Chapter Thirteen
Asad stood in a back corner of the hotel ballroom, surrounded by the very definition of luxury. Multiple chandeliers, each boasting thousands of heart-shaped crystals, were framed by an elaborate tin ceiling. The walls were draped with plum-colored velvet and twinkling lights, the floor a spectacular though dizzying pattern of ebony and ivory. There were twenty-five tables placed throughout, bouquets of roses and candles for centerpieces. Classic elegance, Priya had called it.
The kids on his soccer team gazed around with wide eyes, muttering "ooh" and "ahh."
Tonight they were celebrating a winning season, and despite ranging in age from eight to twelve, each of the team members was dressed in formal attire. Something he, Rehaan and Samar had arranged and Priya had overseen.
Asad wore a tux tailored to fit him exclusively, and yet the tie felt like a noose around his neck. He wanted Zoya here, with him, but he was glad she wasn't anywhere nearby. A terrible tug-of-war had erupted inside him, each side pulling him in a different direction.
He couldn't have her without committing to her. He had to have her, but he couldn't commit to her. It was the surest way to lose her forever. Already she suspected he wasn't good enough or stable enough for her. And when she realized she was right, that he wasn't, nothing he did or said would convince her to stay with him.
If he even wanted her to stay with him.
Damn it! If he made it through the banquet without punching a wall, he'd consider it a win. He shouldn't be thinking about her. Shouldn't care that she'd ended things before they'd even begun. He could move on, finally go back to the way things were. But he didn't want to go back. Somehow she'd become his new normal.
Samar stepped to his side, handing him a glass of champagne. "You look like you could use it."
"This, and about a thousand glasses more."
"Still upset about Mahek?"
Mahek. Apparently had been coming to the house ever since their date, plaguing Samar with questions. Has Asad been seeing other women? Has Asad ever been in love? How does Asad feel about kids?
Yes. No. And girl, please. Kids were not in his future and never would be.
"No. I'm over it." He'd sat down with Mahek and had a gentle heart-to-heart, telling her they weren't a couple and they weren't ever going to be a couple. As he'd spoken, she'd tried to crawl into his lap and stuff her hand under his shirt.
He'd had to get stern, telling her they weren't sleeping again, either, and he'd been clear about that from the beginning.
After that she'd left in a foul mood.
"Then why is your mood off?" Samar asked.
Asad would never dump his problems in Samar's lap. "I'm fine."
Samar frowned at him.
"I'll be fine," he corrected.
Priya arrived and cuddled into Samar's side, smiling at Asad with sugary sweetness. "Did I tell you I saw Zoya today? Whatever you're doing, keep it up. She looks miserable."
The words were a knife to the gut. "When did you become so vicious? When did he?"
He'd been an ass to Zoya today. And why? Because she hadn't given him what he wanted?
Well, he hadn't given her what she wanted, either, yet she'd remained civil. "I don't want Zoya miserable."
Priya studied him more intently than he liked. "So...you'd like to see her happy, settled?"
"Yes." She deserved to be happy and settled, to have her dreams of having a husband and family come true. Something Asad couldn't offer.
Can't...or won't?
His hand fisted.
"Good. I was testing you, and you just passed." Priya beamed up at him. "I have the best idea. You and I are going to work together to find her the perfect man. We'll start with your friends, of course, guys you trust who can give her what she needs."
A growl rose from deep inside Asad's chest, lingering in his throat before trying to push free of his mouth. Find Zoya another man? Not in this lifetime.
Priya nibbled on her bottom lip. "Are you upset? You look upset. You did say you wanted her happy, right? I didn't misunderstand, did I?"
"You didn't." Each word felt as if it'd been yanked through a meat grinder.
"Good. She wants a nice, stable guy. Who doesn't? She's certain stability will make her happiest, and I agree. So think about those friends of yours, like I said, and figure out who will be a good match for her. We'll discuss your choices tomorrow." With that, Priya pulled Samar onto the dance floor.
Asad rubbed at his chest to ward off the sudden ache. A waiter passed with a tray of champagne glasses. He drained the one he had and replaced it with a new one, draining it, too.
From across the room, Rehaan spotted him and soon worked his way over, offering Asad another glass.
