Chapter Ten
"So much for gratitude," Asad grumbled, and limped outside.
"I knew you were mentally unbalanced!" Zoya hissed. The cold winter air felt good on her flaming cheeks as they stood facing each other on the sidewalk. Shoppers passed by them, the sound of Santa's ringing bell could be heard, but the only thing Zoya could focus on was the memory of Asad telling Tanveer they were getting married tomorrow. He was totally nuts.
"Earth to Asad Ahmad Khan!" She focused on him, trying to figure out his expression. He looked like he was ready to kill someone. Maybe the reality of what he proposed had sunk in, or maybe he really was upset about her letting Najma down.
"What the hell was that woman talking about?" The trademark jaw clenching was back so Zoya knew he was royally peeved about something.
"What? How about explaining what you were talking about?" Zoya glanced over each shoulder. In small towns there was always someone ready to eavesdrop on a conversation. He must have sensed her apprehension since he grabbed her hand and started walking towards his car. He walked so quickly that she had to run to keep up. Zoya jerked to a stop, yanking him to a halt with her. Asad turned to glare at her.
He closed his eyes briefly before speaking. "Come on. Get in the car and let's go."
Zoya crossed her arms in front of her. "I'm not going anywhere until you answer my question." She raised her eyebrows expectantly while he took a few deep breaths.
"Zoya."
"Yes," she answered serenely, linking her hands together in front of her.
He sighed. "Get in the car because everyone from that stupid office is not-so-subtly staring at us through the window, and my foot feels like it needs to be amputated. So either plant a massive kiss on my lips right now or get in the car, okay?"
Zoya debated the kiss for a half a second. "Fine, let's go to your car," she said haughtily.
"I thought you'd see it my way," he said, grabbing her hand again and starting for his car. "Well, I didn't really have a choice, now did I?" Zoya huffed as they reached his Range Rover. Asad braced his arm on the SUV, sheltering her from the view of the office. She could see from his eyes that he was still irate. He stood close enough that the wind was laced with his cologne, and she felt the heat of his breath on her as he spoke. She ignored the twinge of excitement that teased her at his nearness. Her body was a traitor to her mind.
"Oh, I gave you a choice, but you took the chicken's way out," Asad whispered.
Zoya was about to open her mouth to make a smart reply when Santa jingled his way over to them. Santa, Zoya noticed with a frown, had a slight limp, a very disheveled appearance, and a tummy that looked like it had one too many beers in it. Asad shoved a five hundred rupee bill at the man without taking his eyes off her. Santa rewarded him by jingling the bell in his ear. Zoya burst out laughing. Asad cursed under his breath and opened the door for her. He grumbled something about small towns as he closed her door.
Five minutes later they were pulling up outside her home. It was the only place they could have complete privacy, but it was also a little unsettling to know that Asad was now entering her territory. Her house was her own private sanctuary, the only home that had ever truly been hers.
Neither of them said anything on the way. Zoya knew that if she spoke she was only going to end up yelling at him, and considering that his hands were white as he gripped the steering wheel she figured he'd had about all he could handle at the moment. Which was fine, because now she was out of a job and she had Tanveer launching an all-out war against her and the adoption. She truly hoped Asad was still as confident as he said he was about adopting Lily.
...
"This is your house?" Asad asked, shutting the ignition and leaning forward to get a better look.
"This is it," she said, her voice still standoffish.
It had taken them only minutes to cross the little village of Hope's Crossing. From what he saw of the town, through his haze was a picture perfect type of place. But he wasn't really interested in the town. His mind worked overtime trying to process everything. He felt like he was starring in some bizarre movie of himself. When had his life become so unpredictable?
He stared through the windshield, and his throat constricted involuntarily. It was so damn idyllic. It was small, ornate. There was cedar roping with dark red ribbons that framed the heavy molding on the windows and the pristine white porch. The white plump snowflakes that floated down from the sky only made it more magical.
He actually found himself unable to speak for a moment because never in his life had something ever evoked in him such a need to have a home. A real home. A house. With a wife. With kids. Hell, maybe even a white picket fence. But Asad Ahmad Khan was not your white picket-fence kind of man. No, he was the guy who lived in a penthouse surrounded by skylines and anonymity. Steel and glass. Money and ambition. Shallowness and greed. Loneliness.
