the challenge. That husband of hers must’ve really done a number on her.”
“Sam’s not all bad,” Rahul defended instinctively. He had school ties with both men from different parts of his life, and he hated to have to pick sides. He wouldn’t pick sides. “Now, he’s downright decent. Practically domestic. Do you want to meet him?” He made a show of reaching for his mobile, which lay a safe distance from the range. “I can ring him right now and ask him to come round. We can be one big happy family.”
“Bollocks.” Davey made a face. “I don’t need to make nice with the ex. Not yet. Sunny already thinks I’m the second coming of the British conquest. No need for her to think I’m in league with the enemy as well.”
“Third coming,” he corrected, smoothly. “The Stones and the Beatles were the second. The important question here, yaar , is if she wants you “
“Oh, she wants me, all right. About as bloody much as I want her. It practically burns. Being in a room with her is like touching fire.”
“Then go get her. Because, God knows, someone needs a heartwarming reunion.”
Chapter Ten
He hadn’t really thought she would do it, come round to his place. He’d expected tart remarks about how she didn’t answer summonses and a follow-up SMS about how she’d see him at the studio on Monday, assuming he’d successfully removed his head from his arse by then. But, for all his scripting, all she’d said was “I’ll be there,” and, lo, two hours later she’d appeared on his doorstep.
Davey’s rooms were the drab, colorless tones of temporary housing. There was nothing personal about the beige furnishings, the straw mats on the walls that were the Indian equivalent of starving artist hotel paintings. In her two-toned salwar suit, Sunita stood out like a bird of paradise, all brightness and energy. “Go and get her,” Rahul had said, but it was so much more satisfying to have her come to him. To realize that, with her here, he finally felt like he was home.
“What do you want, Mr. Shaw?” She was pacing the floor like a caged lioness, the metaphor all the more apropos due to the orange-yellow hues of her clothes. A lioness, a sunset, an inferno. God, just looking at her drove him to poetic heights. And to madness. “Why did you call me over here?”
There was no way she didn’t already know. It was in the way she held herself, the way she’d looked at him when she stepped over the threshold and the way she was trying not to look at him now. Likely she’d drawn up all sorts of scenarios on the drive over…and every single one of them was probably spot-on.
“You really have to ask?” he forced past the sudden thickness of his tongue.
“Yes. I do.” Her brows snapped together like curtains being pulled shut, and her body stopped its restless motion. This wasn’t the volcanic fury he was used to, those delicious daily eruptions that fired the blood. No, it was something else, just as volatile but leashed tight. “Tell me your terms. What do you expect? Public ya private? Dinner dates or just the dessert? Just…fun?” Her voice caught on the word, and what was going through that beautiful brain of hers, he couldn’t have guessed on pain of death.
Davey had all sorts of answers for her, each one filthier than the last. But he reined in his baser impulses…at least the voluntary ones, if not the ones straining at the fly of his trousers. “I expect whatever you’re willing to give me.” For now. “For God’s sake, Rani Sahiba , don’t tell me you don’t feel this, too.” He’d given her space when she first walked in, but now he closed it, metaphorical whip and chair at the ready. “Don’t tell me you don’t need this…that you haven’t been thinking of it every day since we met.”
“I don’t. I haven’t. I’ve learned all too well the flaws of men. I know you are weak, and if an affair keeps you on point at the office, then who am I to argue?” Her
“Sam’s not all bad,” Rahul defended instinctively. He had school ties with both men from different parts of his life, and he hated to have to pick sides. He wouldn’t pick sides. “Now, he’s downright decent. Practically domestic. Do you want to meet him?” He made a show of reaching for his mobile, which lay a safe distance from the range. “I can ring him right now and ask him to come round. We can be one big happy family.”
“Bollocks.” Davey made a face. “I don’t need to make nice with the ex. Not yet. Sunny already thinks I’m the second coming of the British conquest. No need for her to think I’m in league with the enemy as well.”
“Third coming,” he corrected, smoothly. “The Stones and the Beatles were the second. The important question here, yaar , is if she wants you “
“Oh, she wants me, all right. About as bloody much as I want her. It practically burns. Being in a room with her is like touching fire.”
“Then go get her. Because, God knows, someone needs a heartwarming reunion.”
Chapter Ten
He hadn’t really thought she would do it, come round to his place. He’d expected tart remarks about how she didn’t answer summonses and a follow-up SMS about how she’d see him at the studio on Monday, assuming he’d successfully removed his head from his arse by then. But, for all his scripting, all she’d said was “I’ll be there,” and, lo, two hours later she’d appeared on his doorstep.
Davey’s rooms were the drab, colorless tones of temporary housing. There was nothing personal about the beige furnishings, the straw mats on the walls that were the Indian equivalent of starving artist hotel paintings. In her two-toned salwar suit, Sunita stood out like a bird of paradise, all brightness and energy. “Go and get her,” Rahul had said, but it was so much more satisfying to have her come to him. To realize that, with her here, he finally felt like he was home.
“What do you want, Mr. Shaw?” She was pacing the floor like a caged lioness, the metaphor all the more apropos due to the orange-yellow hues of her clothes. A lioness, a sunset, an inferno. God, just looking at her drove him to poetic heights. And to madness. “Why did you call me over here?”
There was no way she didn’t already know. It was in the way she held herself, the way she’d looked at him when she stepped over the threshold and the way she was trying not to look at him now. Likely she’d drawn up all sorts of scenarios on the drive over…and every single one of them was probably spot-on.
“You really have to ask?” he forced past the sudden thickness of his tongue.
“Yes. I do.” Her brows snapped together like curtains being pulled shut, and her body stopped its restless motion. This wasn’t the volcanic fury he was used to, those delicious daily eruptions that fired the blood. No, it was something else, just as volatile but leashed tight. “Tell me your terms. What do you expect? Public ya private? Dinner dates or just the dessert? Just…fun?” Her voice caught on the word, and what was going through that beautiful brain of hers, he couldn’t have guessed on pain of death.
Davey had all sorts of answers for her, each one filthier than the last. But he reined in his baser impulses…at least the voluntary ones, if not the ones straining at the fly of his trousers. “I expect whatever you’re willing to give me.” For now. “For God’s sake, Rani Sahiba , don’t tell me you don’t feel this, too.” He’d given her space when she first walked in, but now he closed it, metaphorical whip and chair at the ready. “Don’t tell me you don’t need this…that you haven’t been thinking of it every day since we met.”
“I don’t. I haven’t. I’ve learned all too well the flaws of men. I know you are weak, and if an affair keeps you on point at the office, then who am I to argue?” Her
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