Chapter Eight Ajay

Ajay’s phone buzzed as he stepped out of his private elevator. The name that flashed across the screen had him smiling.

“You promised you’d clear your Monday calendar for me,” he said when he answered. She had been on his mind, a distraction from the work he needed to accomplish. He wanted to listen to her smoky voice, with that cultured, barely there accent he hadn’t heard since he danced with her at the wedding. The fact that she had him waiting put him on edge.

“It’s been a long day, darling,” she replied.

Ajay had expected her to take the bait, to say something pithy, but he could hear her exhaustion. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Besides buy my company? No. If you have a minute, we can talk. Or you can just send your questions to my attorney if you prefer.”

“There are quite a few. Starting with what kept you busy all day when you’re trying to sell. Not a good look.” Ajay toed off his shoes and dropped his bag on his dining table. The automatic motion lights sensed his presence and a warm glow spread through his living area and kitchen. His two-story floor-to-ceiling windows sparkled with views of the New York City skyline.

“I told you the first time we met. I don’t play games,” he said.

“Ajay, just ask your questions so I can leave my office and go home.”

Now he was sure something was wrong. He opened his stainless steel fridge and spotted some vegetables and a packet of chicken thighs. Even as another one of Raj’s sighs echoed through the receiver, an idea formed in his head.

“Why don’t you come over?”

“Come over? Where?” The surprise was evident in her voice.

“To my penthouse. Have you had dinner?”

“No, but—”

“I’ll cook. Are you a vegetarian?”

“No. Ajay—”

“Good,” he said. “I was hoping for chicken. Just a simple chicken masala. None of the oil and butter gravy bullshit that restaurants serve, I promise.” He took out a few items and lined them up on his island counter. “I’ll send a car to your office to pick you up. Text me your address.”

There was that sigh again. It was delicate and said so much. Ajay couldn’t help but grin even as he knew she was going to lacerate him.

“I’m not going to have sex with you.”

“Of course not,” he replied. “I haven’t fed you yet.”

“Ajay.”

“Raj.” He put her on speakerphone and took off his jacket. “It’s just dinner. Bring your damn computer if it’ll make you feel better. But let’s have some food and talk about this. I spent the whole day on the phone and on my laptop. I want to spend some time with a beautiful woman in person now, even if it is to do more work.”

She waited a beat before responding. “I’ll bring dessert.” And with that, she hung up the phone.

Ajay grinned as he rolled his sleeves to his elbows. “You’ve made things more interesting since you’ve showed up, Rajneet Kaur Hothi. I’ll give you that.” After forwarding the address she’d sent to his driver, he got to work.

He put his surround-sound speakers to use and played some music on low. There was already a bottle of white from his family vineyards chilling, and it took no time at all for the sounds of garlic, onions, ghee, and cumin seeds to sizzle in a wok on his restaurant-grade stove.

Ajay liked to say that his mother taught him how to cook, but in all honesty, his mother had refused to let him in the kitchen. It was her domain and she did what she wanted. It wasn’t until he started working long hours after college that he realized if he wanted home cooking, he’d have to do it himself. And then the art of putting dinner together, even if it was only to feed himself on late nights, relaxed him. It was the perfect transition he needed after a long day.

It didn’t hurt his sex life, either.

He’d set the chicken to simmer and the naan in the oven to warm when his phone buzzed.

FRONT DESK:Mr. Singh, we have a Ms. Hothi here to see you.

AJAY:Send her up. Please also add her to the list of approved visitors.

FRONT DESK:Yes, sir.

Anticipation hummed in his veins as he filled two wineglasses. He took one of them to the door with him and opened it just as Raj stepped out of the elevator. She looked elegant in her cream sheath dress with short sleeves and a boat neck. For the first time, Ajay could see the elegant curve of her neck, since she’d scooped her hair up in a loose ponytail. Raj paused when she spotted him, surprise etched in the tired lines of her face, changing to approval at the glass of wine in his hand.

“I hope that’s for me,” she said.

“You sounded like you could use it.”

“I could, yes.”

She gave him her large tote to carry and slipped the wineglass out of his hand. Ajay moved just enough so she could enter his apartment. She had to brush past him, and the look she shot him over her shoulder had Ajay grinning. She knew exactly what he’d done.

