Despite her denial, a telltale bit of chocolate smudged the corner of her mouth. My hand seemed to act of its own accord as I reached out and rubbed a gentle thumb over the spot.
“You’re lying again,” I said softly.
My touch lingered a second longer than it should’ve. Maya’s lips parted, and the air between us pulsed before I dropped my arm and slid my hand in my pocket. My palm tingled with the ghost of her warmth, but I crushed it before it spread.
“I’ve had a lot going on.” She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. There was a slight tremor in her hand. After a beat, she added, “Were you spying on me again the other day at Brasserie M?”
“No.” It was the truth—sort of.
Maya let out a low laugh, filled with disbelief. “Who’s the liar now?”
“I’m not lying. I wasn’t there in person, but I asked the staff to keep an eye on you. If you were on a date and looked miserable again, they had instructions to cheer you up.”
“Why?” she asked. “What is your fascination with how my dates are going?”
“I’m a connoisseur of schadenfreude.”
She rolled her eyes. “In that case, you’ll love what I have to say next.” Her expression sobered as she hesitated, as though debating whether to continue. “After that date went so poorly, my parents decided they’ve had enough. Long story short, if I don’t get engaged by next November, they’ll arrange a marriage for me.”
It took a second for the impact of her words to hit. When it did, it knocked the air clean out of my lungs.
My muscles coiled tight as I struggled to maintain a neutral expression.
Maya, in an arranged marriage? Impossible.
Such arrangements were still common in many parts of the world. Hell, Dante and Vivian’s marriage was an arranged one; they hadn’t fallen in love until months after their engagement.
But the Singhs had always allowed their daughters to date whomever they wanted, within reason, and out of all their children, Maya was the least suited for an arranged marriage.
She was too fiery. Too untamable.
Too mine.
I squashed the last thought before it had time to take root. Danger skirted the edges of my awareness, and my hand fisted in my pocket until I forced it to relax.
“I see.” I barely heard myself over the thrashing of my heart. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
“I don’t know. I have a year before they pull that trigger, and I hope I’ll never have to find out.” A deep sigh seeped between her lips. “I guess that’ll be my birthday present if I don’t find the love of my life in the next twelve months. One husband hand-delivered to my door, whether I like it or not.”
I knew better than to ask if she’d go against her parents’ wishes.She was as independent as they came, but the consequences of defying them would be too severe. In her family, it simply wasn’t done.
“Then I guess you’ll have to find the love of your life in a year or less,” I said. “No pressure.”
“None whatsoever.” Her tone was dry.
In a past life, I would’ve offered another solution, but that wasn’t possible now.
I wasn’t someone who made the same mistake twice.
“Anyway, enough depressing topics for now,” Maya said. “What did you get me for my birthday? Can’t wait to see how you’ll top last year’s present.”
Our tradition of trying to one-up each other’s parties extended to our gifts. Last year, she’d gotten me a custom set of hand-engraved Japanese artisan knives while I’d gifted her a rare, autographed first edition ofJane Eyre, her favorite Brontë novel.
This year…
The small gift box burned a hole in my pocket.
Instead of reaching for it, I tossed out a careless smile. “I got you a Delamonte gift card. Twenty thousand dollars. Spend it wisely.”