"It may not be a mansion, Asad, but it's perfect for me." He heard her unlatch her seatbelt and he knew she was seconds from jumping out of the SUV.
"It's you. Totally you." It's beautiful, sentimental, nostalgic, pure Zoya. Her cheeks bloomed with that gorgeous blush he found himself utterly hooked on and those lips that made him curse the fact that they'd never slept together that night.
"Oh," Zoya said, furrowing her brow and looking out the windshield.
"What, no smart-ass retort?" he teased, feeling better for a moment. Then he pictured some jerk's hands on Zoya and he felt the need to bash his fist through the windshield. So he frowned. And then she frowned back at him.
"Let's go inside and see how we can straighten out this mess you got us into." She didn't give him a chance to argue as the door shut on his reply. Funny how she was the one giving him the cold shoulder.
He followed her up to the covered porch. They had a lot of straightening out to do, all right. He braced himself for a hell of a battle. She was so damn secretive about her life he wondered how he could feel such an intense connection with someone he knew so little about. But he'd found out way more than he'd bargained for thanks to that Tanveer woman.
He waited while Zoya fumbled with the old lock. Moments later he stood in her entranceway while she walked around turning on lights. He was struck by the homeliness. Feminine and cheerful, with pale yellow walls, deep trim and molding, and wide-plank pine floors scattered with brightly colored rugs. He followed her into the kitchen, where she had already started brewing a fresh pot of coffee. She took out cups and was banging things around a little too loudly.
"Zoya." His voice came out harsher than he intended, but he needed answers. He didn't want a cup of coffee and he didn't want to beat around the bush. "Care to tell me what that witch was talking about back there?"
"What do you mean?" she asked stiffly, her shoulders squared, her back ramrod straight. A part of him wanted to cross the distance between them and knead the tension out of her slender shoulders, to whisper and coax whatever she hid out of her. But he knew she wouldn't respond to that. He knew that she would see it as being weak.
"Don't play games with me, Zoya."
"I don't play games," she said, whipping around to face him."
He nodded, softening his features, his tone, hating that he had to ask something that was already killing him to think about let alone speak about. "Zoya, she said you were beaten and almost raped." He watched as every single speck of color drained from her face. "What happened?" He caught a faint quiver in her chin when he spoke.
"That's what this is about...what you're angry about?" she asked, her voice shaky, her eyes wide and so heartbreakingly vulnerable that he just wanted to walk over and hold her. Zoya never let her vulnerability show, which meant...he clenched his stomach, not able to breathe at the thought...it confirmed what he already suspected...her reaction to things...the night he'd touched her arm...her withdrawal from him sexually.
"Asad?"
He focused in on her pale face and nodded. "What did you think?"
"About your sister." She took a deep breath, her eyes filled with pain. "It's my fault that she killed herself. I missed the signs""
"God, you can't blame yourself. Of course I don't blame you for that. How could anyone?" He walked across the room, unable to stop himself from offering her comfort. "Zoya," he said roughly, gathering her against him. "I could never blame you." His arms tightened around her. He felt all the tension leave her body, and she wrapped her arms around him. He wanted to reassure her, comfort her. How could she blame herself for Najma's death? How could she hold more guilt than he? He had failed his sister. Not Zoya. He kissed the top of her head, the soft hair at her temples, his hands moving to stroke that tender spot on her neck. He wanted to shut out the rest of the world and stay in this House.
"If anyone is to blame it's me. I'm the one who turned my back on her." He had never admitted that out loud. He had spent most of his adult life feeling angry at Najma, but deep down he knew he'd given up on her. He could have tried one more time. He felt Zoya take a steadying breath against him and slowly step out of his arms. Just like that, like a flurry of clouds suddenly taking away the sun, Zoya put distance between them.
She looked up at him and he wanted to know what she saw, uncomfortably aware that he hadn't given a damn in a long time what someone thought of him. Once he'd become wealthy and successful he'd thought that was all he needed. He had made it and nothing could touch him. But now, standing here in this tiny kitchen, with her beautiful face and glorious eyes staring up at him, he questioned all of it. Everything he had achieved, he wondered if it was enough.
"We all do what we have to do to survive. You gave her so much. No one can blame you for finally taking care of yourself." How did she do it? How could she see through him like that?
