The Best Of The Year - Modern Romance. Annie West

phone call every three months and a card at Christmas—that close.’ Pain darted through her chest and she rubbed at the spot.

      He frowned. ‘So why does she manage your career?’

      ‘Believe it or not, she’s an astute businesswoman when the occasion demands it. As a former model herself, her insight into the business has come in handy on occasion.’

      Expecting a censorious reply, she glanced at Bastien and saw him nod thoughtfully.

      ‘Have you been in touch with her lately?’

      ‘She called yesterday to offer advice on how to manage my predicament, as it happens.’

      His eyebrows rose. ‘And what did that entail?’

      ‘She told me not to get emotionally involved with you.’ And for once Ana intended to take her mother’s advice.

      He drew his horse to a halt. ‘And your response was...?’ he rasped.

      ‘To say there was little risk of that happening.’

      A look crossed his face—part displeasure, part relief. Then he blinked his expression back into neutral. ‘Did she offer up any thoughts as who might have planted the drugs?’

      Her head snapped up. ‘No—why would she?’

      ‘As you said, she has more experience in the modelling world than you do. I’d have thought she’d be fighting to prove your innocence, even if only professionally?’

      ‘Like I said, we don’t have the closest relationship. And, no, it’s not perfect, but as we both know life rarely ever is.’ Digging her heels into Rebelle’s side, she set off at a trot.

      He caught up with her easily and they rode until they came to a small stream. Dismounting, he took her reins, tied them around a tree and then turned to her. Reading his intention, Ana tried to dismount quickly, but he beat her to it.

      He caught her before she could lower herself to the ground. His hands easily encompassed her waist, and the heat of his touch dangerously whittled away her efforts to remain unaffected by him. His scent suffused her senses, his powerful aura closing over her.

      ‘The subject of your mother distresses you,’ he said into the still air.

      Again that hint of gentleness that threatened to undo her.

      She couldn’t look at him, so she concentrated on caressing Rebelle’s flank. ‘Before yesterday I didn’t find it easy to admit that she lacks the most fundamental maternal instincts.’

      ‘What happened yesterday?’

      ‘I’m not entirely sure, but she sounded almost...concerned.’

      ‘A child’s hope is a very tough thing to kill.’

      ‘Are you speaking of you or me?’

      His mouth pursed. ‘Mine died a long time ago.’

      A harsh laugh escaped her. ‘Are you sure? Sometimes the heart wants what the heart wants.’

      He stilled completely. Ana could almost hear him clinically analysing her words. ‘Then perhaps you should listen to your head and not your heart.’

      Unable to stop herself, she turned and looked into his eyes. ‘Is that what you do? Shut off your feelings whenever it suits you?’

      His hand tightened, albeit imperceptibly. ‘I feel. I just don’t let blind emotion get in the way of my better judgement.’

      ‘Then bravo to you.’ She forced a teasing tone. ‘And I totally get the feeling that blind emotion wouldn’t try to get in your way. It would run screaming in the other direction when it saw you coming.’

      ‘I can live with that.’

      She frowned at his bleak tone and glanced up to see a wave of pain wash over his face before his expression blanked again.

      A wave of sadness surged out of nowhere. ‘Bastien, are you okay?’

      His mouth twisted in a parody of a smile. ‘Of course. Come. There’s a view I want to show you.’

      His breath whispered over her ear, his low voice a deep rumble over her sensitive nerve-endings.

      She followed him through a tall stand of birches, trying to take pleasure in birdsong and warm sunshine. But all she could think of was Bastien’s expression and his bleak reply.

      His long strides carried them along a narrow path to a small clearing where the trees ended on a wide natural ledge cut into the hillside. Moving alongside him, Ana took a stunned breath. The valley was spread out in picture-perfection below her. The view extended all way to the lake, with the château a golden vision amongst the rolling green. Dazzling in the morning light, with nothing around for miles, it resembled something out of a child’s fairytale. Or a woman’s dream come true.

      Beside her, Bastien took a deep breath, a look almost of contentment on his face.

      ‘Why did you bring me here?’ she asked.

      He shrugged. ‘I thought you might want to see it.’ His gaze met hers briefly before he looked away.

      ‘The château has stunning views at every turn. But this is your favourite view, isn’t it?’ she asked intuitively.

      He smiled. ‘Yes,’ he said simply.

      Something warm, soft, unfurled in her chest...she was inordinately pleased that he’d shared this moment with her.

      She pointed to a summit in the distance. ‘What are those peaks? They look like...’

      ‘Horns? They’re called Les Diablerets—the devil’s horns.’

      Ana grinned. ‘Very apt. Thanks for showing me this view. I think it would make a stunning backdrop for the shoot.’

      His face blanked, his smile disappearing. ‘The shoot?’ he repeated coolly.

      She gestured to the landscape. ‘Yes, the castle in Scotland was beautiful, but this is absolutely breathtaking. I think it’s perfect, actually.’

      ‘Of course,’ he intoned, his voice flat.

      Ana glanced at him and her smile faltered. ‘It was your idea to relocate the shoot here, Bastien.’

      ‘I’m aware of that.’

      ‘Then why do I feel I’ve just stepped on a landmine by referring to it?’

      His jaw clenched. ‘C’est rien. It’s nothing.’ He turned and headed back to the horses. He helped her up, handed over her reins, then mounted his horse.

      Thick silence cloaked them until she couldn’t stand it any more.

      ‘Did you grow up here?’

      At first she thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he nodded. ‘When my grandfather bought the château it was in ruins. He restored it brick by brick and lived here his whole life. My father kept it because it was close to the city.’

      ‘Not because of its sentimental value?’ Ana joked, secretly wishing back the smile she’d glimpsed on the hilltop.

      His face remained impassive. ‘Sentiment has little place in business in the twenty-first century.’

      ‘So why do you keep it, then?’

      Her question seemed to surprise him. ‘It’s a good investment.’

      ‘Emotionally or financially?’

      Cool grey eyes fastened on her. His horse, sensing his altered mood, whickered anxiously. ‘Don’t try to psychoanalyse me, Ana,’ he warned softly.

      ‘Because you’re such an enigma?’

      His eyes glittered. ‘On the contrary, I’m a very simple man. I know what I want.