nearest book from the shelf and cleared his throat.
‘I have something for you. Come.’