She turned to get the coffee.
"Zoya?"
"Mm-hmm," she murmured, stepping around him to pull out a carton of milk from the fridge, as though nothing had happened, as though they were merely casual acquaintances about to share a cup of coffee.
"You never answered my question." He caught the tremor in her hand as she poured the coffee. She was a master at avoidance.
"Are you hungry?" she asked, peering into her fridge.
He shut the fridge and she frowned up at him.
"You're not going to let this go are you?"
He shook his head.
"It's really not as dramatic as she made it sound," Zoya said, and he knew she was trying to act casual as she walked passed him to sit at the round table. He followed her, picking up his mug of coffee, sitting across from her at the table.
"So then it shouldn't be too difficult for you to talk about it," Asad said, watching her eyes flash with annoyance. He took a sip of his coffee, his fingers gripping the handle tightly, waiting for her to speak. He was half expecting her to tell him she wasn't going to talk about it.
She cleared her throat after taking a long drink. "It was one of my first cases I'd been assigned to. She was a teenager, living with an abusive, alcoholic father. Long story short, when she didn't return my calls I found out she had gotten approval to get out of our system." She traced the rim of the smooth cup and he could tell she was getting lost in the memory. He felt his muscles tense in anticipation of where this story was going.
"I had a gut feeling that things didn't magically get better at home. So one night, I stopped by their place. I was a total rookie," she said with a small laugh that didn't hold an ounce of amusement. "I heard yelling. Men's voices. Then I heard Meer's voice, but it was more of a scream."
Asad held his breath and waited for her to continue.
"At that point I should have called in for help, but I was young, and stupid, and I ran in there and, God, did I learn a lesson that night," Zoya said with laugh that was so self-critical, so deprecating that Asad felt his throat tighten. She looked up at the ceiling, blinking back tears that she couldn't hide from him. "Her dad was gone and two of his friends had her pinned down on the sofa, half naked. And uh...I was no match for them," she said, turning her eyes to him.
And at that moment he hated more than he ever thought he could hate someone. Zoya's eyes didn't leave his when she continued.
"They pushed me down before I could run, before I could think of how to defend myself. They laughed, they slapped me around, ripped my clothes. The harder I fought, the harder they laughed. They touched me and when I thought...when I thought that was it, Mira came up from behind and whacked the guy that was on top of me with a frying pan. We managed to knock the other one unconscious too. We ran out to my car and drove to the police station." Asad was torn between wanting to hold her and wanting to smash something. He knew, based on her stiff posture, the tilt of her chin and her cool tone that she didn't want him to touch her. And he knew it was because she would lose it if he did. That stranglehold she had on her emotions would come undone.
But he couldn't sit still anymore. He couldn't get the image of Zoya being thrown on the ground and touched by those animals out of his mind. Asad had lived through his own hell. He wasn't a naive man. But hearing this, hearing someone try and hurt someone so good, someone he cared for, made him want to go out and inflict some serious bodily harm.
"They didn't"uh"" How the hell could he finish that sentence? He gripped the side of the thick pine table as Zoya shook her head.
"No. And I have no regrets for going in there that night. If I hadn't gone in, they would have raped her, Asad," she said, emotion returning to her eyes, softening her voice...and ultimately melting his heart. "I only regret not having a plan, walking in there by myself. The next morning I registered for self defense classes." He knew they were both thinking about that night in his bed, when she'd told him she could have knocked him to the ground. He almost wanted to smile with pride for her, strength and determination, and that unwavering courage. Then he thought of the last night when she was in his arms and had stopped him from making love to her. She was still afraid.
"What happened to them?"
Zoya shrugged. "Serving a ten year sentence."
"You know that wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you."
...
Zoya nodded absently. She felt warmed by the way he was looking at her, the admiration she heard in his voice. Zoya couldn't believe she had revealed so much. She hadn't spoken about that night in years. But somehow it felt right to tell him, to share that part of her. She had been acutely aware of his tension, had seen his knuckles turn white as she spoke. And try as she might to deny it, it felt so wonderful to have someone care for her. It was just like when he found her in the snow, when he spoke up to Tanveer for her."
"Zoya, about Lily."
Zoya felt her stomach flip flop. "You can raise her, Asad, I know you can do it."
"But it would be better if I were married. I want every chance to win this. To get Lily forever."