Ajay waited as she removed her heels and then followed her silently into his kitchen.

“This is... wow,” she said as she stopped in front of the windows. “My brownstone could never compete with the view.”

He put her tote down next to his briefcase and moved behind her. “Even if you had the option of a penthouse, it wouldn’t accomplish what you were trying to do.”

“Oh?” Her lips pursed, naked of any lipstick. “Do tell what you think I was trying to accomplish.”

“No need to get all fiery. A brownstone is a statement home. It’s commonly associated with old money, with class and distinction. A penthouse is for the artists and the new-money types. To establish a business in a man’s world, you needed distinction, not artistry. My father did the heavy lifting for my family. Created a compound in New Jersey. That’s why I could do whatever the hell I wanted. No one cares where I live or what that says about me. Not yet, anyway.”

“That’s remarkably... astute,” Raj said. She put her wineglass down on the counter, then walked over to the kitchen sink to wash her hands. “Is there anything I can do? Please say no, since I’m a terrible cook.”

“No.” Ajay grinned. “It’s almost ready. Not into cooking?”

“No. I brought over my family housekeeper. He does everything for me, including keeping me fed. I’d think you’d have someone like that, too.”

“I prefer things this way.” He dipped a spoon in the masala sauce, blew on it, then held it out for Raj to taste. “Tell me what you think.”

Ajay slipped the spoon between her plump, naked lips. Her eyes drifted closed in pleasure. “Mmm,” she moaned. The throaty sound had his dick hardening painfully in a second.

“You made it spicy,” she said.

“Too hot?” His voice turned gruff, but he didn’t care.

“No. It’s perfect. Ajay, you are full of surprises.”

Her tongue wet her top lip in a slow, sweeping motion.

His control snapped. He tossed the spoon he was holding into the sink with a resounding clatter and, without a word of warning, yanked her to him and pressed his mouth against hers.

She tasted delicious. Spicy and sweet. Rich and sharp from the wine. Her mouth was pliant and soft under his as he bowed over her, desperate to consume that first taste. She opened under him, her tongue meeting his even as her fingers dove into his hair and his arms wrapped around her waist. Ajay took, tasting her, drowning, desperate for more.

When she slanted her mouth against his, pressing impossibly closer, he growled and lifted her inches off the ground so his erection could nestle at the juncture of her thighs.

They moaned in unison from the delicious feel of fitting together, before Raj pulled back.

“I said I wouldn’t sleep with you,” she whispered, out of breath and sounding desperate. Her eyes dropped to his mouth and she kissed him. Once. Twice. Again, with a hint of teeth.

“I haven’t asked you to.”

“Then you should probably let me go.”

Slowly, knowing that he was torturing them both, he let her slide down the length of his body until she was on her feet again.

She stepped back, adjusted her dress, and straightened her ponytail. “Really, Ajay?” She sounded shaky, just like he felt. “You feed me, and that’s all it takes?”

“It was the sex noises, actually,” he said as he pulled the naan out of the oven and rested the tray on the cooling rack. “Next time you do that, I’ll be throwing you over my shoulder and showing you my bedroom.”

“Promises, promises,” she said.

He gripped her waist and, unable to help himself, pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck before he gently moved her to the side so he could get plates and bowls from a cabinet. “Better keep your distance, woman. Okay to eat with your hands?”

“I won’t even answer that insulting question.”

“Hands it is.”

They washed up, and as Ajay brought the food to the table in front of his windows, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction as she kept a wide berth. He was still burning for her, but it was nice to know that her cool demeanor was hiding the same fire.

He topped off their glasses and, with his phone, dimmed the lights so New York could shine. “Now. Tell me what happened today.”

Raj froze, a torn wedge of naan hovering over her chicken. “That’s not your—”

“Stop right there. Before you get defensive, I’m not asking you because you’re obligated to share, because we want each other, but because I want to listen. Maybe that’ll help.”

Ajay watched her as she scooped up chicken and took a bite. Her eyes drifted closed. “This is really good, Ajay. My compliments to the chef.”

“Thank you.”

He dug into his food, as well, and for a few minutes they ate in silence.

“My mother is dying.”

The words cut through the air like his chef’s knife. “Oh, baby.”