Asad grabbed it so fast the liquid swished over the rim. "Thanks," he muttered, and the champagne went down the hatch in a single gulp.
"Repay me for bringing you a drink by getting out there and doing your thing." Rehaan said.
"What's my thing?" he asked, desperate to forget Priya's "best" idea.
"What do you think? Dancing with the single mothers."
In other words, flirting. For once, he wasn't in the mood. "I'd need the entire bottle of alcohol for that."
"Why? You're usually the belle of the ball."
"Not tonight."
"Because you're intimidated by me in my tux? Good to know. But one of the single moms brought her sister, and I've decided I want to take her out tonight.. I need you to step up to the plate and take one for the team, intimidated or not."
"Which one?" Asad asked. He wasn't going to watch passively. Not this time.
Rehaan pointed to a pretty woman with a short black hair and hazel eyes. "Her."
"Sorry, my man, but I saw her earlier. Now I'll claim her first."
Rehaan looked at him. "What about Zoya?"
The ache in his chest deepened. "What about her? We're friends, that's all."
"Friends with benefits?"
"Just friends." Even if I miss her the way I'd miss a heartbeat. "The woman""
"Don't worry about it. She's yours." Rehaan patted his shoulder. "I won't stand in your way."
He'd known that would be Rehaan's reaction. Just as he'd known if Rehaan asked him, he would have backed off the woman without a fight.
Asad grabbed two more glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and drained them. After that, the evening passed in a bit of a blur. He ate when dinner was served, gave a speech praising every member of the team. He flirted and danced with Mahira...Mahi? Whoever. Rehaan's woman. She was an ER nurse, never been married.
"If you're still looking," he said, "does that mean you haven't found it with me?"
Her smile was wide, playful. "Not yet."
"But because you're such a sweet woman, you're willing to let me keep trying?"
"I'm a giver like that."
"Then I better bring my A game."
She chuckled. "You mean you actually have a B game?"
"And a C game. But I only play that way when I'm really desperate."
"You mean you aren't desperate for me?" She pretended to pout.
"Honey, I bypassed desperate and went straight into drooling when you walked through the door." The words came easily to him, as usual, but fell from his tongue hollowly. He used to enjoy this kind of bantering, the tease before the big show. Now he wasn't sure when he'd ever been more miserable.
Mahira/Mahi ran her fingers through his hair, and he almost pulled away. He remembered how Zoya had done the same last night. How his scalp had tingled and his blood had heated. How she'd looked when she'd done it. As if she were drunk on pleasure...on him. As if he were something special, not just a random guy she might enjoy.
"Tell me about yourself," Mahira/Mahi said.
"And bore you to death? No way. I'd rather hear about you."
As Mahira/Mahi started blabbering, his mind drifted in a direction he didn't want it to go. Priya expected him to find a guy for Zoya. A lover. A potential husband. Could he actually do it? Should he?
Committed women were invisible to him.
Maybe...maybe the answer to all his problems was doing exactly what Priya requested. If Zoya got serious with another man"Asad swallowed a curse"his craving to be with her might finally go away.
"Asad?" Mahira/Mahi said, nuzzling his cheek. "You still with me?"
He stepped back, widening the distance between them, and kissed her knuckles. "Do you really think there's anywhere else I'd rather be?"
"Well, I certainly hope not."
More and more families left the party until only Rehaan, Samar and a sleepy Priya remained.
"I'm driving your car, Asad," Rehaan said. "How do you want the rest of this night to go down?"
He looked at Samar, who was holding Priya so close, so tight. Priya leaned against her man, knowing he would protect her with his life. He looked at Rehaan, who was willing to drive him and Mahira/Mahi to her place, then wait in the car so he would have a ride when he finished. Even willing to drive him and Mahira/Mahi to their place"where Zoya would get to see him with another woman. He looked at Mahira/Mahi, who was smiling up at him, as tipsy as he was, probably willing to do anything he asked.
Rehaan nudged his arm. "So what's it gonna be?"
* * *
Zoya had spent an entire evening on her cell phone, using up data to research problems abandoned kids could have later in life, until she thought she'd figured out Asad. Severe detachment disorder. Having lost everything he loved time and time again, he'd learned to stay distanced from everything and everyone.
Her heart had ached for him as she'd fallen into bed to sleep like the dead, only to be awoken by"
Bang, bang, bang. "Open up, Zoya."
