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She shook her head.
“I don’t know. I thought I could do this, DV. I didn’t mean to lead you on. But I can’t. I’ve never done casual relationships. And sex just isn’t enough without something deeper to bind us together.”
Her words stung me like a whip.
After all these years, was that all she saw between us? Casual sex? Did she not feel the same torment that I did? Then again, she had walked away from our betrothal without a backward glance, so I doubted if she felt any torment at all.
“There’s nothing casual about what’s happening here, Tasha. Tell me you don’t feel the same,” I challenged fiercely.
She glared at me as if I’d kicked her puppy.
“Really? In that case, please enlighten me, Your Highness. What exactly is this? What are we to each other? Fuck buddies? Because I find it hard to believe that after years of avoiding me, you’ve suddenly fallen head over heels in love with me. Especially after I gave you your freedom.”
She was right. I hadn’t fallen in love with her suddenly. It had taken years of obsessing over her while denying my feelings to accomplish that little fact. But I could hardly say that to her. Not when she wanted to keep it fucking casual.
“We are whatever you want us to be,” I said bitterly.
Tasha shook her head and shot me a look loaded with contempt, and I flinched at the disappointment behind it. What did she expect from me?
“I have to go,” she said again, heading towards the door. And this time, I didn’t follow her. I didn’t stop her.
She paused at the door and looked at me, and the sight of her ravaged face made me feel guilty, but I didn’t know why. I wasn’t the one walking out on what was supposed to be the culmination of years of pent-up desire. I wasn’t the one walking out on the promise of us.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Tasha. Try and get some sleep,” I said hoarsely, forcing the words out.
She walked out with one last look at me.
I had to remind myself that I wasn’t here to win her back. I was in Paradiso for one thing only. I had to find the person who had played that nasty prank on Tasha, and I had to ensure her safety in this community. After that, I was going to walk away without a care.
Maybe I could fly Vinnie to Las Vegas for the weekend. She’d love that. But I didn’t know if I’d survive a full weekend of her inane chatter. She’d probably drive me to gambling, and with my luck, I’d lose my entire fortune at the baccarat tables.
I longed for the old days when I could lose myself in my work. I’d go deep undercover for months, and surface only when my mission was complete. Nowadays, the only missions I went on were sales missions.
Ever since I had become a partner in The Royal Guard, I was mostly chained to my desk and occasionally trotted out to parties to woo my fellow royals and the cream of Indian high society, and convince them that our company could provide the perfect solution to all their security problems.
Maybe it was time to stop schmoozing the rich and force Samar to give me an active role in the business. I was trained for it, after all. I could infiltrate any secure facility like a wraith, leaving no evidence that I had ever been there. What I didn’t know about breaking into a building wasn’t worth knowing. And I could follow someone for months on end, without them ever knowing that their shadow had an add-on. I knew Samar had a special equation with his team, and I had never interfered with the day-to-day running of the agency. But I was done playing safe.
When I retired from active service, it was because I had a responsibility to Tasha. I knew that at some point, I’d have to marry her and secure our future, even though I’d often thought that she’d be far better off if I died while on a mission in some obscure part of the world. At least,shewould have her freedom. But - quite without me realizing how it happened - I found it difficult to go without seeing Tasha’s gorgeous, grumpy face for months, while she had no idea I was something more than an idle royal who spent his days skiing in Gstaad or vegetating on someone’s yacht in the Caribbean. I missed her black scowls and the never-ending arguments about something completely irrelevant.
Which was why, three years ago, I returned from investigating an illegal oil pipeline in Moldova and put in my papers. A month later, I was a full partner in The Royal Guard and back on the party circuit playing the royal playboy to the hilt, as well as being Tasha’s unwilling guardian angel because over my dead body would I allow any of Samar’s striplings to guard her while I still had breath in my body.
That still held true.
Even if she was no longer my fiancée, I would do whatever it took to protect Tasha. Especially now that I knew how I had failed so spectacularly in that endeavour when she was a child. No one was going to hurt her ever again. Not on my watch.
CHAPTER9
TASHA
The bags under my eyes could easily be mistaken for sandbags in a war zone, I decided, as I inexpertly smeared on some concealer. When it did nothing to conceal the evidence of my sleepless night, I washed it off and slapped on some sunblock. With a swipe of peachy lip balm, I was as ready to face the world as I would ever be. And by the world, I meant DV.
I didn’t know how I could face him again, to be honest. I had led him on. And then I had chickened out of it without telling him why! But how could you tell a guy that you wanted him to love you as much as you loved him? Was there anything more pathetic than that? I had always prided myself on being tough. Last night, all that toughness had vanished, driven out of me by a fiery need for the man who haunted my dreams. The man who refused to leave me even after I left him.
It was his over-developed hero complex that made DV insist on staying here. He could have left this to Samar’s team, but for some stupid reason, he still felt bound to solve my problems for me. It wasn’t so easy to kick the habit of a lifetime, I guessed. But all of this made it very difficult for me to forget the humiliation of last night and move on with my life.
Sandhya was waiting for me at the gate, and we made our way slowly to the community dining area. We had just started on our breakfast when DV strolled into the dining room, looking fresh and rested as if he’d slept like a baby. His eyes were unreadable behind his aviators, but his face looked annoyingly perfect, unlike mine which looked puffy and lined at the same time.
The food turned to dust in my mouth at the sight of his broad shoulders looking sculpted in a Led Zeppelin t-shirt. I inhaled sharply at the memory of clutching at the same shoulders as I rode him like a bucking bronco last night, and promptly choked on a mouthful of dosa chutney.
