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Cheeks pink, Anya spluttered. “First of all, we weren’t smooching in public, we thought we were alone, and second of all...” Anya seemed to have realized what she’d betrayed for she slapped her hand over her mouth. “This is inappropriate.”
“I agree. Now if only that stunt master who keeps flirting with you realized he’s got no chance against my dad.” Pride dripped from that last sentence.
Simon pushed the door open, unwilling to swallow his curiosity. Unwilling to just watch from the sidelines any longer. “Who’s this guy hitting on my girlfriend?”
Meera squealed and threw herself at him. “Dad, you’re back.”
He kissed the top of his daughter’s head, while his gaze met Anya’s over it. A soft pink crested her cheeks, her eyes wide and beautiful. “I finished the meeting early in Thailand. So who’s this guy?”
“Oh, he thinks he’s a total stud, Dad,” Meera said, rolling her eyes. “But don’t worry. Anya only has eyes for you.”
“Hey,” Anya protested, throwing a scarf at Meera, that fluttered to the ground midway. “Stop spying on me for him.”
“Well, neither Dad nor I want to lose you and everything’s fair in love and war.”
Simon laughed. “So much for your trust in your old man, huh?”
“I don’t know how it was done in your generation, Dad, but in this new era,” Meera said cheekily, “you actually have to spend time with your woman if you want to keep her. Especially someone as hot and in demand as Anya.”
When Simon would’ve swatted her on her shoulder, she slipped away from him with a grin. “Now, I have to be off before Virat sir bites my head off again.”
She was off and out of the room, like a storm, leaving a tense silence behind. Simon closed the door and clicked the lock into place. He stood leaning against the door, watching Anya as she collected the assortment of papers and clothes they’d strewn around.
“How long is she going to be out this afternoon?”
“Rehearsals and then archery class and then stunt practice...at least three hours.”
“Good.”
She sucked in her breath in a soft gasp.
“Are you into this...stunt master stud?” he asked into the silence.
Frowning, she looked up. “No. I don’t change my mind about who I want in a matter of days.”
“Is he bothering you?”
“Not at all. I think he’s more in awe of Vikram than he is genuinely interested in me. He keeps asking a thousand questions about him. He’s awkward and clumsy, even worse at flirting than I am.”
“And yet he’s poaching on my territory?”
She raised a brow, her chin tilting up. “What am I? A pheasant for him to steal?”
“What you are, Angel, is...mine,” he said, loving the taste of it on his tongue.
Without waiting for her answer, he walked across the room and locked the connecting door into his room.
Then he went to the king bed, sat down on her side and proceeded to remove his shoes and socks. He pulled his dark gray shirt out of his trousers and undid his cuffs. He unbuttoned his shirt all the way through and then, only then, did he look at the quiet woman still sitting on the floor.
“Come here.” Now that he’d decided he wanted her, his control was hanging by a thread. For all that she’d boldly asked him to go to bed with her, he knew how inexperienced she was. He didn’t want to spook her by showing how desperately he needed her, didn’t want to scare her even though all he wanted was to devour her whole.
Her teeth bit into her lower lip. Her gaze landed on his chest and then skidded away. “How did the trip go?”
Feeling devilishly wicked, Simon shrugged off his shirt completely and went to work on the waistband of his trousers. He’d never been more thankful for all the hands-on construction projects he took on, for his body had remained lean and fit. “As well as could be expected.”
He’d undone the button on his pants when she whispered, “Simon?”
“Hmm...yes, Angel?”
