Chapter Seven
Zoya pretended to sink more comfortably into the couch as Rehaan sat beside Asad. Meanwhile, she wasn't freaking comfortable. This might just be the most nerve-racking experience of her life. The man she wanted to want was side by side with the man she shouldn't want, the first watching her with amusement she didn't understand, the other with an angry glare she didn't appreciate.
Trying to build up the confidence she'd had before the scarring incident, she batted her eye lashes at Rehaan. According to the seduction book, she had to be bold, and she couldn't be afraid to show interest. She had to let the object of her affections know he had a chance with her, and just how far she would go to be with him.
"Tell me about yourself," she said with a forced smile. "I'm interested in every detail, and I would enjoy nothing more than sitting here and listening."
Asad gave his friend's shoulder a hard shove. "All right. You are now officially dismissed."
Rehaan leaned back, crossing his arms at his middle and an ankle over a knee. "Why would I leave? My schedule is wide-open right now, and I've got a past to unveil."
Asad gave him an angry glare and focused more intently on Zoya. "A new company policy has just been instated. No flirting with the staff. Ever."
"But I wasn't flirting." Trying to flirt would be a more accurate description. "Learning about my new employer will give me an idea about what to expect on the job." The one at ARS now, and later the one as Rehaan's (possible) forever girlfriend.
"Since it's for the job I just hired you for..." Asad shifted, his knee brushing against hers, making her gasp. "How about I tell you all about me?"
"You? Talk about yourself?" Her breathless tone embarrassed her, but she continued anyway. "Don't be ridiculous."
"Yes, Asad," Rehaan said, no longer fighting the smile. "Go ahead and tell us all about your life. We are figuratively dying of curiosity."
A soft animallike growl rose from Asad, the intensity of it baffling her. "Aren't you needed elsewhere, Rehaan?"
What was his deal? He was acting like a jealous boyfriend who'd" She fought another gasp, this one steeped in shock. Was he jealous? No. No, of course not. As a one-and-done man, such an emotion was beneath him. Right?
"Schedule's wide-open, remember?" Rehaan rubbed his hands together. "Start with your first memory as a child and end with your secret crush on""
"Go." Asad pointed toward the door.
"Me," Rehaan finished with an outright laugh. He tried to cover the sound with a cough, then glanced at his wristwatch. "Well. I might have overstated my availability." He cleared his throat and stood, already walking away. "I think I hear" What's that, Samar?" he called, though no one had said anything. "You need me? No problem. I'm on my way." He paused in the doorway to wink at Zoya. "We'll have to do this again sometime."
"Yes, please." Had it been love at first sight? No. Was it a romance in the making? Maybe. As far as first interactions went, it wasn't the worst she'd ever had. Go, me!
Asad peered at her for a long while, silent and brooding. "Want to tell me what that was about?"
"No, actually, I don't." He would just give the information to Rehaan, maybe even warn him away.
The purr of a very large engine registered, followed by the sound of crunching gravel. Through the crack in the curtains, she caught a glimpse of a brand-new, luxurious RV. Asad had been dead serious about the signing bonus.
Tides of excitement boosted her to her feet.
"That's really mine? No matter what?"
"Are you accepting my job offer?"
And see her dream of becoming a paid artist come true at last? "Yes!"
He slowly unfolded from his seat, towering over her, both menacing and protective. "Then it's yours. No matter what."
"Thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you, Asad." She wanted to hug him. She wanted to climb him like a mountain. She settled for patting his shoulder. "I will be forever grateful."
His gaze locked with hers, flames practically dancing in those brown eyes. "I don't want your gratitude, Zoya."
The rough tone of his voice made her breath catch. She waited, staring up at him as her heart drummed out of control, but he never told her what he did want.
* * *
Zoya wondered. In a single day, her world had been dumped upside down and turned inside out. Again.
After months of sleeping in a patchwork tent, she'd finally slept in a real bed, utter softness enveloping her. She'd taken a hot shower in a bathroom of her own, lingering until the steam died out. She'd eaten her food anytime a hunger pang hit, and had drunk a tall glasses of juice anytime her mouth went dry.
