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Anastasia Hazel Forrester had been a stunner in her early twenties, in her prime womanhood, she was a total knockout. Devin knew he was a goner the moment he laid eyes on her walking down the runway unaware of him. Her presence on stage shone through like a ray of sunshine after a long period of overcast weather. Aside from a complete make-over, her expression was cold and impassible, so unlike the Ana he’d known five years ago. To think that he was the one who’d transformed her into that version of virago caused a small constriction in the region where his heart was supposed to be. Even if he hated her. Still hated her vehemently, with every fiber of his being.

Their brief association had taught him that she was a spoilt and self-centered little brat, who venerated her father endlessly. That was her only unpardonable crime, but she didn’t need any other incrimination considering who her father was. With a sneer, restless anticipation poured in his veins, unable to keep his attendance unknown any longer. At that precise moment, like she was attuned to his mood, her blue chips homed into his with mutinous challenge.

Surprise was too weak a word to describe the way he felt to discover that she’d grown some substance, when before she’d been meek and over-enthusiastic – which had been merely a smokescreen of course. Adrenaline kicked in with reaction, and he returned her smirk with a facsimile of his own, his insolent gaze staring impudently with the intent to insult. Whatever genuine admiration he felt for her for keeping her front was carefully hidden, as they stared at each other with blatant hostility, the atmosphere laden with tension. Inwardly, he was forced to appreciate her gusto though. Nothing changed in her outer demeanor, nobody could even guess that she was seeing her ex-fiancé after five years – the one who had betrayed her by not showing up at the altar.

When she purposefully ignored him on her next appearances, his ego took a huge dent that she could manage to remain unfazed. With much difficulty and an age-old self-restraint, he resisted the urge to fidget in his seat, a childish attempt to get her attention. He’d vowed to himself that he wouldn’t allow her to get to him this time. However, his iron-clad control slithered when her gaze transiently wandered in his direction, and all his resolve evaporated when he bestowed her with an evil smile, damning himself for letting her get under his skin.

It’d been five bloody years, damn it ! How could that chit of a woman still have the capacity to crumble his façade, be the only one who got through his defenses like they were sand instead of concrete ? It was a small consolation to know that Ana also felt the same fatal attraction as him, the sexual tension between them was too tangible to disregard.

This time, though, he was forearmed with the knowledge of her selfish nature, and with five years of distance between them, he refused to fall in her trap a second time. He was no horny teenager who could not outplay a bout of lust – he was a powerful business magnate, son the great Richard Michael Crighton. There was no way he would permit himself to become putty in the hands of a mere woman, not when he’d witnessed how destructive that race could be. As his past caught up, he literally felt the mastery of his self-discipline strengthen. He would show no pity to Ana – Anastasia this time. It was better if his mind conjured her as Anastasia, it felt less intimate.

However, he was unprepared for what happened next, all his resolutions disintegrated like dust when her next appearance set the stage on fire, rising the heat several notches. Any idea about keeping cool indifference flew out of the window like smoke when she waltzed around in a flimsy yellow dress which barely extended beyond her thighs, exposing her gorgeous toned legs. On top of that, the way she was flaunting her cleavage left little to imagination, with every male eyes were glued to her chest with devouring appreciation.

Without warning, some primitive emotion gripped him savagely and he had to clutch the side of his seat to prevent himself from jumping on the stage to kidnap her. Or drape some cloth over her. Anything to keep her away from the lust-filled gazes of the wolves in the audience, who looked like they were already having X-rated mind sex with her.

As she approached the end of the stage, he noticed that the dress was so transparent and that she was totally naked underneath, without an ounce of decency. At that moment his wrath knew no bounds as his grip tightened until his knuckles became white. How dared she ? Flaunt her body in such a vulgar way ? And this was the first time he’d attended one of her shows ever as she’d started her modeling career only after their break-up. God only knew how much she’d been exposing in the past.

As she turned round for maximizing the effect of her profile view, he released a pent-up breath – breath he’d not even been aware of holding when he finally figured that the design was so cleverly orchestrated that the yellow muslin looked like there was nothing but raw skin under. Relief flooded through him, and before he’d had time to recover, she flashed him a triumphant smile right back.

Feisty, wasn’t she ? A pity because he was here to destroy her spirits. Too bad he was the carrier of terribly bad news – in fact he’d made it a point to be the messenger, travelling purposefully from Rochester. Devin could hardly wait for the moment when he would unravel the reason for seeking her out and watch the color reap from her bogus persona.

Sordid thoughts hovered in his mind and he endured the rest of the show, eagerly waiting for another glimpse of her but she was nowhere to be found. Not even when the fashion designer was given a standing ovation followed by all models. Where the hell was she ?

Trying to be discrete, he scanned the area furtively, still trying to make her face out among the models clapping their hands like puppets. Feeling strangely bereft when she was not found, he searched for her backstage and sagged in defeat when she was unfound – it seemed that she’d disappeared into thin air.

A few feet from him stood a man who looked like he was having a near orgasm on the success of the evening, and Devin approached him in two graceful strides.

« Hello, would you happen to know where Anastasia Forrester is ? » he inquired politely.

« O.M.G !!! What are you doing in here ? Only the staff is tolerated backstage, but I could make an exception for a hot guy like you, » the event manager winked at him in a suggestive way that left no doubt of his sexual orientation.

Hell, a man was hitting on him. Just what he needed right now. Tampering down his impatience, Dev tried to lift his mouth in a semblance of a smile, and even managed a touch with his forefinger on the gay’s chest. It disgusted him when the latter vibrated with exaggerated pleasure, and he curbed his irritation with great difficulty.

« I need the whereabouts of Miss Forrester for urgent business, » he iterated a second time, feeling peeved for having to lower himself to ask about her. It was not a complete lie ; he did have business with her. In fact, anything between him and Ana henceforth would only be professional matters, anything else had been annihilated when he’d cancelled their wedding.

« What business would a hot guy like you have with that cold bitch ? » the man tried to make another pass by touching his biceps.

That time, Dev hissed with unconcealed exasperation and he ambled past the man ignoring his protests barging into what looked like a private dressing room. It was the only personal chamber inside the studio aside the multiple segmented open space areas.

« I’m sorry, » he apologized without a trace of remorse as he caught sight of the dress designer Aimee Mc-something working on her laptop. He’d paid enough attention to the show to have acquired that much information. « I was actually looking for someone. »

Without a word, she peeked at him through her thickly framed glasses and surveyed him with open curiosity, like a scientist would inspect a bug under a microscope. He was damned before showed any of his discomfort though, only promising himself all this hassle would be worth it when he eventually faced Ana. « I’m looking for Anastasia Forrester, » he offered defensively, when he could no longer bear her frank scrutiny.

« And you would be ? » she asked in an unwavering voice, and he hesitated before introducing himself. What were the odds of having Ana murdering his character to that woman ? Zilch ? Well, he would find out in a minute, still he decided to prevaricate for some more time, or a way to find a dent in that dragon’s armor.

« I’m afraid I have some news for her, » he ventured, knowing he was only beating about the bush, using his charismatic smile to charm her from her frozen form.

There was no getting through that bulwark though, she stood mute as a statue, unrelentingly as she waited for his answer.