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‘Okay,’ she said with a quick nod, before she could change her mind. ‘Where shall we meet?’
His smile was pure arrogance—as though he’d known all along it would reach this point.
‘My car is out the front. I’ll let my driver know to expect you.’
A tremor ran down her spine as their plans took a firm shape. There was no turning back; this was happening. But India didn’t want to turn backwards anyway. For this night, and just this night, she wanted to look forward, at the man opposite her, who’d promised to make love to her until she couldn’t think straight.
‘Fine, I’ll meet you soon,’ she said.
She turned to leave but he grabbed her hand, pulling her abruptly back to him and kissing her soundly, so her senses were in overdrive all over again.
‘Be quick, India. I don’t want to wait.’
India nodded, then slipped through the glass doors, into the buzzing ballroom. It took on an almost psychedelic quality now: the world was tilting at an odd angle; her experience with Khalil had sent her into another dimension. She made a beeline for the restrooms, ignoring the queue of Manhattan socialites waiting for a stall to free up and instead heading for a mirror. She braced her palms against the marble counter and stared at her flushed reflection and wild hair. There was no way she could face Ethan like this—even if she wanted to. Surely anyone would take one look at her and know exactly what she’d just been doing!
Pulling her phone from her bag, she loaded up a text message. She’d exchanged a few messages with Ethan to arrange the date, so had his number.
I’m so sorry, but I’m not feeling at all well. I didn’t want to interrupt your conversation, nor to risk making you ill. Thank you for a lovely evening.
‘Holy hell, what are you doing here?’
Khalil couldn’t hide the sneer from his face. He hated this man but, until now, he hadn’t realised that he’d been waiting a long time for the perfect opportunity to take his revenge. He had fantasised about making Ethan pay for what he’d done to Astrid, he just hadn’t known the perfect plan would land right in his lap. He curled his hand into a fist, dug deep into his pocket. For Astrid, he would have liked to punch him hard in that arrogant, pretty-boy face. For India, he wanted to shove him out of the nearest window. What the hell had she seen in this guy?
Khalil clenched his jaw, staring down at the inferior specimen, as the men Ethan had been standing with ebbed away, sensing an impending dispute.
‘I was invited,’ he drawled. ‘And you, Ethan? Looking to find the next wealthy heiress you can sink your teeth into?’
‘There’s no need.’ Ethan’s smile was the last word in smarmy. ‘My divorce settlement from your cousin was more than enough to set me up for life. I must thank you again for introducing us. You really made all this possible for me.’
Khalil’s temper was rock steady, except where his cousin was involved. Orphaned at only a few months old, she’d come to live with Khalil and was more like a little sister to him. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to protect her, and, in this instance, avenge her. And appease your own guilt, a little voice reminded him, and of course that was true.
‘Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go and find my date.’ Ethan’s leering smile at Khalil was the last straw.
‘Do you mean India?’ For the briefest moment, he regretted the words. India deserved better than this—to become collateral damage in his need for revenge. But he was also saving her from a future with this bastard. Maybe she’d even thank him one day.
Ethan stopped walking, his back straight, as he turned slowly to face Khalil. ‘How did you—?’ Ethan frowned. ‘Do you know her?’
‘We’ve just met, but I intend to know her a lot better.’
‘You can’t be serious,’ Ethan demanded, looking around, his face puce with outrage. A moment later, his phone buzzed and the blond man drew it from his pocket, his eyes darting with unmistakable anger as he read the text message.
She’d messaged him, rather than said goodbye? A small smile touched Khalil’s lips at the slightly anxious gesture. Ethan was disappearing into the recesses of his mind, barely worth his time.
‘I’m very serious,’ Khalil murmured, leaning closer, his expression showing exactly why the press had nicknamed him the Ruthless Prince. ‘So while you are alone tonight, you can imagine India and me, together. Believe me when I tell you she won’t be missing you at all, Ethan. I’ll make sure of that.’
