Chapter Sixteen
Asad peered up at the ceiling of his bedroom, morning light seeping through the crack in the window curtains. He'd spent the night tossing and turning, missing the feel of Zoya in his arms.
After they'd cleaned the RV, he'd returned to the house to shower and change. The need to go back, to make things right with her, had been strong, but he'd somehow resisted. The girl was turning him inside out"which was the very reason he had to continue on this current path.
Except, tired and grumpy, he thought, What the hell? He brushed his teeth, changed and made his way to the RV. Since she had no problem using her key to invade his house, he had no problem using his key to invade hers. He quietly made his way inside and found her in the bed. She lay curled on her side, her face toward his, a beam of light spotlighting her, turning her into the real Sleeping Beauty. He reached for her, caught himself just before contact and swallowed a curse.
He gathered everything he needed to cook his famous morning-after breakfast, and as the bacon began to sizzle, she sat up like a zombie rising from the grave. At his laugh, her eyes snapped open.
Utterly adorable"and damn it, he had to look away. His body was strung tighter than a bow. Any more pressure and he would snap.
"Asad?"
"The one and only."
"What are you doing here?"
"Cooking. I hope you're hungry, princess."
"For bacon? Always. But I'd rather have you," she grumbled.
He had to grip the counter to remain in place.
"Your date is tonight, remember?"
"What!" she gasped out. "How could I remember when you never told me? So soon?"
"Why not?" The longer he put it off, the crazier it would make him.
"Just... Screw you." The patter of footsteps. The slam of the bathroom door.
"Not a morning person," he called. "Got it."
She emerged as he finished loading two plates with eggs, bacon of course, hash browns, pancakes and more bacon. They sat across from each other at the small table, and he pushed her plate in front of her.
"Well, well," she said. "I didn't sleep with you, but I get the blow-off breakfast anyway. Is it my birthday?"
"Technically, you have slept with me. Though I'm not sure why I keep coming back. I had to spend that night listening to you snore""
"I do not snore!"
"Honey, you sound like a freight train."
"You are such a liar." She threw a fork at him.
"Tell me you're a liar!"
"And actually become a liar? No. You're welcome, by the way. For my exalted presence and the breakfast. When is your birthday, anyway?"
"December third."
"That's coming in fast."
She shrugged before admitting softly, "It'll be my first birthday without my Ammi."
Hello, ache. I missed you. "Well, it'll be your first birthday with me, you lucky girl, and I hereby vow to make it the best one of your life."
Looking more vulnerable by the second, she said, "Just how are you going to do that?"
He grinned slowly. "Are you thinking naughty thoughts, Miss Faaruqui ? Wanting me to give you something personal?"
"Oh, shut up and let me eat," she said, grabbing another fork.
"Uh, uh, uh." He snatched the plate away from her. "Not until you tell me what you want for your birthday."
"Gimme that food before you get stabbed."
"Tell me."
"A wedding ring. How about that?"
Brat. "I'd be willing to give you a practice wedding night." He set the food in front of her, saying in high singing tone, "Thank you, Asad. You look so handsome this morning, Asad.'"
Zoya dug into her food, ignoring him.
"Why, Asad Ahmad Khan,'" he continued in his impression of her, "you always have the best ideas.'"
Zoya glanced up rolling her eyes?"
He smirked at her. Was there any woman more adorable?
Armaan would go crazy for her.
Good humor suddenly gone, Asad attacked his food with a vengeance. When he finished, he felt sick, but he stood, carried his plate to the sink.
Without looking at her, he said, "Your date will be here at seven. Be ready."
"Don't worry, I will. And I'll wear something sexy. One of the racier dresses you gave me."
He barely contained his scowl. "One of the immodest ones you refuse to wear for me?"
"Definitely."
"Great." Either she was more confident now, or she simply hoped to torture Asad. "I'll wear a suit."
