Her smile disappeared, along with a healthy dose of colour. Her fingers curled around each other, her knuckles white against her green dress.
‘You’re despicable!’
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 Duval’s 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.
‘Will your flatmate be at home by now?’
Her head snapped up, her gaze hurt and wary. He looked away.
‘She should be. Why?’
‘You need a change of clothes. You’ll 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.’
‘What good will my presence there serve, exactly?’
He shrugged. ‘By morning we’ll 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.’
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 car—one he didn’t 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.
‘I suggest you turn off your phone and keep it turned off for the near future.’
For once she didn’t 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, ‘Will Simone get here before our flight’s called?’
‘We take off when I’m ready. Besides, your friend’s not bringing your stuff here. I’ve sent someone to pick up the things you need. I didn’t want her to be inconvenienced when my people turned up.’
Her head whipped round, a flash of anger widening her eyes. ‘What if she hadn’t been in?’
‘Your landlady lives in the building. I’m sure she’d have accommodated my request.’
‘You’d have gone through my possessions without my permission?’ Incredulity rang through her husky voice.
‘You owe my company a great deal of money, Miss Duval. I’d rethink any sense of misplaced anger, if I were you.’
‘Well, you’re not me! You might feel all high and mighty in that Heidecker tower in which you live, but normal people tend to treat each other with more respect.’
He glanced pointedly at the door. ‘You’re welcome to hop out again if you feel hard done by. But don’t think for one minute that I won’t come after you with everything I’ve got to make sure you honour our agreement.’
What little colour remained leached from her face. He watched her skim a shaky hand through her hair. The silky strands slid slowly through her fingers as she subsided into her seat. For several seconds she didn’t speak, but her lips moved, formulating words with which to annihilate him. When she raised her eyes to his the chocolate-brown depths had darkened to almost black with the fierce fire burning within.
Raw, unfamiliar sensation gripped him, leaving a strong current rumbling along his nerves. The strange emotion made him feel disgruntled, made him shift in his seat. His eyes fell lower to her plump lips as they parted.
‘I hate you.’