Page 98 of The Encore’s Crown

“Oh my God! We're late!”

“I heard you the first six times.”

“No, now we're really late.”

She shot off the bed and began dragging fabric over herself with none of the grace she possessed in public. The sari that had lifted so quickly took considerably longer to repair. I sat on the edge of the mattress and watched her. She glanced at me. Then lower. Her expression changed. She came closer, her hands still working at the fabric around her waist. She reached down and her fingertips brushed lightly over the front of my pants, gentle enough to make my entire body tighten.

“That’s cruel.”

She bent and kissed me, smiling against my mouth.

“There’s no time.”

I stood, then pulled her closer, groaning into the kiss when her hip pressed against me.

“I’m going to need five business days before I can walk downstairs like this.”

Radhika flicked me directly in the forehead. I stared at her.

“There,” she said. “Did that help?”

“No, was that the plan?”

“You have one entire minute to calm down.”

“One minute?”

“Fifty-eight seconds now.”

She turned toward the mirror and began repairing her hair. I looked down at myself. Then at her reflection. She met my eyes through the glass and smiled with the satisfaction of a woman who had finally remembered exactly how much power she had over me.

Another voice called from the corridor, closer this time.

“Radhi?”

She cursed softly under her breath, fixed the last pin in her hair, then crossed back to where I stood near the bed like a man awaiting execution. She rose onto her toes and kissed me once more, quick at first, then deeper, like we had more time than we did. When she pulled back, her smile was cruel and knowing, the shared taste of her between us. She knew then. Knew exactly how completely she owned me.

“Happy Holi,” she whispered.

Then she slipped out, leaving me hard, dazed, and suddenly aware I had less than a minute to make myself presentable before facing her entire family.

Chapter 38

Erase The Distance

Kiri

When I reached the main courtyard, I saw how the entire estate had changed. The pale stone disappeared beneath draped fabric in pink, orange, yellow, and red. Garlands hung from the balconies. Brass bowls filled with powdered color covered long tables around the courtyard, each one brighter than the last. Musicians sat beneath an awning tuning drums and strings while staff carried trays of sweets, drinks, and flowers through the gathering crowd.

Everyone wore white, including me. Mine was a gift from Mrs. Malhotra, waiting on my bed the second night. A long white cotton kurta, light enough for the heat, with a narrow collar, small mother-of-pearl buttons down the chest, and subtle embroidery along the cuffs that I was absolutely going to ruin within ten minutes. The trousers were loose and soft, tied at the waist, like I was someone’s respectful idea of a man.

When I'd put it on, I'd stared at myself in the mirror. The white made everything else look louder. The black of my hair. The rings on my fingers. The tattoos crawling over my hands and disappearing under the sleeves. I looked less like I belonged in their family courtyard and more like someone had dressed a warning sign for a festival.

Radhika stood near her mother beneath one of the arches, looking so perfectly composed no one would have guessed what I had done to her less than half an hour earlier. Her sari had been repaired. Her hair was pinned neatly back into place. Only the faint flush still high in her cheeks betrayed her. That and the way she looked at me. Her gaze dropped briefly below my waist. Then she smiled. I could still taste her on my lips. On my tongue. I looked away before the memory made the five-business-day problem return.

Mr. Malhotra appeared beside me.

“Feeling better?” I glanced at him. His expression was perfectly neutral. He couldn't possibly know. Could he? “Radhika said you required a minute. That you weren't feeling well.”