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Luckily, his attention had been quickly drawn away by a costar of his. And whatever spell, imagined or real, had woven between them, had been broken.
“And yet you presume to know everything about me...”Those words of his haunted her.
He had been right. Who was she to moralize to anyone else? She had not only criticized him, but she had attacked his worth as a person.
Naina sat down on a comfortable lounger and pulled her cell phone out of her clutch to text Virat. She’d had enough of the party and the loud music.
She had introduced herself to a lot of people, she’d danced, she’d shamelessly fan-girled over one Urdu poet that Papa and she had adored for years by reciting his own poem back at him, she had laughed at the not-so-funny joke by an actor who had been called the latest wonder boy to breeze into the industry. The same one she’d thought was cute.
For all his gorgeous features and ripped body, Naina had found him deeply boring. Really, the man-child had talked about himself—his workout regimen, his Instagram followers, the love letters he received from his rabid, female fans professing undying love to his perfectly chiseled abdomen—for more than half an hour. Without saying anything of significance concerning the arts or films or theater or anything.
Holding her arm up, she moved her phone around to get a signal. She was about to go find Virat in person when the huge double doors of the library opened. And in walkedthe very manshe’d wanted to avoid, not just for tonight, not just this week, but for the rest of her life.
Vikram hadn’t noticed her yet. She’d turned off most of the lights, leaving only the dim lamp next to her switched on. Not until he reached the pool of soft light thrown by the lamp did he see her.
“I didn’t realize anyone else needed to escape that madness,” he said after a beat of silence. In the near dark, his voice sounded impossibly deep, sliding over her skin like a note of music.
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Couldn’t find the words past her dry mouth and the rapid drumbeat of her heart in her ears.
“Are you all right?” he asked, concern filling his voice.
Naina took a deep breath and pitched her voice lower than usual. “I am. Thank you. I just...”
“You were clearly not enjoying the party.”
“I was. I mean, I am. How do you know, anyway?”
“I was watching you in the other room.” He raised his hands and backed up a step when she frowned. “In a non-creepy way, that is. There’s something very familiar about you and I was trying to remember if we had met.”
Heat poured into Naina’s cheeks and she ducked her head. That feeling of being consumed by his gaze returned. She looked up to find him studying her intently and she was immensely grateful she’d kept her mask on when she’d walked into the library. “No. I don’t know you.” She smiled at her own words. “I mean Idoknow who you are.”
She pointed a finger at his unmasked face. He was wearing a white shirt, unbuttoned at his throat, his hair a little bit on the longer side right now. The subdued light from the lamp only served to highlight the beautiful symmetry of his features. “I wondered why you clearly touted the rules of the party. But then I realized you’d have been recognized even with a mask on. Your face is certainly perfect enough,” she blurted out and then instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push myself and my compliments into your space. I’ve learned recently how much I presume...” She cleared her throat and looked away. “Sorry.”
“Since I was the one who intruded on your solitude, shall we call a truce?”
She nodded.
“May I sit down?”
“Yes, but it’s literally your parents’ house. I should be the one to—”
“No, please stay. That way, we can be alone together. Instead of being forced to socialize.”
Her suddenly teenaged heart went pitter-patter at that. “Why are you hiding?”
“I usually come to these parties just to keep an eye on...things.” He folded his tall, lean form next to her with movements that were sheer poetry in motion. “I promised my brother I’d give his friend a lift home. He had to leave suddenly.”
She straightened instantly. “Wait, Virat already left? But he said...” She flushed furiously when he saw Vikram studying her with a raised brow.
“Ah...that’s why you were waiting for him here? In the dark. In secret. You should know, Virat is notorious for changing his girlfriends as easily as he changes actors for his projects.”
“What?”
“He left with that new pop singer.”
There was a strange gentleness in his voice that enveloped her. “Why are you telling me that?”
“It’s better to cut your losses now rather than have your heart trampled later on by Virat. He’s ditched you and whatever exciting, private tryst you’d both planned and gone home with another woman.”
