BASTIEN’S TEETH GRITTED together as he fought to remain calm—fought against the primal urge to roar against the pain that ripped through him every time he thought of Ana.
He felt weak, debilitated, as if struck down by some alien disease. Even his heart wasn’t sure whether to beat fast or slow, so it alternated between the two, constantly robbing him of breath. He thought of what he’d do when he found her. First he’d kiss her, and then he’d shake her until he got an answer. Then kiss her again—
He heard laughter as he approached the dusty, dilapidated trailer in the middle of the Colombian jungle. Familiar female laughter. His heart thundered and the surge of joy through his veins was so thrilling, the knowledge that he’d found her at last so heady, he smiled before he could stop himself.
Mon Dieu...three long weeks he’d searched for her.
The deep male voice that joined in the laughter stopped Bastien dead in his tracks. There was a man in there...with Ana. His Ana.
He wrenched at the door before his thoughts coalesced. It refused to budge. He smashed his fist against the frame.
The laughter ceased.
‘Open this door, Ana. Now!’
Footsteps drew closer. Before the latch had turned fully he wrenched it open.
She was dressed. That was the first thing Bastien made sure of the moment he saw her. She was dressed—albeit in the tiniest pair of shorts known to man and a halter-necked top so threadbare it was almost see-through.
‘Bastien! What are you doing here?’
Her slack-jawed astonishment drew his gaze to her mouth—a mouth he hadn’t tasted for what seemed like a lifetime. Hunger pounded through him, its fierce bite instant and relentless.
He ignored it, his gaze moving to the man who rose from the chair near the window. A tall, lanky man with long brown hair dressed in a distinctly hippy-type outfit.
‘Who the hell are you?’
His snarl made the other man’s eyes widen. Bastien’s satisfaction wasn’t great, but it was welcome nonetheless. Ana’s horrified gasp barely registered because he was busy devising ways to break the other man’s limbs.
‘Bastien, you have no right to speak to my guest like that.’
He extended a hand. ‘Bastien Heidecker. Apologies for my rudeness. And you are...?’
Before the other man could answer Ana stepped up beside him. ‘Adam is my tutor.’
‘Tutor?’ Belatedly Bastien saw the books spread over a small table by the window.
‘We were just discussing the Tudors and Henry VIII’s fondness for excess,’ Adam offered.
Any emerging regret for his rudeness towards Adam immediately evaporated when Bastien saw the way he smiled at Ana. Every muscle in his body tightened at the adoration in the man’s eyes.
He bared his teeth. ‘If I’m not mistaken, Henry also had an extreme fondness for beheading.’
Taut silence settled in the trailer. Adam cleared his throat. ‘I’ll...er...leave you two alone.’
The door had barely shut before he reached for her. ‘Are you sleeping with him?’
The need to know burned a wide and jagged path through him, although at the back of his mind he asked himself how he’d handle it if she said yes.
‘What? Are you serious—?’
He plunged his mouth down on hers, firstly to shut her up, but mostly because his need had become so gut-wrenching he couldn’t think straight.
Her mouth opened up beneath his. His senses sang as he renewed his acquaintance with the potency of her kiss. He folded her into his arms, his hands rediscovering the exquisite curves he’d dreamed about day and night for endless weeks. Her soft breasts pressed into his chest, their heavy weight and hardened peaks a reminder of all he’d desperately missed.
He’d barely scratched the surface of his hunger before she pushed him away.
‘You didn’t answer me. What are you doing here?’