“Going out may not be wise,” Krish said, which Sejal actually concurred with. Parading around town with Viktor after them? Definitely better that they stay tucked away up here.
Aarthi stirred. “The town is safe. You’ll be fine.”
Some secret communication seemed to pass between son and mother, because Krish finally nodded. “Okay.”
Patrick pulled out his keys, followed by his phone and a credit card. “Here you go. Go on, have some fun for the day. Call your mom’s phone or the house if you two need anything.”
Funwasn’t really possible when on the run for one’s life, but Sejal smiled like the besotted Rolex sales girl she was supposed to be.
Aarthi smiled back at her, but Sejal was sure Krish’s mother didn’t buy her act. Which was fine, because Sejal didn’t buy Aarthi’s act, either.
Chapter Twelve
Krish tugged on the brim of his baseball cap to better cover his face and leaned back in the quaint rocking chair outside the general store. He inhaled the cold air, hoping it would fill his lungs, but nothing could get the scent of Sejal out of his nostrils. She was inside the store, but it was also like she was imprinted on him.
A mistake. A release.
The words had tasted like lies on his tongue when he’d uttered them, but as he lay there in the early morning sun with Sejal on top of him, he’d forced himself to try to believe them.
They’d had sex, oral sex, but sex. He now knew what she tasted like, what her thighs felt like around his head and draped over his shoulders.
He’d had sex with her. She’d had sex with him. No matter how he sliced the pronouns and verb, the reality was that the two of them—two people fate had basically declared adversaries, born to families on different sides of the law—had slept together.
Krish nodded at a stranger, who barely gave him a second glance. He wasn’t particularly worried that Alexei and Viktor could sneak up on them here. He’d visited this town only oncebefore, when his mother had brought him here to show him the safe house, but if his mom said it was safe, he believed her.
This place was extremely similar to the small town he’d grown up in and itched to leave. His brother had itched to leave their hometown, too.
Neither of them had been back to visit very often. Avi had craved better weather and the excitement of a thriving nightlife and women, while Krish had yearned for the convenience of stores that stayed open past seven p.m. and a more diverse population. It was only their mother, who had ironically enough grown up in the bustling metropolitan city of Mumbai, who adored their ranch in the middle of nowhere, Montana.
Krish ran his hands over the arms of the rocking chair. He’d already done his own shopping to restock his clothes and toiletries, and his purchases were in the brown paper bag at his feet. Men’s fashion was pretty simple out here, especially at this time of year, when the weather was turning. All the jeans on display were stiff Wranglers, and all the shirts were flannel or cotton in various shades of plaid. He’d changed in the small dressing room before buying his clothes, a pair of jeans and a maroon Henley, along with a cream-colored coat that suited the weather.
When he was about six, his mother had brought him to a small general shop like this one, to find clothes for the upcoming winter season. He’d wandered around the store, finding all the heavy, soft material overwhelming and exotic, a sharp cultural contrast to the fine cotton he was used to wearing.
The cold seeped through his clothes, and he shivered.You’ll be warm enough once you’re on the West Coast.Which was why he’d also dropped some warm-weather clothes into his basket. He didn’t want to take advantage of his mom and stepfather’s financial generosity, but much as he’d been at eighteen, he was ready to get the hell out of their home, so he had to think ahead.
And not think about Sejal’s thighs anymore.
Definitely don’tthink about that.
How could he not? Despite the stirrings of attraction he’d felt toward her before, he hadn’t dared to think about what her naked body might actually look like. Now he couldn’t think of anything else. He mourned that he hadn’t taken off her shirt.
He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable in his new, stiff jeans. He hadn’t lied to Sejal, he wasn’t going to die from blue balls, but he had had to take a very icy shower to get rid of his erection this morning. Frigid water was not a fun experience.
You were the one who told her it wouldn’t happen again.
Because that was the reasonable, rational thing to do. And she’d agreed that it had been an error in judgment, a mistake.
She didn’t seem affected at all. A little cool this morning, but she’d easily slipped back into being casually relaxed with him. So he’d stuff all of this desire down and carry on, like the hyper-focused, logical person he was.
He swallowed, hating how badly he wanted to taste her again. It was like a switch had been flipped in his brain, a switch that had been teased before but now was firmly turnedon.
You’ve kissed her before.Except back in that bar, she’d still been a pawn, a Chaudhary, Cobra’s daughter and granddaughter, and not... not Sejal. Not a complicated, reluctantly kind, funny, intelligent, competent person in her own right.
Because Cobra is bad, Sejal.
She’d looked stricken, for a moment, when he’d said that, and he’d considered taking it back. However, he didn’t know how to explain to Sejal that the reason they had to keep her connection toCobra quiet wasn’t because his mother would hate her for being Cobra’s daughter. No, it was because his mother would immediately realize he was up to something tied to Avi, blow up Krish’s impersonation, and do everything in her power to stop him.
Krish examined the sinking feeling in his stomach. Fuck. It was guilt. For so much, but especially for pinging what was obviously a sensitive subject for Sejal. She hid her emotions quickly, but she did not like to be painted with the sins of her parents. Who did, really?
