The Best Of The Year - Modern Romance. Annie West

the cost of the Armani skirt suit, chosen hurriedly from the hotel’s boutique last night, would put a serious dent in her finances, she’d had no choice. Facing Bastien’s board members wearing anything from her suitcase wasn’t an option.

      A knock signalled the arrival of breakfast, although eating was the last thing she felt like doing.

      Bastien’s taut silence after that incident in the car last night gave her little hope that he’d be any different today. He’d closed down, shutting her out as effectively as he’d done at fifteen.

      On arrival at their luxurious hotel he’d left her outside her suite with an order to be ready at nine. But sleep had been elusive, and her long, restless night had been spent reliving that kiss and how she would survive the next three weeks in the emotional cauldron that was being around Bastien.

      Another knock fractured her thoughts. She let the waiter in and he wheeled a trolley underneath the window facing a picturesque view of Lake Geneva.

      In the early-morning light the Alps and Mont Blanc rose majestically in the distance, the rolling range curving almost protectively around the city. She’d travelled to other parts of Switzerland on photo shoots but had never visited its best-known city.

      Ana sat down at the table...forced herself to eat two pieces of buttered toast and a mouthful of scrambled eggs. It was just as she lifted the glass of orange juice that she spotted it.

      A newspaper was tucked underneath the napkin, and on its front page was her picture. Only it wasn’t just her picture. The photo showed her in Bastien’s arms, emerging from the court yesterday. Showed the way she’d clung to him like a limpet, her eyes closed and her face buried in his neck as if...as if he was her protector.

       God...

      But that wasn’t the worst of it. It was the look on Bastien’s face that made her hands shake as she unfolded the paper.

      What she could understand of the caption froze her blood.

       Heidecker’s New Love. Is He the Cure for this Drug-Addicted Supermodel?

      

      Skimming the article, she desperately tried to recognise enough words to understand what the article said. Her horror grew as she spotted Simone’s name repeatedly. Her breakfast surged upwards, making a bid for freedom.

      She barely made it to the bathroom before she emptied her stomach’s contents. Trembling from head to toe, she wrenched at the tap, rinsed her mouth, then clutched the sink, eyes squeezed shut, struggling to breathe.

      This was the absolute last thing she needed...

      Standing there, propped against the sink, she didn’t realise the pounding wasn’t just in her head until she heard her name called out.

      ‘Open the door, Miss Duval.’

      Heart leaping into her throat, she prised her fingers from the cold porcelain and approached the bathroom door.

      She cracked it open. ‘What do you want, Bastien?’

      He surged into the room. ‘What took you so long?’

      A few smart answers rose to her lips but she smothered the more hysterical ones when she caught his frown. ‘What...?’

      ‘You look pale. Are you all right?’ He laid a hand against her forehead.

      For several seconds she couldn’t speak. ‘I’m fine,’ she finally managed. ‘How did you get in here?’

      ‘This hotel belongs to me.’ He dropped his hand. ‘HH Geneva is one of several hotels owned by my bank.’

      The HH Group—Heidecker Hotels—was renowned for its understated opulence, was yet another feather in the Heidecker cap...a fact she’d missed with her weariness last night.

      ‘It doesn’t explain what you’re doing in my room,’ she replied, cringing as she wondered whether he’d heard her retching.

      ‘I told you to be ready at nine—that was five minutes ago. When you didn’t answer your door I let myself in. Don’t fret. If I’d hoped to catch you naked I’d have turned up an hour ago as you took your shower.’

      ‘Careful, there, Bastien, or I’ll add Peeping Tom to your list of unsavoury characteristics.’

      That earned her a mocking look as he returned to the sitting room and crossed to the open suite door. He didn’t slam it. Yet the decisive snick of the lock and a glimpse of what he held in his fist sent a shaft of pure, unadulterated dread through her.

      He unfurled another newspaper. The front-page picture was the same as on hers, but the language was different.

      ‘Tell me what you know about this,’ he invited softly.

      ‘If you’re asking if I’ve seen the paper, yes—I have.’ Her eyes inadvertently slid to the breakfast table. Her heart sank as he followed her movement.

      The temperature in the room dropped another degree. ‘Of course you have. Did you salivate over it before or after you had your breakfast?’

      ‘Excuse me?’

      He ignored her outrage. ‘How much are the tabloids paying you for this?’

      ‘What? You’re insane if you think I had something to do with this!’

      ‘So you deny you had anything to do with this rubbish?’

      ‘Absolutely I do,’ she stressed.

      ‘Then tell me what you were hatching with your flatmate on the tarmac yesterday.’

      Ana’s mouth dropped open. No words emerged and she knew her guilt was stamped on her forehead. Belatedly, she tried damage limitation. ‘Seriously, it was nothing like that—’

      ‘Do you take me for a fool?’

      ‘Only if you believe everything you read in the paper!’ The volatility of her words hit home the moment they left her lips. She surged on, regardless. ‘Bastien, think about this. What could I possibly have to gain by pulling this stunt?’

      He crumpled the paper and tossed it down on the nearby coffee table. It missed and landed on the floor.

      Slowly, with the precision of an Alpine wolf on a blood trail, he stalked her until he stood so close she could see the pulse leaping in his temple, smell the mixture of fury and his unique masculine scent.

      Nothing promised an upside to this situation.

      ‘Right now you need someone to fight your corner. Who better than the CEO of the company that’s about to turf you out on your ass?’

      She stared back, unable to look away from the hypnotic intensity of his eyes. ‘So you’ve decided, then?’

      ‘After this stunt I’d be a fool not to cut you loose,’ he replied.

      ‘Believe what you will. I had nothing to do with this article, whatever it says.’

      His eyes narrowed. ‘You’re now pretending you don’t know its contents?’

      Realising what she’d almost let slip, she pursed her lips. Besides her father, who’d been horrified when she’d finally confessed her secret and immediately fought to make things right, and her mother, who’d been the cause of it, no one else knew.

      ‘I stopped reading any stuff written about me a long time ago.’ The lie made her cringe, but it was way better than the shameful truth. ‘Maybe if you tell me which part so concerns you I can address it.’

      Bastien’s brows slowly lifted, incredulity darkening his eyes to gunmetal. ‘Which part so concerns me? Let’s see—how about the part that suggests we’ve been lovers for the best part of six months? No, actually, that doesn’t concern me too much—although it suggests I don’t mind sharing my woman with