“I-I’m sad,” she said in Punjabi, then switched back to English, as if she realized her slip. “I know logically I’m sad, but I haven’t spoken to my mother since I married Robert. My brother, he’s the one who told me, ensured that the whole family was cut off from me. I’ve accepted that.”

“Why did your brother cut you off? Because you married a white guy?” He could understand some very traditional Punjabi families with status doing the same thing. Hell, his extended family had cut off his cousin Bhram for being gay.

Ajay saw her hesitation as she sipped her wine. “I’m not going to tell anyone, Raj,” he assured her. “This is off the record.”

“It’s not that. It’s just that I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone other than Mina and Robert.”

“Told anyone what?”

“My father owns thousands of acres of poppy fields. My family has an... operation.”

“Poppy fields? Poppy... You’re talking opium.” His stomach twisted. Shit. His uncle had gotten in trouble with the mob because of his drug habit. He would have to call Sri later to find out what Raj’s connections were with organized crime, and if she was connected in any way to the group that had harmed his family. “Does your father still do opium?”

“My brother has taken over, but from what I understand, it’s mostly legal now. They’re a supplier for pharma companies.”

Well, thank the gods, Ajay thought to himself. He wasn’t a fool. He knew the reason it mattered so much was because he wanted her, and her connections to his family were already complicated enough. “I’m assuming it wasn’t always legal, though.”

Raj took a bite and chewed before answering. “This is incredible, Ajay. You’ve surprised me.”

“Thank you, but you’re changing the subject.”

She laughed, and her ponytail slid over her shoulder. She looked so young now. It was a layer of Raj’s personality that Ajay ached to see, and now that he’d witnessed the vulnerability, he wanted to do everything he could to help her. To protect her.

She’d probably knee him if he ever admitted that. Instead, he topped off their wine and waited for her to finish.

“Growing up, things were... dark in my home, even if they kept the drugs and guns out of sight from me and my mother. All I was expected to do was finish my twelfth standard and then get married. My parents had been so controlling my whole life. I had security at all times. Going to school, coming home from school, even at weddings we attended. My only escape was books, and I studied hard. I wanted freedom. I never wanted to be at the mercy of someone else’s checkbook.”

“So you convinced your parents you should go to college. Except instead of going home after you finished, you found your escape with Robert Douglass and got married instead.”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “Yes, you could say that. My plan was to switch my student visa to an H visa. I had a few job opportunities lined up that were willing to sponsor my H. I was at the top of my class, and I wasn’t worried about the work. My family, however, worried me. They would fly to the US and drag me home, H visa be damned.”

“Sounds like something my family would do in similar circumstances.”

“Robert’s, too. He screwed around for most of his childhood and then for the first two years of college. They had a very specific life planned for him, too, because they didn’t trust him to make sound decisions on his own. They were worried about their reputation.”

“And Robert didn’t want that?”

“No, darling,” she said with a laugh.

“How did you meet the bastard anyway? He was in classes with you?”

Raj nodded. “We’d met through a study group, and after I told him that he didn’t have a chance in hell with me, we became friends. It was an odd friendship, but he was always respectful after that. Years passed until a few weeks before graduation. He wanted to go to law school and prove himself, while I was sweating, thinking about my parents showing up on my doorstep. That’s when we struck a deal over cheap beer and nachos in the West Village.”

Ajay burst out laughing. “Raj, you are not the cheap beer and nachos type.”

“I was when I had no money,” she said. “And Robert used to play along.”

Ajay slid another naan onto her plate and took one for himself. “You borrowed his money to start your company, and he went to law school. Then he started working for you, right?”

“Pretty much. And then my brother showed up.” She took another bite of food. Ajay tried to ignore the way her eyes drifted closed when she chewed. The way she savored something he made for her was going to be the vision he revisited in the shower later that night. Her sensuality was like a drug he had to consciously ignore so he could pay attention.

“Your brother,” he said.

Raj nodded. “I had kept in touch with him and my mother. It was brief, and the conversations were hard, because they hated what I’d done. My father was completely out of the picture, but Mom still loved me. Anyway, Guru found out about my security business and said it was time to show loyalty to the family that gave me the opportunity to live free in New York.”

