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He enjoyed seeing her perturbed…by him.
Sheena quickly lifted her mother’s hand and kissed it. “You don’t need to worry about a thing, Mom. I’m fine, I promise. Why don’t you return inside? I’m sure your guests are looking for you. I’ll join you in a moment.”
As if on cue, her mom’s phone rang. She answered it, walking away. Only when her mother had disappeared down the corner did Sheena turn her gaze back to him.
“Are you going to come out, or are you going to pretend I didn’t see you?” Sheena stormed.
He stepped out of the corner and stood in front of her. “Hello again, Princess.”
“Don’t call me Princess.” She threw him a dark look. “Eavesdropping is not nice, has no one ever told you that?”
“They might have,” he shrugged, “But I tend to do what I want.”
“Asshole.”
“Watch your mouth. I don’t appreciate you name calling.”
Her eyes flared. “Do I look like I care, asshole?”
“Such foul words from such a pretty mouth!” He deliberately ran his gaze down her form from head to toe, and then back up again, lingering on her lips far longer than needed. He moved closer to her. Sheena’s fist balled, but she remained in place, staring at him like he was a fly beneath her heel. God! She was a proper spitfire.
“So, Princess, you’re husband hunting, is it? And I heard you specifically asked about me. I didn’t know I managed to create such an impact on you,” he deliberately taunted. “It’s a pity your mom rejected me without even giving me a chance.”
“What? NO… It wasn’t like that.” She shook her head angrily. “You sneak into my house like a thief, and then you listen in on a private conversation. And yet you have no remorse. You act like you’re above everything and everyone.”
He gave her a naughty grin. “Iamabove everything. However, I haven’t been above you yet.”
Her cheeks reddened, and her breath hitched as the innuendo in his words sunk in. Seeing her flustered was quickly becoming the highlight of his evening. She was no longer sad, at least. Although, why he even cared about that made no sense.
“How dare you?” she fumed.
He took a step closer to her. “I dare where others don’t, Princess. It’s who I am. You ought to know that about me, now that you clearly know my identity.”
“Simply knowing your name doesn’t mean I know more about you. I stopped following gossip magazines years back.”
“Why? Is it because of what happened to you ten years ago?”
She gasped. That earlier glimpse of sorrow on her face returned, this time morphing into something larger. Fuck. He immediately regretted bringing up her past so callously. He, of all people, ought to know how the past defined and shaped you.
She spun around, intending to walk away, but he couldn’t let her go like that. He clasped her shoulder and turned her around. Caught by surprise, she stumbled and fell against his chest. He gripped her waist. The shock in her gaze gave way to something else. Something potent and deeper. The very air around them charged.
Without thinking, he hauled her closer. She was plastered against him now, her breasts crushed to his chest, her hands splayed on his shoulders, her mouth a mere inch from his. Her scent washed over him. It was soft, subtle…intriguing… Like her. Something shook loose inside his chest. All of a sudden, he ached to learn her scent, to press her closer and learn the softness of her mouth.
Her hands dug into his shoulders. His hands curled into her waist, unable to release her. She stared at him as if she, too, was caught in whatever madness had descended upon him. Her eyes warmed, and she let out a shaky breath.
God! She was so beautiful. One taste. A single taste was all he wanted, and he was going to take it. His mouth lowered; her face tipped up to meet his.
Suddenly, his phone beeped, breaking into the moment. She shifted a step away. Immediately, he felt the loss of her warmth. She stared at him as if trying to make sense of what had just occurred between them. But he had to go, before the urge to claim her mouth took over his mind and made him do something he’d regret. He backed a step and then another before he turned and headed to the back gate, where his car was waiting for him.
Sheena Sehgal was not meant for him. In the words of her own mother, he was not her type. She needed someone steady, faithful and committed to her. He could not be that man for her. Not when he’d been waiting for someone else to accept him for a long time now. He let out a deep breath. It was time to head home and to his reality.
3
“You held a knife to Rajiv Mehra’s throat?” Keya asked, shocked.
“Yes.”
“And head butted him?” Keya confirmed.
