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“Okay, fine, I’ll be there,” Rohan relented, walking toward the lounge. “By the way, did you look at the financial statements I sent you?”
“I did. Everything seems in order. All the transactions you marked are payments made to charities.”
“We’re paying the price of what you did…”
Words that he’d heard just before everything had changed. Words that, until now, had meant something else to him. His dream that night had shed a different light on her words after that note he’d found. Rohan grimaced.
He’d started digging through his birth father, Vaibhav’s old bank statements from the time he was part of the Fortuna Group, and the only thing that stood out was extensive donations to charity, many of which continued till date. He was aware that Fortuna supported several such organizations under the umbrella of its Corporate Social Responsibility, but if someone was being blackmailed and they needed to make payments, then doing it under the garb of charity was the easiest. However, he could be looking at it entirely wrong. Nevertheless, it was a good place to start searching.
“Why are you particularly worried about those charities?” Rithwik asked.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Rohan said, not wanting his brother to worry until he had a substantial lead. But his gut screamed that something was awry.
Rohan pushed open the door of the lounge and walked inside. Damn! Even at six in the morning, the place was jam-packed, with not a single vacant seat available anywhere. That’s why he hated flying commercial. Too many people. His people anxiety got triggered and his heartbeat accelerated. He breathed in and out several times until his heart rate settled. When he looked at the crowd again, he was fine.
His gaze darted around the seated patrons, his eyes halting on a familiar face. He sucked in a breath. He’d just been thinking about her, the woman with the doe-shaped eyes, and here she was as if conjured out of his imagination into reality. He tilted his head to study her from afar for a second.
“Rohan, are you there?” Rithwik asked.
“Yeah. I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Rohan disconnected the line.
His eyes fixed on the lone woman seated all by herself at a table, reading from a Kindle. She was dressed in black leather pants and an off-white sweater teamed with black calf-high boots. The ends of her long, dark hair were streaked with red, her signature look, as he knew from past encounters. Wispy strands of her glorious hair lined her cheekbones. Her full lips were painted a light pink and were drawn in a pout, focused as she was on whatever she was reading.
Fuck. She looked…amazing. Utterly gorgeous. He knew without her even looking up that her eyes were the warmest color of hazel he’d ever come across.
Jiya Deewan.
The one woman he ought not to be attracted to and yet was fascinated by. What was worse was that she was some years younger than him.
He’d been attracted to her from the second he’d laid eyes on her some months ago. An attraction that was doomed even before it had even begun. And hence, he’d never allowed it to become more.
Still, he couldn’t help but stare at her. Just a few seconds more, he told himself, and then he’d turn back around and go and wait at his allocated gate.
As if hearing his thoughts, Jiya looked up, and her doe-shaped eyes crashed with his.
Surprised flickered in her gaze for a brief moment before her entire expression transformed into one of pure delight. The smile she bestowed on him was large and cheerful. For a second, he was stunned by the sheer warmth shining on her face as her eyes fell on him. Him. She was genuinely happy to see him.
He sighed, walking toward her. There was no avoiding her now.
“Rohan, oh my God. How are you?” She stood and pulled him in a quick, friendly hug, surprising him. She was tall, but he was taller. Her head would just about touch his jaw, he noted.
Her fresh tropical scent washed over him, twisting something inside him, startling him. Seeing her happy face, he acknowledged her with a nod before stepping back from her. From whatever he’d observed of her in the past, Jiya had come across as someone who was vibrant, happy-go-lucky, and free spirited. They hardly knew one another, but he supposed they had enough people in common for her to greet him as she had. So, he ignored the pang that had hit him in the center of his chest when she’d hugged him so warmly...like she’d known him for years.
“Hi, Jiya.”
“Come join me,” she said. “All the other tables are occupied.”
He looked around, hesitant to engage with her. But he didn’t know how to get out of the situation without seeming rude, so he dropped his grey overcoat on the chair next to her, took a deep breath in and out, and sat down opposite her. He studied her for a long moment. It took him less than a second to note that she was openly studying him too, her eyes taking in every inch of him. A familiar rush of attraction washed over him, one that he found hard to deny. But deny it he would.
She and he were bound together by the most important people in their lives—his brother and her sister. Rithwik, Raashi, and Raashi’s other best friend, Keya Sehgal, had been tight since college. Also, Jiya’s best friend Rhea, Raashi’s sister-in-law, was married to Rohan’s closest friend Nirvaan Kapur.
Before tonight, he’d met Jiya only briefly in the past. They’d hardly spoken during those times, but with each meeting, he found himself thinking of her more often than not. It was quite strange that this one woman managed to rattle something inside of him when none other had been able to even crack past the frigid walls surrounding his heart. Nevertheless, he had to remember who she was related to and stay the fuck away from her.
“What brings you to London?” he asked casually. “Work or pleasure?”
She grimaced. “I was in Scotland for a management conference. The only flight back home that I was able to get at short notice was via London. What about you? Are you flying home, or are you en route to another country?”
“I had a meeting in London. But now, I’m returning home to Delhi.”