“He wanted you to use your business to help their drug trade.”

“Pretty much. At that point, drugs had become an epidemic in Punjab, and drug trafficking had peaked in profits. They wanted my loyalty. I refused. My brother cut me off. And then—” Her breath hitched. “Then my mother cut me off. Guru didn’t want anyone in the family to have any connection with me.”

“I’m so sorry.” He’d have to find out more about her brother, too. The thought of someone hurting Raj like that was... unacceptable.

She was being honest with him, sharing a part of herself that he didn’t think she’d be open to delving into. Whatever her reasons were, he’d honor her trust. And then, maybe later, he’d be able to beat the shit out of her brother for hurting her.

“I put it behind me,” she continued. “That’s why I was a bit shocked when my brother said she wants to see me one last time.”

“To assuage her guilt. Since she’s dying.”

“Exactly. He ruined my perfectly good mood, too. I’m thinking of getting a puppy, and the shelter that I volunteer at may have one for me.”

Ajay didn’t think she could have surprised him any more than she just had. “A puppy?”

“Yup. I’ve always wanted one. Just my dog and me.”

“Ugh, you’re the type to torture a poor pooch by dressing it up, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” she said with a laugh.

He asked her more questions about her future puppy, about her childhood, about her mother, and if she knew whether or not she wanted to go home and say goodbye. He’d have to revisit her confession about organized crime connections later.

“Want some more wine?” Ajay asked after they finished their meal. “Saffron Fields limited stock.”

“Yes. It’ll probably go great with dessert.” She dug into her tote bag and pulled out a Tupperware container.

“Is that... is that kheer?”

“It is. I told you I’d bring dessert. I just happened to have this in my office. Remember that housekeeper I told you about? Kaka made me a ton before he went back to India for a couple weeks.”

“You’ve just topped my masala chicken with rice pudding.”

Her smile was so arresting that Ajay had to turn away from her and busy himself with grabbing two spoons, otherwise he’d do something stupid like ask her to stay the night. Stay for the weekend. Stay for... well, however long she wanted.

And wasn’t that a scary thought? The back of his neck prickled with unease as he let it sink in.

He handed over a spoon, and they dug into the kheer together, taking sips of the wine between bites.

“Thank you,” she said when they’d practically polished off the container.

“For what?”

“For being a friend tonight.”

Her words rubbed against him like sandpaper. Hadn’t she just told him how she met her soon-to-be ex-husband? There was no way he was going to let her pull the same bullshit with him. “I’m not your friend, Raj.”

Her eyebrow raised delicately. “No?”

“No.” He reached out and cupped her chin, holding firm even as she pulled back. “Don’t you dare treat me like you treat that asshole, Robert, or put me in the same category as Mina. If we’re going to be involved, I want more than that. I think I’ve made that clear.”

“I’ll only give you what I’m ready to give, Ajay. And if that means friendship, then that’s what you’ll take.”

His anger began to boil, even as she pulled away from him. “I never thought you’d be a coward, Raj.”

“Excuse me?”

“You just unloaded. You’re regretting it. So now, to protect yourself, you’re trying to keep me at a safe distance.”

She paled, then shot to her feet. “I think your feelings are hurt and you’re reading into things a bit to save your poor ego.”

“And I still think you’re a coward.” He stood, as well, nose to nose with her. “We’ve wanted each other from the first moment that we met. And now you’re backpedaling. Is it too much to share both your body and your mind with me?”

She grabbed her tote, her hands fumbling as she looped it over her shoulder. “I think we’re done here. Thank you for dinner. Send my questions to Legal, will you, darling?”

He followed her to the door, close behind. “Dammit, what did you think was going to happen between us? We’d just casually fuck, I’d buy you out, eat you out, and we’d go on our merry way?”

She whirled on her heel to face him, anger in her eyes. “If that’s what I wanted, then yes, that’s all that would happen. You don’t get to push me, to bully me into more than what I’m willing to offer.”

“And you don’t get to run scared from something that could be great for both of us, or assume I’ll fall in line like that puppy you’ve always wanted.”

She yanked open the door, shoes and bag in hand. “Ajay Singh, you’ll fucking roll over like I expect you to or you could kiss anything between us goodbye,” she said, and slammed the door behind her.