Robin yelled, ‘Action!’
A limousine rolled forward and the flashes of fake paparazzi cameras erupted as Ana stepped from the car onto the red carpet. Faking sadness came easily. Her actions had permanently scarred the beautiful man who owned her heart, so she immersed herself in her heartache and went with it.
‘That was perfection, Ana,’ Robin gushed. ‘Always a great sign when things go so well on a first take. Keep it up and we’ll have this thing wrapped in three days.’
* * *
Unfortunately the second day went in the opposite direction. Rain disrupted half a day’s shoot, fraying tempers and causing diva fits from Xander.
By the middle of day three Ana’s feet hurt and her whole body was mired in physical and emotional exhaustion. Striking poses for the photographer in charge of taking the stills—a tyrant who hid behind a perfectionist label—wasn’t going as smoothly as the filming had.
She heard the photographer’s annoyed huff one more time and suppressed her own huff. She wanted to scream, to tell him to take his camera and shove it somewhere dark and disturbing.
Swallowing her irritation, she tried another pose.
With another curse the photographer lowered his camera. ‘This isn’t working, Ana. Your shoulders are all hunched up. Relax!’
She gritted her teeth.
‘Think of something evocative...naughty. A lover kissing the back of your neck.’ He smirked.
Heat
unfurled in her stomach as the image of Bastien doing exactly that rose in her mind. Her cheeks flushed, her body reacting instantly.
‘Yes! That’s it. Now, look straight into the camera!’
Ana responded to the directive automatically. The shutter clicked several times before she could wipe the look off her face. Shame drenched her as the photographer crooned his approval. Even after she’d lowered her eyes he clicked away.
The minute he took a break she sprang to her feet and rushed out, but the refrain in her head wouldn’t stop.
She loved him.
She loved Bastien.
The knowledge swamped her, wrapped tight around her heart, sent a dizzying wave of warmth through her even as her heart broke with the knowledge that she’d never have him.
Keep it together. Keep it together.
Somehow she made it through the rest of the afternoon and the next day without crumbling into a heap of pathetic hopelessness and bawling her eyes out.
Perhaps Robin was right and she was a natural, because she even managed the passion required for the final tower scene in which her onscreen lover presented her with the Crown Jewel—the signature marquise-cut yellow Heidecker diamond.
By simply closing her eyes and imagining she was kissing Bastien the scene was shot in a single take.
And, best of all, no one knew her heart was breaking into a million little pieces.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE 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.’