restless night had been spent reliving that kiss and how she would survive the next three weeks in the emotional cauldron that was being around Bastien.
Another knock fractured her thoughts. She let the waiter in and he wheeled a trolley underneath the window facing a picturesque view of Lake Geneva.
In the early-morning light the Alps and Mont Blanc rose majestically in the distance, the rolling range curving almost protectively around the city. Sheâd travelled to other parts of Switzerland on photo shoots but had never visited its best-known city.
Ana sat down at the table...forced herself to eat two pieces of buttered toast and a mouthful of scrambled eggs. It was just as she lifted the glass of orange juice that she spotted it.
A newspaper was tucked underneath the napkin, and on its front page was her picture. Only it wasnât just her picture. The photo showed her in Bastienâs arms, emerging from the court yesterday. Showed the way sheâd clung to him like a limpet, her eyes closed and her face buried in his neck as if...as if he was her protector.
God...
But that wasnât the worst of it. It was the look on Bastienâs face that made her hands shake as she unfolded the paper.
What she could understand of the caption froze her blood.
Heideckerâs New Love. Is He the Cure for this Drug-Addicted Supermodel?
Skimming the article, she desperately tried to recognise enough words to understand what the article said. Her horror grew as she spotted Simoneâs name repeatedly. Her breakfast surged upwards, making a bid for freedom.
She barely made it to the bathroom before she emptied her stomachâs contents. Trembling from head to toe, she wrenched at the tap, rinsed her mouth, then clutched the sink, eyes squeezed shut, struggling to breathe.
This was the absolute last thing she needed...
Standing there, propped against the sink, she didnât realise the pounding wasnât just in her head until she heard her name called out.
âOpen the door, Miss Duval.â
Heart leaping into her throat, she prised her fingers from the cold porcelain and approached the bathroom door.
She cracked it open. âWhat do you want, Bastien?â
He surged into the room. âWhat took you so long?â
A few smart answers rose to her lips but she smothered the more hysterical ones when she caught his frown. âWhat...?â
âYou look pale. Are you all right?â He laid a hand against her forehead.
For several seconds she couldnât speak. âIâm fine,â she finally managed. âHow did you get in here?â
âThis hotel belongs to me.â He dropped his hand. âHH Geneva is one of several hotels owned by my bank.â
The HH GroupâHeidecker Hotelsâwas renowned for its understated opulence, was yet another feather in the Heidecker cap...a fact sheâd missed with her weariness last night.
âIt doesnât explain what youâre doing in my room,â she replied, cringing as she wondered whether heâd heard her retching.
âI told you to be ready at nineâthat was five minutes ago. When you didnât answer your door I let myself in. Donât fret. If Iâd hoped to catch you naked Iâd have turned up an hour ago as you took your shower.â
âCareful, there, Bastien, or Iâll add Peeping Tom to your list of unsavoury characteristics.â
That earned her a mocking look as he returned to the sitting room and crossed to the open suite door. He didnât slam it. Yet the decisive snick of the lock and a glimpse of what he held in his fist sent a shaft of pure, unadulterated dread through her.
He unfurled another newspaper. The front-page picture was the same as on hers, but the language was different.
âTell me what you know about this,â he invited softly.
âIf youâre asking if Iâve seen the paper, yesâI have.â Her eyes inadvertently slid to the
Brenda Rothert
Kenneth Oppel
Khloe Wren
Rebekkah Ford
Arturo Pérez-Reverte
Steve Stroble
Andrew Shaffer
D. R. Macdonald
Stella Duffy
David Foster Wallace