Innocent in His Diamonds (16 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

T
HE
SHOOT
WRAPPED
just after midday, only half a day later than scheduled. Ana's bags were packed, Bastien was gone and she had no right to be here when he returned. She had no intention of sullying the Château D'Or with her presence for longer than necessary.

She was packing away the last of the clothes Bastien had bought her when Xander entered her room and plonked himself on the antique armchair.

‘You're coming out tonight, right?'

Tatiana had booked an exclusive restaurant and bar in Montreux for the wrap party but Ana had no interest in celebrating. ‘I was thinking of giving it a miss—'

‘No way. You're the belle of the ball. You don't go— I don't go.'

‘Xander—'

‘There won't be any paps around, if that's what you're worried about.'

She shook her head. ‘It's not.'

His face became unusually thoughtful. ‘Are you worried about those absurd drug charges?'

She froze. In the midst of falling in love with a man she could never have she'd shoved all thoughts of her upcoming trial to the back of her mind. They flooded back now. ‘Absurd or not, they're real.'

He nodded. ‘Do you have any idea who put the hook into you?'

‘No, but thanks for not assuming I'm guilty.'

He rolled his eyes. ‘Please—you go green if anyone so much as mentions taking an aspirin. You could be the poster child for a universal anti-drug campaign.'

‘That doesn't give me any idea of who did it.'

He eyed her silently for several seconds, making her heart race.

‘Xander...?'

‘I'm not pointing fingers, but perhaps you need to look closer to home for the culprit. And I mean
home
in the literal sense.'

Her heart lurched. ‘Are you sure?'

He shrugged. ‘All I'm saying is explore that avenue thoroughly.' He jumped up and pecked her on the cheek. ‘Now, doll yourself up. It's time to
par-tay.'

About to refuse again, she paused.

She was in love with a man she'd wronged beyond forgiveness. In the middle of the night, racked with pain and guilt, she'd toyed with calling Tatiana to find out where he was. In the end she'd decided the best thing to do was to give him his space.

There would be time for nursing her broken heart later. Once she was far away from here.

She'd achieved what she'd set out to do for Bastien—salvage his ad campaign. To cause tongues to wag now would undo all the good she'd done, and refusing to attend the party would do just that.

‘Okay, I'll come.'

Xander whooped on his way out, his fingers flying over the keyboard of his phone.

She chose a designer outfit that was more of a tunic than a dress. Its large sleeves covered her arms, but the bold, colourful, striped dress stopped at mid-thigh. Hoping it lent her an urgently needed vibrancy, she cinched it with a bronze diamante-studded belt and bronze high heels. Leaving her hair loose, she expertly applied her make-up and headed downstairs.

The trip to Montreux took less than half an hour.

The Hotel Suisse's Belle Epoque private dining suite had been reserved exclusively for their use. Appreciative murmurs went through a crowd who, even used to working in an industry of blatant wealth, weren't used to such extravagance.

Ana tried to feel joy in her surroundings but failed miserably. Desolation crashed over her, closely followed by the pain she felt every time she thought of Bastien.

She loved him. He would never love her.

But, with time, would he love another? Jealousy, hot and fierce, seared her at the thought of him married, perhaps raising children with another woman. By the time that happened—please God—she'd be at the opposite end of the earth with no access to newspapers or television. Because Ana didn't think she could stand it. She couldn't stand thinking about it now—

‘Hey, Ana, my Twitter fans are asking about you. You want to say something to them?' Xander shoved his phone under her nose.

She froze, the familiar wave of shame gripping her as she stared at the phone.

‘Type in any message you want.'

She took the phone and carefully typed in five letters, feeling a quiet sense of triumph when she succeeded. Xander looked at the screen.

‘“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.

Dared she tempt the fates and hope that fantasy would become reality? The diamond she could do without. All she wanted was for Bastien to—

‘There you are.'

The rumble of his voice stopped her wishful thoughts. He came forward, and her heart clenched tighter at the look on his face.

* * *

‘I wasn't sure whether you wanted a drink or not.' Bastien held out a glass of wine and watched her walk towards him.

His senses roared to life at the sight of her. The four days he'd been away felt like a lifetime. A lifetime during which the fear that he could lose Ana had been a living thing inside him.