Life was suddenly, amazingly perfect, and in the bright light of the new morning, sprawled in her new bed in her new RV, she laughed. The queen-size bed consumed the back of the vehicle, the sheets a decadent caress against her skin. No more fearing the coming winter, warmed by old clothes, ratty blankets others had discarded, fires she'd started, and finicky rays of the sun.
A brand-new cell phone rested on the nightstand. An actual phone with apps and everything. The fridge was fully stocked, even though she'd devoured enough food to feed an army.
She lacked only one thing. Someone to share her good fortune. She imagined Asad lying beside her, his strong arms embracing her, his warm breath tickling her hair, and tendrils of electric heat curled around her. Silly Zoya. He might be her well wisher, but there was no white knight lurking underneath his beautiful he-s**t shell. He was temporary. She was forever.
"Knock, knock," the male in question said as he entered the RV without knocking. "Rise and shine, thornbush."
"Thornbush?" She sat up, not bothering to clutch the comforter to her chest. She'd fallen asleep with her clothes on, for which she was suddenly grateful. Seeing him set off a chain reaction of sensations inside her. Tingles along her flesh.
"I'm trying out different nicknames until I find the one that works for you," he said with a shrug.
"What's wrong with the usual honey and sweetheart?"
"They don't fit you."
Wow. Okay. Talk about a major punch in the gut. But she sucked it up and offered him the brightest smile she could manage.
He rolled his eyes. "It's a good thing. You're memorable. The others were not."
Oh.
"Well, here's an idea," she said in an effort to mask her delight. "Try Zoya. It's easy. Say it with me, Zooyy-aa."
"Zoooyyyaaa."
She giggled. He laughed, then held out two paper coffee cups, the scent of caffeine, sugar and cream wafting from the rims. "You want one?"
"Yes!"
He placed both on the granite countertop in the small kitchenette. Just out of her reach. A clear incentive to "rise and shine."
"You are a cruel, cruel man."
"I do what I must." He propped his shoulder against the frame of the open doorway, looking inhumanly beautiful in a dark pin-striped suit, his hair brushed back from his face, a slight glint of stubble on his jaw.
My heartbeat is not quickening. My blood is cooling, not growing hotter.
"This is your first day working for me," he said.
"You mean for ARS Industries."
"No. I mean me." He arched a brow, daring her to contradict him a second time. "Are you nervous?"
"Hardly."
"You should be. Your boss will yell at you if you're late."
"You're my boss and my ride."
"Exactly. I'm always late."
There would be no understanding him today. Noted.
"Before we head off, I should probably go over the ground rules." He didn't give her a chance to respond. "At the office, I'll call you Miss Faaruqui. You will call me Mr. Khan." A gleam of mirth brightened his expression, somehow doing the impossible and making him more beautiful. "Or you may call me sir. Yes, definitely go with sir."
"No way. We are not part of an erotica novel," she said.
"Erotica, hmm?" His grin was wide, devastating.
"Tell sir all about the naughty things you've read."
She laughed, trying not to be utterly enchanted by him. "Well, just last night I read about the mating habits of penquins. Did you know they have""
"Way to ruin the sparks we had going."
"We had sparks?" she asked, just to be contrary.
"Get dressed," he said. "Or not. Yeah, probably not. We've got a big day, and I could use a little eye candy as inspiration."
For a moment, she wanted to bask in the glow of his praise. He considered her eye candy? Then she remembered he hadn't seen her scars. "I'll ignore your early start at sexual harassment and get dressed just as soon as you exit my bedroom."
"Why? You don't have anything I haven't seen before."
"Actually, I do," she said, throwing a pillow at him. It thudded against the wide expanse of his chest and fell harmlessly to the floor. He laughed, the sound as beautiful as the rest of him. "For all you know, my anything is better than any other you've seen." It wasn't. It sooo wasn't. She was so damaged even a man of his non discriminating taste would be sickened.
"You think so?" His gaze dropped to her chest. "Show me." Huskily. But was it a demand"or a plea?
