most of the year now.â
His father was living with his guilt from sixteen years ago. Away from the shame heâd brought to his family and the chaos his actions had caused the company.
âDo you see them often?â she asked in a low, tentative voice.
He shrugged and answered despite the unsettling ache thinking about his parents brought. âI make a trip when my father insists on seeing me.â
âWhen was the last time?â
The ache intensified. âThree weeks ago.â
As usual his mother had barely known who he was, stoked up by the drugs prescribed for her condition. When his father had tried to prompt her memory heâd only succeeded in agitating her further. The visit had gone downhill very fast and Bastien had left, ignoring his fatherâs pleas to stay.
âIâm glad theyâre still together,â she ventured, a wary little smile teasing her lips. âYour father was nice to me.â
â
Oui,
heâs always had a weakness for a pretty face.â
She flinched, and mingled regret and bitterness bit deep, finally eradicating the last of his unwanted desire. Whereas heâd have smothered the emotions before, this time he gave them space. He needed to remind himself why control over his emotions was imperative. Why the erratic feelings between Ana and him risked pulling away the rivets heâd fastened over his emotions.
Because even as an angelic eight-year-old Ana had charmed and entranced everyone around herâincluding his father. He remembered his fatherâs encouragement for Bastien to get to know sweet AnaââSheâll be your sister one day, you know.â
The last thing heâd felt towards her then was brotherly, because every time heâd looked at her heâd been reminded that he was witnessing his familyâs destruction.
And the woman who sat next to him now, with her smooth legs crossed in the most alluring of ways, her eyelids lowered over chocolate-brown eyes as if keeping seductive secrets from a lover, engendered no brotherly feelings whatsoever inside him. A handful of minutes ago her body, warm and tempting, had surged against his, and her breath had come in passionate pants as sheâd lost herself in her pleasure.
Mon Dieu
, brotherly was the last thing heâd ever feel towards her.
He clenched his fingers against the urge to grab her chin again and make her look at him; to kiss her again and smother the bitterness of the past and the hunger of the present. He took a deep breath instead, reasserted control and reminded himself of one thing.
Regardless of their past, Ana Duval was as guilty as hell of the chaos now rippling through his life right now. Sheâd tested his control two months ago and she continued to test the edge of his resolve, reminding him of the vulnerability of emotion.
And
that
he would not forgive.
CHAPTER FOUR
A NA TOOK ONE last look at her image and brushed a hand over her dark grey suit jacket. Its precise, severe style suited her purpose. With her hair caught and pinned up out of the way, she projected a professional imageâone that was far removed from the image the paparazzi had plastered all over the internet in the last twenty four hours.
Although the cost of the Armani skirt suit, chosen hurriedly from the hotelâs boutique last night, would put a serious dent in her finances, sheâd had no choice. Facing Bastienâs board members wearing anything from her suitcase wasnât an option.
A knock signalled the arrival of breakfast, although eating was the last thing she felt like doing.
Bastienâs taut silence after that incident in the car last night gave her little hope that heâd be any different today. Heâd closed down, shutting her out as effectively as heâd done at fifteen.
On arrival at their luxurious hotel heâd left her outside her suite with an order to be ready at nine. But sleep had been elusive, and her long,
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