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His pushing her to discuss that night was irking her to no end. She dropped her glass on the side table and stood. Swiveling, she began to walk away from him.
“Where are you going?” His surprised voice followed her.
“Anywhere that is not near you is far enough for me,” she said without facing him.
“You can’t run away from me when you don’t like what I have to say.”
“Watch me.”
She took another step forward, but Dev caught her left hand in his and pulled her back. Before she could even blink, he lifted her hand to his mouth and bit the soft skin on the back of her hand. Just like he used to in the long past.
She gasped. Her heart leapt, and flames erupted on her skin. More memories from the past swamped through her and, for a second, she was lost, suspended between the past and the present. Dev pulled her a little closer, and his scent surrounded her. She recognized it. Leather and musk. God! It was the same fragrance that had haunted her dreams for years despite her trying her damnedest to forget him. It made her mad that she still remembered what he smelled like.
She forced herself to recall where she was. Dev caressed her hand with his thumb as his lips continued to trace her skin. Something zinged at the base of her spine, but she ignored it.
What she couldn’t ignore was the rush of old feelings and memories. They battled with her mind for dominance. Forcing her to remember him and the time she’d spent with him years ago. Forcing her to accept what only this one man had ever made her feel. She rejected those feelings with vehemence.
She tried to pull her hand back, but he held it tight, keeping his mouth on her hand.
“Leave my hand,” she demanded.
He spoke against her skin. “I quite like the feel of your hand in mine, and my mouth on your skin. It feels familiar, right?”
It was, indeed, insanely familiar. She stared at her hand in his for a brief second, remembering how, at one time, she had reveled in how perfectly her palm had fit in his. How still… Shaking herself out of those disturbing thoughts, she tried to tug her hand from his once again, but he refused to let go.
Molten anger rushed through her. It was mainly directed at him for touching her so freely, and if she were being honest, she was a bit mad at herself for all the strange emotions she was feeling in his presence.
“Mr. Luthra… Leave. My. Hand.”
He smiled against her skin. “Mr. Luthra? So formal. Call me Dev.”
“No.”
He licked the back of her hand, and her temper flared. Lifting her unfinished martini from the table, she poured it down his head.
He jerked back, dropping her hand. The look of shock on his face was priceless. Good. Now he knew that she wasn’t some meek girl he could behave with as he wished.
“Bloody hell, Avantika,” he sputtered. “What is wrong with you?”
She gave him a sweet smile. “You’re a fucking asshole.”
“Wow, first you throw a drink on me, and now you’re name-calling?” He shook his head. “How very mature of you!”
“And how very mafia of you to touch a woman without her consent. Is that what you’ve become now?”
His eyes pooled with anger, but now she wasn’t scared of him. His touching her like he had a right to do so had ensured it. She could and would deal with him as she saw fit.
“Answer me,” she said in a calm voice that belied her rage.
He held his hands in the air in a placating gesture and retreated a step from her. She exhaled a heavy breath and spun around.
“Uh, Avantika, where exactly are you going?” he asked again.
“I’m sure there’s a place in this big ass jet that can give me some space from you,” she said over her shoulder.
“Straight behind you, the door at the end.” His tone dripped with amusement. It irritated her further. She marched on.
“Run all you want, Avantika,” he said to her departing back. “But I will always catch you.”