That.
Eyes burning, she donned her robe and stumbled to the door of the RV. From a nightmare of Asad walking his way through a parade of women to Asad standing at her door in the flesh"in the middle of the night.
Bang, bang. "You have two seconds to show yourself, then I'm kicking my way in."
"I'm coming, I'm coming. Hold your horses." She opened the door"and gasped. A small patch of light glowed from the porch lamp and washed over Asad. He was in a tux. A gorgeous, wealthy man almost too fine to touch, like something out of a magazine. His dark hair stuck out in spikes, and his eyes simmered with fire and determination.
"Fool woman." His lips were compressed into a thin line, his words slurred. "I could be a stranger here to murder you."
"Are you drunk?"
"Only a 3.65 on the Richter scale...or maybe a 6.53... What does that matter?" He barreled his way inside, gently pushing her back. He closed the door with a kick of his leg. "You gotta protect yourself better, popsicle."
New nicknames. A thrill to hear when she shouldn't have cared. "What are you doing here? It's, like, two in the morning."
He nodded as if she'd just made his point for him. "It's two in the morning, and you work for me. I told you there would be times I'd want you to draw in the middle of the night."
"So you want me to draw?" she asked, stepping back to give herself breathing room. His nearness bothered her, made her ache for what she'd had before"what she could never have again.
"No, I don't want you to draw. Don't be ridiculous. I want to talk, to tell you what Priya and I decided." His gaze raked over her, everything about him suddenly relaxing. He leaned back, bracing himself against the wall, and smiled over at her, slow and wicked. The devastating smile she could not resist. "I want to take those nightclothes to dinner and then I want to take them off you."
She shivered. "They...uh, they aren't hungry."
"Doesn't matter. You should have worn something else." He stepped toward her. "You're making me forget why I'm here."
Careful. He would make her forget her reservations. "You and Priya decided...what?"
He stopped, a flash of rage in his eyes, quickly gone. "Let's not talk about that right now." He started up again, prowling toward her, backing her against the kitchen counter. Heat radiated off him, and a whimper escaped her. "I missed you tonight. I wanted you with me, hated that you weren't."
Could he hear the swift pound of her heart?
"Where were you?"
"A banquet for the soccer team Rehaan and I coach. Shhh, don't tell." He placed a finger over her lips, and she shivered, relief and desire pouring through her. "Women go crazy when they find out."
No kidding. She just happened to be one of them. "I already knew you coached underprivileged kids. I've been handling bits and pieces of your business, remember?" Like taking calls from moms who suddenly couldn't recall when the next practice happened to be, even though it fell on the same day every week. "Did the kids have a good time?"
"The best. And I sent Mahira/Mahi away. I didn't want her."
"Mahira/Mahi?"
He nodded. "She would have slept with me and wouldn't have asked for more."
Jealousy delivered a strong kick to her insides, but it was followed by the sweet caress of surprise. He'd put an end to a potentially easy bedmate"while drunk"to come be with Zoya, who was as far from easy as could be?
"Go on," she urged, melting against him.
"I'd rather be with you while I can." He nuzzled his nose against her jawline and played with the lapels of her robe. The silk brushed against her flushed skin, tickling her. "I'm sorry I was so rude to you. You've got me tied in so many knots I'm not myself anymore." He nipped at her ear. "And damn me, but I'm starting to think that's a good thing."
Her already weak knees threatened to buckle. She would have fallen, but he caught her and set her on the counter.
He pushed her legs apart and stood firmly between them, as if he had every right to be there. "You are so beautiful." His gaze remained on his fingers as they continued to trail up and down those lapels. With every upward glide, he parted the material even more.
"I'm not. Beautiful, I mean. I'm really not." She didn't want him to see how not-beautiful she really was, but she couldn't bring herself to stop him from exposing a bit more of her skin. Not yet.
"You are more mysterious than anything I've known, you know that?" he said. "Maybe that's how you've managed to keep me hooked. I want to solve the puzzle you've created."
"You like puzzles?"
"I never have before."
"But you want to solve me?"
He didn't seem to hear her, his gaze on her shoulders and the robe about to fall.
Stomach twisting, she covered herself at last.