"As my bodyguard, it'd be more appropriate for you to wear camo jacket like the one they wear in army."
"Girl, it won't matter what I'm wearing. If I decide to take out your date, he'll never see me coming."
* * *
After Asad took off, Zoya called for support. To her surprise and delight, Priya and Khushi showed up at five to help her get ready for her three-person date-slash-torture session.
"By the time we're done with you," Khushi said, "Asad is going to faint."
"Let's hope." Like a harem girl within the pages of a romance novel, Zoya was buffed, waxed and oiled, her hair curled and coiffed. Despite her earlier bravado, she pulled a cashmere sweater over the revealing sheath dress she selected, hiding her scars.
When the girls finished with her, she twirled in front of the full-length mirror she'd had installed in the bedroom, pleased with how she'd turned out. The icy color of the dress brought out the blue in her eyes, and even her hair. Three healthy meals a day had added a natural rosy tint to her skin and blessed her with the feminine curves she'd always envied in others.
Priya glanced down at her vibrating phone and sighed. "That's Samar again. He says I'm needed at home. I swear, ever since he learned Armaan Malik is coming to town, he's been freaking out."
"I should probably stay here," Khushi said. "You know, as Zoya's moral compass."
"You are not inviting yourself on tonight's date"or into Armaan's pants," Priya told.
"What about you and Vineet?" Zoya asked.
Khushi looked to the floor, hiding her eyes. "We're still dating, but not exclusive. He just got home from a yearlong military tour and isn't ready to commit."
Ugh. He might not be ready, but Khushi surely was. Been there, living that. Zoya reached over and squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry."
"It is what it is. The story of my life."
"You two are depressing." Priya tugged her sister to the door. "Come on, let's go before you make Zoya cry a river."
They were gone a few seconds later, and Zoya wiped her suddenly sweaty palms on her thighs. This was her first date as an adult woman. Why had she insisted Asad come along? Now she had to rebuff this Armaan guy without looking as if she were rebuffing him, while encouraging Asad without looking as if she were encouraging him.
Easy.
A hard rap exploded at the door, making her gasp. It was six forty-five, and Asad had never been early for anything. She figured the girls had forgotten something and had come back to get it, her smile of welcome fading as the door swung open to reveal Asad dressed in a pin-striped suit, as promised, looking gorgeous and sophisticated and totally out of her league.
A man she'd never met stood next to him, Priya and Khushi hovering in the background, gaping at him. Khushi even fanned herself and pretended to faint.
Asad whistled with appreciation. "Lord have mercy, lollipop. You are looking smoking hot. I can't even stay mad at you for desecrating my bedroom walls."
"Lollipop?" the stranger asked.
"A nickname given by Mr. Khan," she said. "And I did not desecrate his walls. I made them better. They were beige."
Stranger laughed, and she would have sworn fairies wept. "I think I'll stick with Zoya, then." He extended his hand. "I'm Armaan Malik."
As they shook, she took his measure. He topped out at six foot, an inch shorter than Asad.
His features were the most symmetrically perfect she'd ever seen. "I want to sketch you," she blurted out.
Asad stepped in front of him, thin white brackets of strain around his mouth. "There's no time for that. We have dinner reservations."
"We?" Armaan asked from behind him.
His gaze never left Zoya. "Did I forget to mention my darling requested a bodyguard?"
His darling? "I've changed my mind about that," she said. "You can stay""
"Too bad." Asad gave her the evil eye. "There are no take-backs."
"Don't worry about it," Armaan said. "Don't hate me, but I actually considered asking him to join us when he first called to set us up. I've never done the blind date thing, and I wasn't sure I'd like it." He winked at her. "I'm a big fan right now."
Flattered, she smiled at him. "I feel the same. I'll just...um..." Brain dead much? "I'll fetch my purse and we can be off." But all she had to do to "fetch" her purse was reach back and curl her fingers around the handle. So much for a needed reprieve."
