legs.
âAnother thingâweâve known each other since we were children, so whatâs with the
Miss Duval
? Canât you call me Ana?â she suggested with a tentative smile.
The slight softening heâd allowed himself to feel immediately hardened.
How casually sheâd tossed that memory into his lap. As if he hadnât spent years trying to forget that timeâas if the repercussions of those horrific weeks theyâd spent together hadnât lasted to this day.
Bitterness coated his mouth. âWe spent an unwelcome eight weeks together sixteen years agoâvery much against our willâwhen your mother decided to seduce my father and he foolishly let his hormones get the better of him. You and I have crossed paths only once since that time. Do you need me to remind you of what happened then?â
She shook her head wildly but he ignored her.
âYou flaunted your semi-nude body at me and I nearly ended up screwing your brains out. Tell meâdo either of those scenarios qualify us as childhood friends?â
Her smile disappeared, along with a healthy dose of colour. Her fingers curled around each other, her knuckles white against her green dress.
âYouâre despicable!â
He felt no regret. From the success of the DBH campaign so far, and the meteoric rise in sales of the product, Bastien knew the power of Ana Duvalâs erotic thrall. Women wanted to be her. Men wanted to be
with
her. But she held no sway over him.
For her own sake he needed to make sure she knew that too.
âWill your flatmate be at home by now?â
Her head snapped up, her gaze hurt and wary. He looked away.
âShe should be. Why?â
âYou need a change of clothes. Youâll be attending a board meeting with me in a little under sixteen hours. I recommend you do not do so dressed as you are right now.â
âWhat good will my presence there serve, exactly?â
He shrugged. âBy morning weâll know the extent of the damage to the company. Maybe your presence at the board meeting will be a precursor to your being fired and sued for damages.â
That hurt look returned and she bit her lip again.
Tearing his gaze away from her mouth was even harder, and the effort sent another dart of unease through him. Silence reigned in the carâone he didnât feel like breaking. His phone buzzed. He ignored it, curiously unwilling to hear any more news, good or bad, about what was happening outside the sphere he and Ana were in.
He watched her fumble through her bag, retrieve and activate her own phone.
How delicate her wrists were: frail, almost fragile, as if they were to be handled with the utmost care.
Bastien reeled back his wayward thoughts in time to hear her shallow gasp. Her colour receded even more as she listened to her messages.
Henry had already informed him after the meeting that the scandal involving the star of the DBH campaign had gone viral. Even the top international news stations were now leading with the story. Her voicemail would be crammed with every sleazy journalist wanting a piece of her.
Her clear distress grated.
âI suggest you turn off your phone and keep it turned off for the near future.â
For once she didnât protest. He watched one shaky finger press the power button. Then she went back to worrying at her lip with her perfect teeth.
Looking out of the window, she said woodenly, âWill Simone get here before our flightâs called?â
âWe take off when Iâm ready. Besides, your friendâs not bringing your stuff here. Iâve sent someone to pick up the things you need. I didnât want her to be inconvenienced when my people turned up.â
Her head whipped round, a flash of anger widening her eyes. âWhat if she hadnât been in?â
âYour landlady lives in the building. Iâm sure sheâd have accommodated my request.â
âYouâd have gone