LITMIR.BIZ

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of her plate.

      ‘We’re having a nice meal, Bastien. Don’t ruin it.’

      Bastien cursed under his breath and set his glass down. ‘Have you packed yet?’

      Her gaze returned warily to his. ‘I didn’t unpack because I didn’t think I’d be staying beyond today.’

      ‘Then we can leave directly after dinner.’

      She nodded. ‘Fine by me. Where’s your château?’

      ‘It’s in Vaud—on the shores of Lac Léman.’

      ‘Will anyone else be there?’

      ‘My estate staff live on the grounds, but otherwise we’ll be alone. Does that concern you?’ Part of him wished that it would—that the notion would unsettle her the way he’d felt unsettled all day long.

      She returned his gaze, her eyes wide. ‘No. Why would it?’

      ‘Because you’re biting your lip again. That tells me something’s bothering you. Are you worried that the moment we’re alone we’ll be tempted to do dirty little things to each other?’

      ‘Of course not. We’re perfectly capable of restraining ourselves.’

      His smile felt tight. ‘If you say so.’

CHAPTER SIX

      ANA PRETENDED INTEREST in the scenery until darkness limited her view to the tall trees lining the road leading to Bastien’s château.

      Château D’Or, he’d called it. The golden castle.

      The place where they might be tempted to ‘do dirty little things to each other...’

      Her fingers dug into her seat in a futile attempt to stop wondering what those dirty little things would entail, but her pulse continued to race, and that insistent throbbing between her legs was growing by the minute.

      Shaking herself out of the weakening sensation, she turned to him, carefully averting her gaze from his confident hands gripping the steering wheel.

      ‘How much longer?’ she asked, thankful when her voice came out steady.

      ‘Another ten minutes should see us there. Tired?’

      His genuine concern made her relax slightly.

      ‘It’s been a long day.’

      She dragged a hand through her hair, lifted its heavy weight off her neck. Twirling it into a thick rope, she coiled it around her fingers. When he followed the movement she paused, but his gaze returned to the road in the next instant.

      Releasing her breath, she continued playing with the strands. ‘I called around to find out if anyone knew more about what happened at the nightclub.’

      Silver eyes briefly speared hers. ‘And?’

      ‘No one knows anything.’

      His brows lifted. ‘Does that surprise you?’

      ‘Frankly, yes. Normally gossip like that spreads like wildfire.’

      He didn’t reply for several minutes, his gaze glued to the dark, winding road. Finally, he nodded. ‘I have a firm of investigators I use for due diligence. I’ll have them look into it.’

      The unexpected offer made her breath catch. ‘Really? Thank you, Bastien.’ On pure impulse she reached for his arm. ‘I really appreciate it.’

      Packed muscle flexed beneath her touch, his cotton shirt and dark sweater no barrier against the warmth that seeped through to her fingers. Instant fiery desire made her fingers curl, and the irrational urge to keep touching him unfurled inside her like a driving, persistent hunger.

      She didn’t know how long she stayed like that. Seconds. Minutes. Time lost meaning and rational thought fled as she stared at his profile—his gorgeous face, his taut cheekbones, those unspeakably long, golden lashes and the lush mouth that had taken such powerful control of hers. His strong throat...

      And his tense jaw...within which a muscle flicked.

       Dirty little things...dirty little things...

      Ana snatched back her hand, certain she was sliding into madness. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have... I didn’t mean to—’

      ‘Don’t apologise, cherie. Believe it or not, I don’t hate it when you touch me. If anything, I like it a little too much.’

      His husky rasp cut through her words. She gasped, but before she could reply he continued.

      ‘We’re here.’

      They drove through tall iron gates housed in a stone arch that looked as if it had been around since medieval times. Endless trees stretched over them like silent sentinels as they made their way up the drive.

      Unbidden, a shiver passed through her. The feeling of foreboding she’d experienced this morning returned—forcefully this time. Calling herself all kinds of fool for entertaining it, she brushed it away.

      Once the photo shoot and her trial were over she’d be free of Bastien, free to fulfil her dreams. Perhaps this sense of standing on the edge of a precipice was merely subconscious exhilaration at her impending freedom.

      Clinging to that, Ana straightened in her seat.

      At her first glimpse, she knew why the château had gained its name.

      It stood like a shimmering mirage on top of a small hill, a wonderful surprise at the end of a copse of trees. Bathed in mellow light, the yellow stone would look golden in any light—day or night.

      ‘Wow, it’s breathtaking.’

      ‘Yes, it is.’ He turned off the ignition. ‘Welcome to Château D’Or,’ he said, and thrust his door open.

      She followed suit, unable to take her eyes off the stunning building. Set on three storeys, with elegant dormer windows that would give amazing views over the valley they’d just climbed out of, the château looked like every girl’s childhood dream castle. It came complete with a west-facing flagged and turreted tower built to capture the perfect sunset.

      A large wooden door hewn from oak opened, drawing Ana’s attention from the tower. A small-framed woman greeted them, her smile warming when she saw Bastien.

      ‘This is Chantal. She manages the château and its gardens with her husband. Their son and daughter-in-law help in the stables and look after the horses.’

      ‘You have horses?’ Ana asked, after returning Chantal’s greeting.

      Bastien paused where he was unloading their luggage. ‘You ride?’ Surprise tinged his voice.

      ‘I used to. We lived on a ranch in Brazil for six months.’

      He tensed. ‘We?’

      She ignored the tautness in his voice. ‘Lily and I spent time there.’ Until her mother’s Brazilian lover ditched her. But by then Ana had had a love of horses firmly entrenched in her heart.

      ‘Why did you leave?’ Bastien asked. The strain was gone from his voice, had been replaced by gentle speculation.

      ‘It didn’t work out. What kind of horses do you keep?’ she asked quickly, eager to escape the subject of her mother.

      He slammed the boot shut, picked up their cases. ‘The best kind.’ He smiled. ‘If you’re really interested, I’ll show you in the morning.’

      Again his unexpected offer threw her. ‘Yes, please.’

      The next half-hour was spent touring the château, and each high-ceilinged, history-rich room revealed was even more spectacular than the last. By the time Chantal showed Ana to her room—complete with lace-curtained four-poster bed—she’d

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