Of course a married couple would be better but that didn't mean her. "While that is true, your case is solid""
"Do you remember what you said to me this morning?"
Zoya shook her head slowly, even though what she had said was dawning on her.
He leaned forward so that there was barely any distance between them at the table. "You said you would do anything to help me."
Zoya's heart beat ferociously. "I think marrying you is a little beyond help."
"Look at it like a business arrangement."
He was nuts. He actually thought they should get married. He had gotten it into his undeniably handsome head that he was going to rescue his niece. Now he needed to figure out the logistics and she was the easiest solution.
"Business arrangement?"
"You and I get married. You move into my place, help me raise her. I'll pay you for your help."
"I can't let you pay me." Zoya crossing her arms across her chest.
"Why not? You're providing me with a service."
"So am I the nanny slash housekeeper?"
"No, I want you to help me care for her. I have a housekeeper and cook already. I need you to guide me, and take care of the day to day stuff that a baby would need."
"How long is this arrangement for? Am I going to drop my life, sell my house, and move in indefinitely?"
"That's the gist of it. And you'll have enough time to continue school. I'll pay your tuition. I don't want you to give that up."
This was ridiculous. Zoya felt a nervous shiver creep up her spine as he stared determinedly at her. It was easy for him to say drop everything and leave. Her house, her home was everything to her. It was the first place that no one could take away from her and now...
"Zoya, I need you, Lily needs you." He needed her? It was wonderful to think that he meant her, but she knew of course he meant that he needed her for Lily. And Lily, how could she let go of the little baby that she already desperately loved?
"I couldn't possibly live with you though, you, you're...you're..."
"Handsome, rich, and irresistible?"
"Obstinate, arrogant, and domineering."
"Ah, but that's all a front."
"There's really a guy with a heart of gold under there?"
"Exactly."
"So, if I agree to this..."
"We go to the court day after tomorrow. I'll have my lawyers take over the adoption process. I'm not going to lose Lily. We're not going to lose her." Zoya believed him, but marriage? Living together? She had to think of it as a business arrangement. Lily would have a great home with her uncle. Zoya would be able to sleep at night knowing she'd fulfilled Najma's last wish, and she would get to be in Lily's life. What more could she want?
"In the meantime, if you want to get your things from your house, we'll lock it up, and get you settled into my place in the city," Asad said, as casually as if he'd mentioned grabbing a sandwich for lunch.
Zoya stared blankly at him. "Now?"
He nodded. "I thought we had gone over this?"
"Settling into your place, like right away?"
"We're obviously going to have to live together in order to be the family we say we are to adopt Lily. This is your area of expertise, Zoya. I shouldn't be the one telling you how this works. We can come back here on the weekends or something."
Zoya felt her heart beat painfully. "Asad. This is a pretend marriage. Once you get Lily, I'm out of the picture." She didn't realize those words would or could actually cause her pain. For a second she could see herself with Asad and Lily, as a real family. But she'd never be the right woman for Asad. What if one day, when his attraction to her wore off, he'd decide he didn't need her around? She couldn't let herself get attached to him, or the idea of being a real family.
"Zoya, what are you worrying about now?"
"In the span of two hours I lost my job, am getting married, adopting a baby, moving out of my house to God knows where""
"My penthouse," he said with a laugh, "is not God-knows where. It's like an hour from here."
"Fine, so I'm leaving my little town for some playboy penthouse." She drummed her fingers against the table while he laughed.
"You really have got me all wrong don't you," he said, smiling.
"You did have that basket of female toiletries at the cabin."
His loud laugh interrupted her again. She glared at him.
"So you assumed that I bring hoards of women up to my cabin, seduce them, and then give them gift baskets?" His grin was starting to bother her, and so were his logical explanations.
"You're the only woman who's been up to my cabin, Zoya," he said, his voice low and throaty. "That basket was left by the designer."
Her hands settled around her mug of cold coffee. "This is not easy. I haven't had time to process anything."
"Hey, who found who, remember?" he said gently. She stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. She had found him, and he was doing exactly what she'd wanted. Could she fault him for trying to make this all work? So what was the big deal to marry Asad temporarily? Her stomach flopped over. Marry him. Sham or not, it was a huge deal.
