The Best Of The Year - Modern Romance. Annie West

stared at him, standing so tall, proud and heartbreakingly gorgeous. Weeks of restless nights when her dreams had been so vivid that on waking to find she’d only been dreaming she’d burst into tears more than once didn’t do justice to the reality of him. And, even though his face lacked some of the vitality she loved, he was still the most magnificent man in the world.

      A magnificent man who would never return her love.

      She turned away.

      ‘You didn’t do anything, Bastien. It was me.’

      Bastien stopped himself from reaching for her again, compelling her to look at him. ‘Whatever it is, tell me. I can take it.’ A blatant lie. He wouldn’t be able to take it if she rejected him.

      A delicate frown creased her forehead. He wanted to smooth it away, to touch her once more. Her skin had darkened in the Colombian sun, making her more alluring if that was possible. Her beauty enthralled him, made him want to kneel at her feet in worship. But he needed to keep his wits about him. Needed to stay sane. Because he was fighting for his life. Fighting for the woman he loved above anything else in his life.

      Her tongue snuck out to wet her lips. ‘What we had was great but it wasn’t enough. I’m sorry.’

      His vision frayed and he gripped the back of the chair. ‘What are you talking about?’

      Her finger traced a delicate path on the rickety table. ‘I want more.’

      ‘I will give you more. Just tell me how.’

      She stared at him for a few heartbeats, then her lids descended, her lush lashes shielding her eyes from him. Unable to stand not touching her, Bastien moved and tucked her hair behind one ear. Her breath caught.

      ‘Bastien, I can’t tell you how to feel. If you don’t already feel it...you’re better off without me—’

      ‘No, I’m nothing without you! What we had... Ana, it was the closest thing to heaven that I’ve ever known.’ Her eyes widened. Bastien fell deeper, even as his desperation grew. ‘I don’t know why you left but you told me you loved me once. I hope that one day you’ll love me again—the way I love you.’

      Ana’s heart stopped, somersaulted, and then banged with crazy abandon against her chest. She told herself it was the heat in the cabin that made her light-headed, but hope told her it was something else.

      ‘You love me?’

      Bastien nodded. ‘Oui. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you love me again—’

      ‘I never stopped.’

      ‘You never—’

      ‘No, and you never told me how you felt.’

      He grimaced. ‘I did. You’re the love of my life, Ana, amour de mon coeur.’ He repeated the words he’d first said three weeks ago.

      Her eyes widened as recognition dawned.

      ‘I felt safer saying it in French because I was a fool and thought that way I wasn’t risking everything.’ He gathered her closer. ‘But I aim to say it in every language there is—starting with English. I love you, ma belle Ana.’

      Her heart soared. When he gathered her close she didn’t resist. His kiss was hungry, demanding, possessive. And she loved it. He backed her onto the tiny cot she slept on and came down over her.

      ‘Here?’

      ‘Have mercy on a poor man, Ana. I’ve been without you for three long weeks. I can’t take another single moment without you.’

      Her sigh of pleasure was all the answer he needed to continue.

      Later, in the equally tiny shower cubicle, he pulled her wet hair to one side and washed her back. Although there was more kissing than washing. Not that Ana was complaining.

      ‘Marry me,’ he muttered against her shoulder.

      Ana froze. ‘No. You can’t want to marry me.’

      His head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. ‘Credit me with knowing my own mind, mon coeur. I love you. I wish to spend the rest of my life with you. Marriage is the next natural step. Ana, I would be proud to have you by my side every day for the rest of my life. You’ve forged your way successfully through life and I’m proud of everything you’ve achieved. I would be even prouder to call you my wife.’ A touch of vulnerable pain clouded his eyes. ‘Why did you leave me, Ana?’

      ‘I thought you didn’t love me. After everything we’d been through, I thought if you loved me you’d have told me. When you didn’t...’

      His eyes turned smoky. ‘I will tell you every day how much I adore you. And if that doesn’t work I have a few aces up my sleeve.’

      ‘Oh, really?’ Her smile felt as if it would split her face as she moved into his arms.

      ‘Really.’ He grinned, then sobered. ‘I met your father an hour ago. He grilled me thoroughly before he showed me where your trailer was. I think I passed his potential son-in-law test. But if that doesn’t work... Remember the tower room the night I got back?’

      Intrigued, she nodded. ‘One of the crew members had left a camera on. It recorded our conversation, but more importantly it recorded you melting into my arms, kissing me like I owned your soul.’

      ‘You do. But blackmail, Bastien? Seriously?’

      He grinned. ‘Not as powerful as a sex tape, but I’ll use whatever ammunition I have so you’ll never leave me again.’ He sobered. ‘You’ve believed in yourself, thrived despite all the setbacks you’ve received. Take this last step, mon amour. Marry me.’

      ‘I can’t. Not yet. I’ve signed up with my father’s programme. I need to stay in Colombia for two years.’

      He merely shrugged. ‘Then I’ll stay with you. I can work from anywhere in the world.’

      ‘But—’

      ‘Marry me,’ he repeated, his purposeful tone making her heart soar. ‘Let me stay here with you. You can teach me Spanish as we pick through the bones and I’ll teach you whatever you need to learn. Of course that means I will resume tutoring you. Adam will have to go.’

      Tears filled her eyes. ‘I love you, mi corazón. Of course I’ll be your wife.’

      His kiss was long and deep. When he lifted his head the emotion in his eyes moved her soul. ‘I don’t deserve you, Ana.’

      ‘But you’ve got me all the same. You’re mine and I’m yours. Siempre.’

      ‘For ever.’

      * * * * *

At the Count’s Bidding

       “Come here.” Giancarlo’s voice was a rasp, thick and hot, and it moved through her like joy.

      Paige obeyed him, and this time she was happy to do it. She walked toward him, reveling in the way her blood pounded through her and her skin seemed to shrink a size, too tight across her bones. Because he could call this revenge. He could talk about hatred and penance. But it was still the same thick madness that felt like a rope around her neck. It was still the same inexorable pull.

      It was still them.

      He took her mouth like he was already deep inside her. Like he was thrusting hard and driving them both toward that glimmering edge. It was more than wild, more than carnal. He bent her back over her own arms, pressing her breasts into the flat planes of his chest, and he simply possessed her with a ruthless sort of fury that set every part of her aflame.

      She thrilled to his boldness, his shocking mastery. The glorious taste of him she’d