‘I thought the boat would be a replica of your big, flashy super-yacht moored in Cannes. Or is that only for seducing the employees you want to fire?’
He slid her a glance. ‘What happened on that boat has only happened once. With you.’
He helped her in and passed her the basket. Their fingers touched and she trembled. Resisting the urge to cancel the trip and sweep her off into his bed, he started the engine and eased away from the pier.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
‘We’re headed upstream to Villeneuve.’
They picked up speed and Ana threw back her head, a wide smile on her face as she enjoyed the rush of the breeze.
Bastien watched her wave to other sailors, unable to take his eyes off her. When she glanced at him the look in her eyes stopped his breath. Forcing himself to concentrate or risk crashing, he pulled the boat into a tiny inlet and pointed to a hill above them.
‘There’s a spot just over that rise. We’ll have lunch there.’
They reached the top of the hill and she gazed down at the view. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said.
‘Indeed,’ he agreed.
She turned and Bastien’s gaze dropped to her mouth. Relentless desire pounded at him. She swayed as if the force of his need had physically reached out and tugged her to him.
Last night had done nothing to ease his hunger, he admitted grimly to himself. If anything, it had only intensified his yearning for her.
That didn’t mean he had to act on it. Turning away, he briskly laid out their lunch, gesturing to her to take her place opposite him.
Tucking her hair behind her ears, Ana sank onto the blanket. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘Grab a plate and dish out the food. The bread should still be warm. I’ll cut up some cheese after I pour the wine,’ he said.
He filled a crystal glass and passed it to her. Her slim fingers brushed his. He heard her faint gasp and forced himself to ignore it.
‘The weather is much cooler than I imagined it would be at this time of year.’
‘To Genevans this is positively arctic weather.’
‘You’re very lucky. I hate being cold.’
‘Then why do you live in London?’
She shrugged. ‘That’s where I grew up. But I won’t be for much longer.’
‘Archaeology is a huge change.’
She took a bite of her food and chewed before answering. ‘I love a challenge.’
His wry smile confirmed that observation. ‘Most women would give everything to be in your place. And the paparazzi certainly loves you.’ He watched her, twirling his wine glass lazily between his fingers.
‘I’m not most women. And I don’t court publicity, if that’s what you’re implying. What I do is part of my job—’
‘It’s part of your job to constantly appear in public wearing as little as possible, hanging off the arm of the latest male model?’ A dark emotion stormed through his gut and his fingers tightened around his glass.
‘You’d be surprised how often the same pictures are modified and reused. Anyway, how do you know? Have you been checking up on me?’
Bastien felt a dull flush creep across his cheeks. He refused to admit he’d taken more than a little interest in her since she’d become the model for the DBH campaign.
When her eyes collided with his, heat flared within him. ‘I take a healthy interest for professional reasons.’
She laughed. ‘Really? Are you saying a powerful businessman like you doesn’t have minions to check things like that for you?’ Her voice had grown husky and her head had tilted seductively.