"Both men offered a hand to help her down the step. Glancing at Asad, all you did this to yourself, she accepted Armaan's, twining their fingers.
"I have an idea," she told him. "We'll pretend this jerk isn't with us."
Armaan released another magical laugh, and Asad grunted.
"I'll drive," he announced when they reached the driveway full of cars.
"Excellent. Zoya and I will sit in back and get to know each other better." Armaan helped her inside.
Before he could walk around the car and take his own seat, Asad stopped him. The two engaged in a heated conversation for what seemed forever, their voices muffled. She couldn't understand what they were saying, but was it too much to hope Asad had realized his mistake and was telling the guy to go home?
Apparently it was too much to hope. They got inside, Asad behind the wheel, Armaan in back with her, as planned.
"Anyone want to tell me what that was about?" she asked.
"No," Asad said.
"Jerk gave me a lecture about minding my manners," Armaan said, amused.
"Were they too good?" she quipped.
Asad reached back and squeezed her knee, making her squeal. Then he had the gall to say, "Are you trying to make me have a wreck? Control yourself back there."
She pushed his hand away and leveled a smile at Armaan. "So. How did you and Asad meet?"
"Same foster home."
"A good one, I hope." What had these boys endured over the years?
"It was one of the best." Armaan smiled fondly. "I was happy for the first time in my life and didn't want to leave."
"She placed a hand over her heart. "Do you realize you just opened up to me and revealed a little about yourself? Are you a unicorn-shifter?"
"I don't know what a unicorn-shifter is." Asad expertly turned a corner. "But I tell you about myself all the time."
"Yeah, but I have to dig it out from you."
They reached the restaurant, a quaint little Italian place just outside city limits, and Armaan exited to hurry around and open her door. Street lamps surrounded the parking lot, chasing away most of the night's shadows. The parking lot was surprisingly empty considering an open sign flashed neon red over the entrance.
"Thank you," she said.
"What about my door?" Asad asked as he emerged.
"Why don't you stay in the car?" she suggested.
"Enjoy a little peace and quiet."
"That's the thanks I get? After I rented out the entire restaurant?"
Dang him, she melted. He'd put her comfort" Wait. I'm falling for this? She was on a date with a man he'd selected for her, for goodness' sake. "I'll send you a thank you car and a fruit basket tomorrow." She raised her chin. To Armaan, she added, "Sorry about this. I'm being rude, ignoring you, but""
Armaan chuckled as he drew her several steps ahead of Asad. He leaned toward her, whispering, "Look, I know there's something going on between you two. Rehaan called me earlier and told me you belong to Asad and I'm to keep my hands off you while helping him realize the terrible mistake he's making."
Rehaan was rooting for her?
"Speak up so the rest of the us can also hear." Asad trudged in front of them, opened the restaurant door.
Giddy, and feeling just a little evil, Zoya leaned her head against Armaan and petted his arm. "Isn't it obvious? We're getting to know each other better...and maybe even falling in love."
* * *
Round one did not end in Zoya's favor, and she pouted the entire drive home. Besides the three of them, there had been two other people in the restaurant: their waitress and the chef. Both happened to be females. Of course. Asad had claimed the table across the room, and when he hadn't been flirting shamelessly with the waitress, he'd been in back flirting shamelessly with the chef.
Without the pressure of having to rebuff Armaan, Zoya was able to relax and enjoy herself, doing a little flirting of her own, hoping to fan the flames of Asad's jealousy. He'd hardly seemed to notice, and as the night had worn on, he'd only become more charming with the staff.
Now, with the evening coming to a close, Asad parked in the driveway. Armaan helped her out, saying, "I'll walk you to your door."
Asad got out in a hurry and patted him on the shoulder. "There's no need for that, my friend. I've got it from here."
"How kind of you," Armaan said.
"Isn't it? We had a great time, by the way."
Zoya glared at Asad. "Will we be calling him for another date?"