Desire mingled with panic, and she gulped. "Not even if you begged me."
"I've never begged before." His voice went low, husky. "But there's a first time for everything, isn't there?"
The air between them began to thicken, becoming heavier, making it harder for her to breathe, a sensation she was getting used to. She ached. She craved what only he seemed capable of giving her.
She'd made a tactical error, she realized. She'd challenged a playboy. "Just...get out," she managed. "Please."
His gaze roved over her slowly, heating, hotter and hotter. "Are you sure that's what you want?"
No. "Please," she repeated.
"Very well. I'll allow you to retreat. This time." He stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
"* * *
Asad grabbed a beer from Zoya's fridge. He hadn't slept, so, technically this morning was merely an extension of last night. He took a long, deep gulp while glaring at the cubbies and shelves. He saw his favorite beer. His favorite sandwich meat. His favorite cheeses. He hadn't known what she liked, and he'd refused to leave the thing empty, even for a day. Now a sense of possession rose. My food, her fridge. Our stuff. Together.
He banged his fist into the door. He didn't need this.
He remembered Zoya's reaction to seeing the items. She hadn't cared about name brands or that he'd made sure each of the four food groups properly represented. She had rejoiced over the simple fact that she would be eating. Period. And it had broken his freaking heart.
He took another gulp of the beer. The situation with Zoya grew more complicated by the second, and something had to give. Soon. He'd been building to this point for a while, a man who hated change on the brink of one he couldn't stop"didn't want to stop. He was a pressure cooker set to explode any day...minute...second...
That happened, and he would be on her. But what accompanied an explosion of any kind? Destruction. Old habits would die hard.
There were so many things he wanted to do to and with her. One night would never be enough.
Despite what most people thought, his one-night stands weren't just about sex. Or even his own brand of therapy. For a little while, he wasn't a piece of trash easily left behind; he was a man worth begging for. A man without a past, without faults or failures. And when he left, he was a fantasy worth remembering.
What would he be to Zoya? Heartbreak?
He drained the rest of the beer and tossed the glass bottle in the recycling bin with more force than he'd intended. Normally he could take or leave a woman. If one didn't want him, fine. Another soon came along. But he couldn't leave Zoya, despite the complications. Despite the torment of this. He wanted her too desperately. Wanted her even though she'd given him no real encouragement.
But damn she was giving Rehaan plenty.
When she'd flirted with his friend, every muscle in Asad's body had tensed. His blood had morphed into fuel, a lit match dropped inside his veins. Hello, wildfire. He'd nearly started a fight. Over nothing.
Rehaan's interrogation this morning hadn't helped. "Why was your girl trying to interview me?" his friend had asked. "And for what position?"
Samar had been there, too. He'd grinned. "Did she ask you to name your biggest weakness as one of her interview question?"
"You mean my inability not to be awesome?" Asad had quipped. "No. Because she didn't ask me anything. She asked Rehaan. I have no idea why." Was she attracted to the guy?
Well, too bad. Asad had found her first. She belonged to him.
Damn it. He could have her, but he would not claim her.
Zoya exited the bedroom looking fresh, adorable and young in a plain white T-shirt and jean skirt. Last night he'd burned her tent and collected her meager possessions from the campsite, feeling like an ass for throwing out everything that had been in the house when he and the others first moved in. Everything but the photos. The items had been hers, all she'd had left from her childhood, and he'd thoughtlessly had them destroyed at the city dump.
"What do you think?" she asked.
"You are..." Stunning, worth anything, worth everything.
"You look fine." Worth anything? Everything? Hell, no.
"Not exactly office-appropriate, I know," she said, smoothing the sides of the denim. "But it's the best I've got."
Her unease gutted him. This amazing woman should only ever be confident and assured. And damn it, he needed to find a way to detach from her. Fast.
"Like I said, you look fine."
She frowned at him. "For an incurable flirt who always has a kind word for the women in his life, you kind of suck right now."
