Look at those damned eyes of his. I can only imagine the power they’d have if Ireallyliked the guy.Fuuuuuuck, he has me rattled…
But then he gives me a slow smile, right back to his sly, flirty self.
“You’re on, Salvi. Lead the way.”
8
BAHRAIN
SAME NIGHT
ALEXANDER
Sage claims she’s tired, but I see no evidence of that. On the way up to our floor, she bounces on her feet in the lift, hopscotch-leaps along the patterned hall carpeting on our floor, and does a martial-arts kick over the top of a rubbish bin, concluding in a spin and some thrown air punches. She’s a bright little electron, and being in her atomic field is exhilarating.
Of course, I keep myself to a mild stroll, hands in my pockets, as if unaffected. We pass my room and turn down the next hall, headed for the VIP suites so Sage can retrieve the video props. She’s doing an alternating sideways gallop, singing to herself, moved by her own internal music. She arrives at her door while I’m still half a hallway behind, and swiping her key card, holds up a finger to let me know she’ll be right back.
I catch up and lean against the opposite wall, waiting. Seconds later, I hear her headed for the door again, in raised-voiceconversation. The door is flung open and Sage bounds out, plastic sack slung over one shoulder like a burglar, with Priya trailing behind.
Priya glares at me, then at Sage. “You’ve got to be kidding. Surely you have bettertaste.” The emphasis implies a callback to some previous conversation between the two.
Shoving the bag at me to carry, Sage pivots toward her friend and leans against my side. “Aww, you’re gonna hurt his feelings.”
“He doesn’thaveany,” Priya snaps. “Aside from ‘horny’ and ‘superior.’”
I offer a bland smile. “Don’t mind me—I’m just holding the wall up.”
She ignores this, and her expression goes from annoyed to plaintive as she stares at Sage. “You said on the plane that we’re gonnatalk about stuffrather than you throwing tantrums. You’re obviously pissed off, but I can’t fix it if you’re fake with me.”
Sage gives a dismissive snort. “Nothing to discuss, babes. If you need someone to keep you company that bad, I’m sure you can call Julian.”
The name seems to hit Priya like a slap, and there’s a moment of tense silence between the two; I feel like quite the gooseberry. Are they in competition over some man? An ex of Sage’s, whom Priya is now dating? The bitterness is palpable.
“Is that what this is about?” Priya asks.
Grabbing my shirtsleeve at the bicep, Sage pulls me into motion. “I’ll be back in a few hours!” she throws over her shoulder.
“Sage, this is stupid,” Priya calls after us. “Tomorrow’s the GP. You need to go to bed.”
Spinning to walk backward, arm linked through mine, Sagereplies, “Who says that’snotwhere I’m going?” As I’m dragged around the corner, I hear the suite door click shut. Once we’re out of sight, Sage lets me go.
We proceed to the door of my room and I usher her through. Inside, she chews at her cheek with a faraway look. Brow knitted, she plants her hands on her hips and does a circuit of the modest room, dominated by one king-size bed.
“Salvi,” I say, dropping the bag on a chair and following her to the window, “why are you winding up your friend? You seemed to imply to her that we’re here for… other reasons.”
She wrinkles her nose at me. “Just a li’l mischief, honeybee.”
She looks back out the window, and the way the city lights below cast a glow on her face reminds me of childhood, holding a buttercup under someone’s chin for its golden reflection. This woman affects me so oddly, I scarcely know what to make of it. From afar, it was just lust and curiosity. Now that I’m near her, it’s stitched through with a bright thread of something that tugs at the heart of me. I’m both restless and relaxed, like the feeling of seeing London draw nearer out the window of a plane when I’m arriving home.
The words escape me before I can evaluate the emotion that spurs them. “I won’t have sex with you as a practical joke, or because you’re rebounding or feeling spiteful.”
Her stunned laugh is almost a hiccup. “Well, that’s mighty presumptuous! You’re in no danger. I was just messing with Pri.” After a pause in which mortification curdles in me, she asks, “But seriously, you wouldn’t? Like, if I asked nice? I assumed you’re kind of a slut.”
I perch on the arm of a chair, keenly feeling the danger inour proximity. “Not for the reasons I stated, no. Though possibly for others. I can’t claim I don’t fancy you.”
“What kind of other reasons?Love?” She adds this last word with a disdainful sarcasm.
“Honest attraction would suffice. I’m far from impoverished sexually, where I’d leap at any offer, and no one likes the feeling of being a pawn in a war in which they have no stake.”