Asad flashed his teeth in a grin utterly devoid of humor. "We'll discuss it."
Armaan tried to mask a laugh with a cough.
"Well, I certainly hope you do, Zoya Faaroqui. I don't remember the last time I've had so much fun."
She flipped her hair over her shoulder, the ends slapping Asad in the face. "You are a man of great taste. Unlike some people I know."
Asad gave the guy a push toward his car.
"My friend. "I'll call you tomorrow and let you know the verdict."
"Please do," Armaan replied.
"Actually, bypass the middleman. You have my number," Zoya reminded him, and he winked at her before sliding into his car.
"You gave him your phone number?" Asad thundered.
Shouldn't grin. "Do you have a problem with that?"
At first he offered no response, watching as Armaan's car roared to life and meandered out of the drive. When the taillights at last disappeared around the corner, Asad whirled on her and shouted, "Hell, yes, I have a problem with that. I shouldn't have to tell you this, pumpkin, but he's not right for you. I could tell within five seconds. Why couldn't you?" He wrapped an arm around her waist and led her toward the RV. "I did you a favor, sending him away. He would have tried to kiss you at the door."
Maybe, but only for Asad's benefit. Even if she hadn't been enamored with someone else, she and Armaan would not have been right for each other. Asad nailed it. They'd lacked chemistry.
"Did you ever stop to think I might want to be kissed?" she asked.
"Baby, you should fall to your knees and thank me for being here to save you from yourself."
She stepped in his path and placed her hand on his chest, stopping him. It was then she felt the barely suppressed tension in him, the knotted muscles and the swift pounding of his heart.
"A kiss isn't a big deal, Asad. Is it?"
Glowering, he said, "It certainly should be."
I'm getting somewhere with this man. Have to be. "Has it ever been a big deal for you?"
"Only with you." He was on her a second later, pressing her against the cool RV wall. His lips smashed into hers, his tongue driving into her mouth to demand its due.
She told herself to pull away, to push him away"something. They hadn't come to any kind of understanding, and he'd just arranged for her to go out with another man. But she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life, even tilting her head and welcoming him deeper. The desire always simmering below the surface of her skin boiled out of control, spilling over, consuming every inch of her.
Her legs trembled, her knees weakened.
"Do you want me?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Only me?"
She pressed her lips together, refusing to answer.
"I want you." He unzipped her dress from the back. "Here, now."
"Asad, I..." Stop. Think.
He gripped her waist with one hand, wound a lock of her hair with the other. "Say yes, Zoya. I'll take care of you. I swear I'll take care of you."
But for how long?
Crap! Crap, crap, crap. Ice-cold waves washed over her, invading her bloodstream, dousing the fire he'd stoked, and she realized she was right back where she'd started: going nowhere fast.
"Asad..." She had to tell him the truth, and she had to make him understand why she wanted what she wanted. "I can't do this. I'm not casual about sex. I've never been casual about sex. I... Asad, I've never been with a man, and I can't"I won't"give my virginity to a one-night stand."
He stiffened, shook his head as if he'd misheard her. "But...you can't be..." He scrubbed a hand over his face, different emotions playing in his brown eyes. Anger. Longing. Relief. Even possessiveness?
"I've been up-front about my long-term goals from the beginning. I plan to give myself to the man I'm committed to, and no one else." Be that man. Please.
He released her, fixing his shirt as he backed away. Considering she'd nearly gone up in flames a few moments before, the forced separation almost killed her; she had to swallow a cry.
"I... I'm sorry, Zoya," he stammered. "I didn't know, or I never would have pushed you..." He looked so lost, so broken. "You're a prize, and you're worth more than what I can give you. I'm sorry," he repeated. Then the stubborn male turned, walked up the drive and disappeared inside the house."
A/N: Will reply to remaining comments now...next update will not be tonight but tomorrow night (morning in India) at regular time.
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