She was right. Flirt was his default, compliments his currency. He should be doling out praise rather than insulting her while staring at her with hopeless longing, but he simply couldn't quite manage it. If she smiled at him, if she laughed, her face would light up. Bye-bye, what little remained of his control.
"Come on. Let's go." He preferred to be inside the office well before eight, when the rest of the town came alive and accosting him on the sidewalk became a sport.
The ten-minute drive passed in silence, and he was glad. He used the time to calm the hell down.
Mary, the receptionist, sat at her desk in the lobby and smiled when she spotted him. "Good morning, Mr. Khan."
"Morning, Mary. This is""
The older woman hissed. "I know who she is. She's the bully who caused many of my students to cry."
Mary was a former schoolteacher, with the index finger from hell. Whenever she pointed it in your direction, you felt the flames rise up and lick at your feet. "Now, Mary," he said.
"I'm sorry," Zoya interjected, stepping forward on her own. "I regret my childhood actions every day, and I hope you'll give me a chance to prove I'm a different person now."
Asad liked that she made no excuses. She admitted to her wrongdoing and accepted full responsibility.
Mary wasn't so easily convinced. "Time will tell, Miss Faaruqui. Time will tell."
"I agree."
He draped his arm around Zoya's waist in a show of support, but immediately regretted the decision. She fit him perfectly. Too perfectly. "If you need us, we'll be in my office." Asad led her through the building, saying, "What do you think of the office?"
"The walls are beige," Zoya said, and he barked out a laugh.
He should have known she'd focus on the lack of color.
Once he had her settled on the couch in his office, and himself behind the desk, he said, "Why were you a bully as a kid?"
Up went her chin, a stubborn action he recognized and was coming to hate. But she also rubbed her fingers over her stomach, as if tracing a familiar pattern. "Maybe I was born rotten to the core."
On to her tricks now, he shook his head. "I had Samar ask around. Also, I've seen pictures of you when you were little." No reason to lie, every reason not to. There was a shaky trust building between them, and a single untruth would cause it to crumble. "Once upon a time, you were a sweetheart with sad eyes."
"Pictures?" She blinked as realization struck. "You found my box. In my"your"closet."
"Yes."
"But...why didn't you throw them away, like everything else?"
He shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. "Maybe I hoped I'd find a nude picture of adult Zoya."
The prettiest pink brightened her cheeks. "Yes, well, I'm sure the people in town gave Samar an earful about all the times I wasn't such a sweetheart."
"They did, but I don't care about what you once did, only why. I have an interesting childhood myself."
In a small voice, she said, "Really?"
Hoping she would soften if she knew a little about him, he admitted, "I ran away from several foster homes. I was involved in multiple fights and a few other unsavory exploits. I left a trail of broken hearts in my wake."
She opened her mouth, closed it. Opened, closed. "You were in foster care?"
"Yes. Now, what happened to you?"
Plucking at the hem of her skirt, she said, "Nothing original, really. My father called me names, and I called other people names."
The thought of little Zoya subjected to verbal and mental abuse enraged him. "Your father is gone now?"
"Yes."
Too bad. Asad would have enjoyed dishing his own brand of abuse at him. "Why did you stop being a bully?"
She looked away, licked her lips. "What do you want me to do first, boss?"
Damn it, he'd pushed too soon for too much. What would it take to get her to open up? And why did he even care?
"Just sit there and look pretty while I get some work done," he grumbled, focusing on his computer screen and the thousand emails waiting to be answered. "I haven't seen the set or character descriptions on the latest game contract."
He was able to block Zoya out...until she shifted on the couch. Her jean skirt rode higher up her thighs. Such lovely thighs. He was going to love trailing his tongue up, up from her knees...
"Asad," she said, breathless. "Whatever you're thinking about..."
He was staring at her, he realized, gripping the edge of his desk, seething with the need to pull the blinds over the glass walls and dive on her.
"You'd like it. Ask nicely, and I'll show you."
The building's front door opened, sunlight pouring inside along with Sumit and Maya Of S&S Financial. Right. His eight-o'clock meeting. A welcome distraction.