For the first few hours after he'd arrived on his parents' doorstep he'd remained in shocked limbo, reliving the bleak memory of Ana walking away from him over and over. Ironic that the one place he'd striven to stay away from all these years had been the one place where he'd been able to find answers that might help him win back the woman he loved.

‘I...I'm glad you're back.'

He focused on her, drank her in, imprinted her on his senses. Tried not to reach for her. ‘Are you?' He needed to be sure.

Watching the rough cut of the ad campaign on the plane, especially that final take filmed in this room, had lodged a heavy stone in his gut.

His rational mind knew it was acting. But watching Ana in the arms of another man had been...difficult. Difficult? It had been hell!

It had also brutally brought home to him that everything had changed. He was no longer detached, no longer able to hold his feelings at bay.

Their pasts were inextricably linked. And, as much as he'd fought it before, he wanted their futures to be linked too.

All he knew was that he wanted Ana. No. It was more than that. He yearned for her. Against everything he'd fought against...every precaution he'd taken...he'd fallen under her spell. And he was ready to fight hard and dirty if need be.

‘Robin tells me you came up with most of the ideas for the ad campaign. That the slogan—“Diamonds by Heidecker...for the Woman Worth Waiting For”—was your idea. Why didn't you tell me?'

Surprise lit her face, followed by a blush. One shoulder lifted in a shrug. ‘Because it wasn't. Not entirely, anyway. I just came up with the idea to make it into a...a meaningful story rather than just another run-of-the-mill depiction of a woman wearing expensive diamonds.'

‘“A meaningful story”? You mean a romantic story.'

Her chin tilted. ‘What's wrong with that? It works, or you wouldn't have given it your seal of approval.'

‘I like the idea. What I don't like is the subterfuge.'

A glimmer of hurt crossed her face. ‘There's no subterfuge, Bastien.'

‘I didn't see your name anywhere on the script. So someone else is taking the credit for your idea.'

She shrugged. ‘It really is no big deal, Bastien.'

He stepped closer, drawn like a moth to a seductive flame. ‘It is to me. It should be to you. Fight for what you're owed.'

She licked her lips. ‘Why?'

‘I don't like the thought of someone taking advantage of you.'

‘Are you putting yourself up as my protector?'

‘Would that be so bad?' he asked.

Her breath caught. Bastien stared down at her, words crowding his brain. She stared back, her brown eyes deep, probing, breathtaking. Every breath, every nerve, every sinew clamoured for her. He wanted to pull her to him, to feel the soft suppleness of her body against his, to hear her breathe his name.

‘Thank you for hiring the lawyer for me.'

‘It was nothing less than you deserve. I'll always look out for you.'

Her eyes widened. ‘What are you saying, Bastien?'

‘Do you know where I've been these past few days?'

She shook her head.

‘I went to see my parents,' he said. ‘I drove through the night to Gstaad. We had a long talk.'

A wave of pain darted over her face as she gazed up at him. He forced his free hand into his pocket to stop himself caressing the shadows from her face. Deep inside him something twisted, because he knew her pain was for him.

‘How...how did it go?'

Bastien tried to will away the pain of that confrontation, tried not to remember the emotion that had clogged in his chest at his father's remorse
—‘My weakness destroyed this family...you practically had to raise yourself...forgive me...'

‘It was difficult. There's been so much blame, so much bitterness. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but the time was long overdue to deal with the past. To make things right with my father. To make things right with you.' And with the mother he'd discovered cared deeply for him after all.

Ana thrust her glass on to a nearby surface and came closer, her eyes imploring. ‘Bastien, please believe me. I had no idea what sort of pills they were or I'd have never—' Her voice broke.

Unable to stop himself, he reached for her. ‘You have to stop blaming yourself, Ana. I don't blame you for that. Neither do my parents. You need to get past that and forgive yourself or we can't move on.'

Tears glistened in her eyes. Her hand fluttered up, almost touched his, but then veered away to rest against her throat. ‘Move on? What are you saying?'

‘I'm saying the past has overshadowed our lives for long enough. My father has his faults, but he's more than made up for them these last sixteen years. I didn't want to see it because I've been locked away in that cold gazebo all this time. It took your daring me to break me free. As for my mother...' He sighed. ‘She knew the pills you gave her weren't headache pills.'