Innocent in His Diamonds by Maya Blake

but at least it covered her midriff.
    Curbing a growl of frustration, she passed a brush through her hair, trying not to look into the floor-length mirror next to the bathroom door as she did so.
    She gathered her hair on top of her head and pinned it in place. Bastien already thought she used her body to achieve her own ends. His opinion of her couldn’t sink any lower. Besides, she’d endured worse looks from men in the past.
    But none of them made your pulse hammer so hard, or made you aware of every erratic breath you took.
    Pursing her lips, she grasped the door handle and opened it.
    Bastien’s huge frame filled the doorway.
    â€˜Are you stalking me?’ she snapped.
    His mouth quirked. ‘I was beginning to wonder whether you’d launched yourself out of the nearest air lock.’ His penetrating gaze captured hers and something throbbed to life in her chest.
    â€˜The idea was tempting, but the thought of food won against the need to escape.’ Her stomach rumbled in agreement and she grimaced.
    â€˜Then by all means come, let’s satisfy your hunger...’ he drawled mockingly—then froze, his gaze fixed over her shoulder.
    Cringing, Ana glanced back at the clothes strewn on the bed.
    She rushed to the bed and lunged for the clothes. Only to stop when his suppressed hiss made her head jerk around. His eyes were riveted on her behind, his laser gaze burning right through the wide slash in the jeans exposing half her bottom.
    â€˜When I suggested presentable clothes, this wasn’t what I had in mind,’ he rapped out, his face taut with more than a hint of wild hunger.
    Roiling emotions jerked through her. ‘This wasn’t what I had in mind, either. But that’s what you get for not giving me a chance to pack my own clothes.’
    Crossing his arms over his chest, he rested one muscled shoulder against the doorjamb. ‘So this is
my
fault? Don’t get me wrong—I’m not complaining at the view. Merely thinking that January in Geneva isn’t the time to be exposing acres of flesh, delectable though it might be.’
    â€˜Well, until I can buy myself a coat you’ll just have to avert your eyes. Or is that
really
the problem?’ she challenged, then kicked herself at poking the dragon.
    â€˜I assure you, controlling my baser urges has never been my problem, Miss Duval. Right now you’re more in danger of contracting pneumonia than attracting my attention.’
    â€˜Watch it, Bastien, you’re being vile again,’ she snapped.
    He shoved a hand through his hair, ruffling the smooth blond waves. ‘You drive me to it.’ He stopped and breathed deep. ‘If you want to eat, come now. The food’s getting cold.’
    Tight-jawed, he stepped aside and waited for her to precede him.
    Ana suppressed the impulse to refuse food, slid past him and hurried to her seat, keenly aware of his merciless scrutiny as he followed.
    She polished off Caesar salad and a basket of warm French bread in record time, then sat back in her seat.
    Exhaustion had sapped her strength. Their verbal wrangling on top of everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours was taking its toll. The warm shower had helped, but weariness still tugged relentlessly at her muscles.
    When he moved away and opened his laptop again after their meal she breathed a sigh of relief and retreated to the farthest club chair, trying to formulate a plan of action on how to defend herself against her charges.
    Within minutes she’d given up, her concentration having fractured every time she came within touching distance of a coherent thought. Instead her brain remained locked on the look on Bastien’s face when she’d turned around in the bedroom. The naked hunger that had burned in his slate-grey eyes replayed itself over and over in her mind until breathing became difficult.
    Desperate to escape the cloying atmosphere, she almost applauded when