"Why don't we watch TV, hmm?" She motioned to the only television set"in the bedroom.
"I'd rather watch you." As he clasped her ankle and lifted her bare foot, she gasped, only to moan when he began to massage spots she hadn't known were tender. "Tell me the last time you went on a date."
"In high school." Once she'd healed from her injuries and realized no one in town would ever forgive her, she'd spent all her time at the house, transcribing medical documents for her Ammi, whose eyesight had deteriorated over the years. Unfortunately, Zoya hadn't been able to keep the job after her Ammi died, unable to admit she'd done any past work without putting all of her Ammi's contributions in question.
"As I suspected," Asad said, "which means the bar is set pretty low."
"Definitely. High school boys are pigs."
"He pressed deeper into her arch, dragging another moan out of her. "What's your longest relationship?"
"Only a few weeks." She eyed him warily. "I used to move from boy to boy, depending on who wasn't paying any attention to me. If the one I wanted had a girlfriend, well, he soon didn't."
"There were boys who didn't pay attention to you?"
"Only the smart ones," she said, surprised by his takeaway from her speech.
"But you changed. What changed you?" he asked softly, pushing for answers, always pushing.
Argh! Her body temperature dropped from white-hot to bone-cold, and she pulled away from him. He let her, taking hold of her other foot. "I should have known you'd circle back to the Incident yet again."
"The incident. Meaning a single circumstance. Tell me," he said.
"No. I don't want to talk about it."
"Have you ever talked about it? Or have you let it fester?"
She pressed her lips together, refusing to reply to even that. If she gave the slightest bit, he would take more and more until she had nothing left.
"What if I tell you a secret about me?" he asked. "Something I've never told anyone else."
In a snap, desperation hit her. She would do anything to learn more about him"even an exchange. "Yes. Okay. Tell me a secret, and I will tell you about the Incident. But only the bare minimum facts."
He snorted and shook his head. "As if I'll give my secret away so cheaply. You'll tell me every detail."
"Five details for five of your secrets."
"Ten details, two secrets."
"Four details, four secrets," she countered.
"Twelve details, no secrets," he insisted.
Her eyes narrowed. "Tell me all your secrets and I'll tell you one of mine."
"You'll tell me everything about it?"
"Everything," she agreed with a sigh.
His smile stretched wide. "You've got yourself a deal, baby."
"You go first," she muttered. "All your secrets."
"And let you back out later?"
She gave him the look most of her teachers had given her over the years. Authoritative yet pitying. "Start telling! And don't you tell me lame secrets about your sex life?"
"Well, well. Miss Faaruqui certainly has my number. In more ways than one." For one drawn-out moment, all he did was stare at her lips.
"First secret. As a teenager, I was arrested twice."
"How naughty of you." An outlaw who lived by no rules but his own. She should have guessed.
And oh, wow, my romance-novel roots are showing.
Gaze intense, studying her every nuance, he slipped his fingers up her calves, played a game of tickle and retreat at her knees. "Once for theft, and once for beating the crap out of a guy. I needed money to buy food, so I fought men twice my size and age."
"That's good info to have," she said, "but hardly your best-kept secrets. I'm sure Samar and Rehaan know."
"You're right. They do." He rubbed his jaw, and she heard the light scrape of stubble. "You don't want to know about my sexual conquests, and you don't want to know about my record. What do you want to know?"
Hands itching for contact, any contact, she plucked at the collar of his shirt. "Tell me about one of the worst foster homes you lived in."
He stiffened, and several moments ticked by in silence. This was it"the moment of truth. If he deflected, she'd know he wasn't ready for this. If he didn't, well, he would surprise her.
He surprised her.
"There are several to choose from," he said.
"There was one... The dad had a problem with his temper and knew how to hide bruises. He hit me, whipped me with branches and paddles. Sometimes just looking him in the eye set him off."
Tears formed in Zoya's eyes. "Oh, Asad." She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight, offering all the comfort she could. "I'm so sorry." At first, he remained stiff. Second by second, he relaxed until he was hugging her back, holding on so tight she'd wear the bruises tomorrow, but she didn't care, loved being his lifeline.
"There was another foster home," he whispered. "A worse one. The mother would sneak into my room at night..."
The sickness intensified, a blistering burn. "How old were you?"