"Never mind." The company had only recently signed up as a client, and now Asad had to explain the operating systems more thoroughly.
"Mr. Khan." Mary's voice spilled from the speakerphone. "Mr. Gupta and Miss Pathak are here to see you."
He picked up the phone. "Send them in."
As the pair made their way to his office, Zoya asked, "Should I step outside?"
No longer have her within reach? "You need to familiarize yourself with the inner workings of the business. Stay and take mental notes."
"Yes, sir." Her ocean-water gaze lingered on Sumit as he entered, and Asad tensed, a curse brewing at the back of his throat...until she turned her attention to Maya, giving the young woman a once-over, dejection longing overtaking her expression. She looked herself over, too, and plucked at a bit of lint on her T-shirt.
Asad's heart melted at the self-conscious gesture. She outshone the other woman by miles, but she had no idea.
Sumit cleared his throat.
The meeting. Right. Asad stood, walked around the desk, and shook hands with both. "Good to see you again."
Maya smiled sweetly. But then, everything about her was sweet. She'd reminded him of sugar since the moment they'd met, kind to everyone she encountered. He'd thought about asking her out, but was now glad hadn't. He was coming to realize he preferred his women with a little spice.
Zoya stood. Maya nodded a welcome at her, and Sumit arched a brow in question.
"Our newest hire," Asad explained. "She'll be listening in, learning the ropes. Don't hesitate to stop and ask her to repeat everything we've said."
Zoya paled, and Asad had to swallow a laugh.
"Nice to meet you both," she croaked.
Everyone took their seats, and for over an hour Asad explained the ins and outs of Rehaan's newest program. He wondered what Zoya thought of everything, watching her more than he watched his associates, but her expression gave nothing away.
"Please, don't take this the wrong way," Maya said, smoothing a strand of hair in place, "but I'm a little lost. There's so much information to take in."
"I know, which is why it would be best if one of you spent the week in Ratibad Valley." Most companies like his would send an employee to train those at S&S Financial, but that wasn't the way Asad worked. The change in his routine on top of the change in his location would finally push him over the edge. "I can train you more thoroughly."
Maya nodded. "Thank you. I would be happy to stay."
"Wonderful." He looked again at Zoya. Her nails dug into the arms of the couch, her knuckles bleaching of color as she glared daggers at Maya.
She was angry?
Impossible. The emotion made zero sense. He would be training Maya, nothing more. But to train her, he would have to spend time with her. Was Zoya jealous?
Asad's head spun. He'd never been with a woman long enough for her to feel threatened by another potential conquest, or for her to view him as a prize worth coveting long-term. The thought of Zoya determined to win him...it intoxicated him, playing havoc with an already primed body.
This couldn't be the right reaction. This kind of intensity couldn't be normal. He swiped up a pen and drummed it against his thigh. Or, hell, maybe it was normal. Samar certainly couldn't function without Priya. To be fair, however, Samar was in love.
Love. Alarm bells suddenly clanged. Asad wanted Zoya, but he'd be damned if he allowed himself to fall for her. To need her or anyone. Need was nothing but a barbed cage. It trapped you, cutting you into bleeding shreds anytime you tried to escape it.
I've got to get out of here. He pushed to his feet, his chair skidding behind him. "I'll drop you to your hotel," he said to Maya. "Miss Faaruqui will stay here and type up notes detailing everything we've discussed."
"I will?" Zoya cleared her throat, nodded. "I mean, I will. Yes."
He offered a hand to Maya. "Shall we?"
"Yes. Thank you." She cupped her fingers around his and stood.
He led her and Sumit out of the office and felt a prickle at the back of his neck. He turned to glance back at Zoya; he just couldn't stop himself.
Their gazes met, the moment utterly electric. A shock to his system, one he experienced bone-deep. Holding on to Maya suddenly felt wrong. Racing to Zoya's side seemed like a good idea. But he didn't release Maya's hand, and he didn't return to Zoya.
Leaving was for the best. If he didn't protect himself from a potential loss, who would?"
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone 😊
Kundali Bhagya
Debate Mansion
45