"Why don't we take this one day at a time. Get your stuff, settle into my place, we get married. Help me set up for Lily's arrival, and then we'll see what happens."
"You know, I remembered that I really need to, um, do something. I'll be right back," Zoya said and bolted out of the room. She ran into her bedroom, feeling like a complete moron. She didn't hear him walk in and jumped at the sound of his voice. Asad filled up her tiny bedroom like a lion in a dollhouse.
"Why are you running away from me?"
Her eyes went to the pile of Christmas presents she'd purchased for Lily. Perfect. She could get them ready. But when she started to turn, Asad gently reached out to grab her wrist. She didn't try to pull away. His touch felt decadent, impossible to refuse.
"Why did you end things the other night?"
She felt her face ignite at the memory. Her eyes darted to her antique bed and she couldn't stop the image of the two of them sprawled across it. What was he doing to her? She finally looked up at him, and realized he stood way too close. And they were both standing way too close to her bed. Years of self-control and self-preservation could be easily tossed out the window when she stood this close to this man. And why did he have to look so good without a shave? It was that darn firm jaw, the eyes that were so...
"Why aren't you answering my question?"
Zoya looked up at him guiltily. "What was the question again?"
Then he smiled, that arrogant, mischievous smile that somehow didn't seem to bother her anymore. "The other night, when we were about to make love." His voice turned throaty and his fingers began circling her wrist.
"We weren't about to make love," she said shaking her head, lying through her teeth.
"Really?" he said, lowering his face to hers, probably to make sure she could see that he wasn't buying her innocent act for one second.
She shook her head. "Nope. It was just""
"You can't claim it was the alcohol because you were within your own prescribed limit of intoxication."
She frowned. Damn him and his smug reminder."
"She crossed her arms. "You're very amusing, Asad." She had to pause since there was no use trying to speak over his laughter.
"One minute you're telling me deeply personal information and the next you're lying."
"I don't lie."
"So you don't think we were on our way to bed together that night?"
She forced herself to look up at him. "It was a momentary lack of judgment. You rescued me from a blizzard, so naturally""
"You're a virgin, aren't you?"
Asad Ahmad Khan had no discretion whatsoever. Zoya wished her ancient floor would give in and swallow her whole.
"What on earth makes you think that?"
"I'm starting to piece two and two together."
"Two and two makes four."
He took a step closer to her. Her body temperature rose by at least ten degrees. They needed to get off this topic and out of her bedroom.
"You know, your avoidance is only proving my theory," he said, again taking a step toward her.
She refused to back up in case she looked cowardly, but his proximity made it even harder to ignore her attraction to him. "You're not usually a liar, but you are a master at avoidance."
Zoya sighed theatrically.
"So, I'll ask you again, Zoya. Are you a virgin?"
"Stop saying that stupid word," she said finally, emphasizing stupid with a poke into his rib cage.
He chuckled. Low and deep. She glared at him until he stopped.
"What word? Virgin?"
She sighed and nodded stiffly.
"Stop laughing at me."
"You think I'm making fun of you?"
She nodded.
He moved slowly and her breath caught in her throat as she watched his eyes take on that warmth that had the ability to turn her knees into jelly. He softly touched her face, his thumb grazing her lower lip. She felt a heat spread through her and was unable to stop herself from turning her face into the palm of his hand. And then, shocking both of them, she kissed his skin. She heard a low sound from Asad's throat and then she was in his arms, feeling the solid heat of his body against hers. She felt her heart beating as rapidly as his. All she did was feel. He trailed kisses down her face until he reached her lips. Zoya wanted nothing more than to kiss him.
"You are the last person I would ever make fun of. Ever," he said in a low voice.
She felt her body melding into his as her arms wrapped around him.
"I've never had so much respect for another human being." It was sweet, sweet torture, hearing him say this to her and touch her. "God, you make me want things, Zoya." He groaned, shattering all her defenses. She returned his kiss with the same desire, the same understanding. She couldn't walk away from him, from this glimpse of heaven he offered. He offered himself, his niece"a family.
Asad slowly pulled back, his eyes still dark with desire. Zoya felt her body tremble, felt the loss of not having his lips on hers.
"Marry me," he said gruffly, gently brushing her hair off her face.
Zoya felt her heart swell and she knew she couldn't say no anymore. She nodded, knowing that nothing would ever be the same.
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