"Fourteen."
Too young. Far too young. Rage came out swinging. "I'll kill the bitch!"
"I was big for my age."
"Like that matters. What she did was wrong in every way, and she knew it. I won't just kill her. I'll torture her in ways you can't even imagine."
He kissed her collarbone once, lingered, then kissed again before pulling back to cup her face, "You want to know another secret? You are one of the best things to ever happen to me, Zoya." His thumbs stroked her jaw, heating her skin, the fire he so easily stroked stirring and blazing with new life.
The need to comfort him, to make up for the traumas of his past, smoldered beneath it, vibrant and undeniable, an obsession, an addiction without end.
This amazing guy wasn't a he-s**t, she realized. He was a man trying to survive the hand he'd been dealt. How dare she judge him? How dare she make him feel bad for his choices?
She'd handled things poorly with him before, but she wouldn't this time. Denying him"denying them both"had been the wrong way to go. She wanted him more than she'd ever wanted another, so why not have him?
Afterward, if the worst happened and he cut her off from his life, well, the worst happened. At least she had tried for happily-ever-after. She would deal.
"Asad," she whispered, and rubbed her nose along his jawline. "You are one of the best things to ever happen to me, too, and I want to be with you."
He went still, even seemed to stop breathing.
"I'm not the best, I'm the worst. You don't."
"You are the best. And I do. I really do. Let me prove it." Fighting past her shyness, she placed her palm between his legs and stroked up...down, and oh, wow, he was big and hard and perfect. So amazingly perfect.
He sucked in a breath. "Zoya."
Her name on his lips never failed to enchant her. "Please, Asad."
A groan sound sprang from him. He held her hand and frowned.
"What's wrong?"
"Someone else." He stumbled back, out of reach.
"Someone else?" Her brow furrowed with confusion. "I don't understand."
"I'm not what you need. You said so."
Her blood cooled, the words she'd once uttered in haste now coming back to bite her. "You are."
"No. I decided I'm going to do whatever is necessary to make sure you're happy." He stumbled to the fridge to grab a beer.
"Uh, are you sure you need that?"
"Never been surer." He popped the top and drained the contents. And he did seem steadier as he placed the bottle on the counter, removed his jacket. He tugged off his tie as well, and unfastened the first three buttons on his shirt, as if the material choked him.
"Is the heat on?" he asked. "Why is the heat on in the middle of summer?"
"It's not on."
Three more buttons.
"Are you feverish?" His lips had burned so sweetly. She flattened her hand over his forehead, his skin as hot as his lips.
He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing, but all too soon that golden gaze was back on her and narrowing. "I'm tired," he said, and he sure sounded it. "I should go to bed."
Though her body shouted in protest, her mind sighed in relief. They desperately needed to discuss what had just happened"about what she wanted to happen still"but it would be better if he were sober.
"All right. I'll walk you home."
"He shook his head. "Don't want to leave. Not yet. You suggested we watch TV, remember?"
He linked their fingers and led her into the bedroom. A short journey, and yet an eternity seemed to pass. He settled atop the mattress.
He's in my bed. Trembling, she drew the comforter over him. "Forget the TV and get some rest."
"Stay with me." He caught her hand, tugging her beside him.
He's in my bed"with me. Her mind had trouble processing the extraordinary event. Women all over the world experienced the wondrous phenomenon of being held like this, but Zoya never had. It was a first, and it took only a second to realize she did not want it to be an only. The heat of him cocooned her, buffering her from the world that had once been so cold to her. His intoxicating champagne scent fused with her natural fragrance"became their scent.
"Tell me your secret." His warm breath fanned over her forehead. "I have to know more about you. It's a compulsion. A necessity."
"Not now." She would ruin the moment.
"Please, shortcake."
"I... I'll tell you in the morning." When the alcohol was out of his system. "All right?"
"You promise?"
She drew in a deep breath, held it. Exhaled slowly. "I promise."
He kissed her temple. "Sleep, then."
She didn't want to fall asleep. She wanted to stay awake and enjoy the feel of being held, almost cherished. But his arms tightened around her, intractable steel bands, as if, in this vulnerable moment, he feared losing her, and it didn't take her long to drift away with a smile.
Whether he'd admitted it to himself or not, she mattered to him.
CID
45