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“Avantika, you are free to do as you wish. I, too, am free to follow you around as well.”
“So, you’re following me? Like a jailer?”
He spread his hands out. “Pretty good jail, isn’t it? Fresh air, your favorite city spread around you, waiting for you to explore. More people should have prisons like this, don’t you think?”
“I don’t want you following me.”
“Too bad. As I told you before, I have you only for eleven days now. I won’t be spending even a moment of it without you unless it’s bedtime. The corner of his lips tipped. “I don’t mind sharing your bed, though. I wouldn’t mind that at all.”
Her mouth dropped open, red tinging her cheeks, and her lashes lowered, but she trained her eyes back on him. “You’re despicable to even suggest such a thing.”
His eyes roamed over her leisurely, taking in her denim-clad legs and the white, lacy camisole over which she’d worn a beige linen jacket. Her purse was strapped across one shoulder, and a professional camera was around her neck. Fuck! Her simplicity was very attractive. His eyes fell on her mouth. Her pink lips were set in a straight line, and irritation was pouring off her in waves. Yet, he wanted her. Only her. Ever since he’d touched her that first time in his jet and felt the soft skin of her jaw, his body had roared in approval, and now it remained in a semi-permanent state of arousal around her. The urge to grab her and taste those pouty lips was becoming difficult to contain. Would her lips be as soft as he remembered? Would her body melt against him now, as it had once? Would she taste as delicious as he remembered from his dreams?
“Stop gawking at me,” she ordered.
“Why?” he queried. “At least I’m honest in what I want. And what I want isyouin my bed, writhing under me as I remind you of how hot we can and will burn together.”
Her cheeks reddened even more.
“I will never have sex with you,” she shot back.
“Sex is too mild a word for what will happen when we finally get together, baby. Explosive, volatile, volcanic, an inferno…it will be all that and more.”
Her lips parted and she shook her head. “You’re bloody delusional.”
A corner of his lips tipped up. “Not delusional. Hopeful. After all, I have lived in hope for a very long time. Besides, there’s a saying that if you want something hard enough, the universe bows down to your wish and makes it happen. And what I want is you in my bed more than anything else.”
“I really want to hit you right now,” she tossed back, sounding more and more agitated. “You’re plain horrible and shameless. Using cheesy quotes and filmy lines to support your cause. It’s disgusting.”
“Never said I was nice.” He straightened the lapels of his jacket. “You have two choices here, Avantika—”
“Great, more conditions,” she scoffed.
He lifted a shoulder and dropped it. Nothing she said would deter him from his path…to her. And for that, he needed to spend time with her.
“As I was saying,” he began, “either we return to the hotel, and you can sulk in your room until lunch, or you decide where you want to go now and allow me to be with you. I can be quiet. I promise you won’t even know I’m there next to you.”
She rolled her eyes. “As if that will ever happen. You’ve always hated long silences. They make you impatient and irritable.”
Happiness flooded through him. He was delighted to note that she remembered so much about him as well. That she hadn’t erased him completely from her mind. She lifted her jaw and studied him for a moment, the wheels in her brain churning.
He stood still while she considered her next course of action. He wondered if she was stubborn enough to return to her room, or would she take his bait and venture outside with him by her side?
Her expression calmed, but the look in her dark eyes screamed retribution. And he knew right then and there that he was going to dislike whatever it was that she was plotting in her head.
Avantika swirled around and spotting something, started walking to her left. He trailed after her as she took the escalator down a tube station, checking something on her phone. Throughout the subsequent metro ride, Avantika was busy messaging someone. Her lips curved several times as her fingers flew on her phone. It only served to rouse his curiosity.
He was eager to know who it was that kept her engrossed. Was it her family or someone else? Was it a man for whom she smiled while sitting one seat away from Dev? His stomach soured at that thought.
Soon, they were walking outside in the open again, and ten minutes later, he knew exactly what she had planned for him.
“Bloody hell,” he cursed, looking around the swarming crowd.
Thousands of people flooded the streets. They were everywhere, standing on the sidewalks, on top of building terraces, and at their windows. The shops were all shut and covered with brown boards. Colorful graffiti art was painted on all those boards and walls. Stalls selling food and beverages were crowded with patrons. Stages with music systems were set up with different types of music thumping around. People of several nationalities, speaking in various languages, holding plastic cups of presumably some form of alcohol, were dancing. There were even families around with kids sitting on their parent’s shoulders. It was one huge, loud, and colorful visual. Thank God, he’d chosen to wear sneakers and jeans rather than his customary suit, else he would have stood out like a sore thumb here.
“What is this place?”
“It’s the Notting Hill carnival that happens every year,” she yelled over the music. “Isn’t it great? So colorful, so vibrant, and so many people.”
