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‘“Hello”? That’s all you’re going to say to two million fans? Try something sexy and scandalous!’
‘I seriously advise against that if you want to keep working for me, Mr Bryson.’
Ana’s head snapped up at the sound of the deep voice. Bastien stood behind her, his suit jacket hooked over one shoulder, his eyes boring into hers. He looked tired, his face drawn. But no less heartbreakingly gorgeous.
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.
