If her love for him had been true, if she’d never chosen his father’s money over him, they would have been high school sweethearts who’d be an old, married couple by now. Their fights wouldn’t have been about heartbreak; they would have been because he left a wet towel on the bed, or that she paid more attention to the kids than him.
He’d have looked forward to going home to a wife he adored and children who kept them busy. Even in the short year they’d been together, he’d imagined a dark-haired little girl with cat eyes, in the spitting image of her mother, who called him Papa.
Thatwould have been their story.
Instead, he was standing in his apartment, watching her gather her purse and phone, ready to wipe all evidence of her time with him. As if every emotion left between them was superficial.
She let him touch her body, but not her heart. And that was no longer enough.
The part of him that had rung hollow and empty for so long finally felt a little full in her presence. Every time he held Vera, when they bantered or butt heads, those intermittent moments when her animosity faded—it had begun to heal him. New threads of connection had been woven and he had no intention of breaking them off again.
“Things have changed for me. This isn’t working anymore.”
Her gaze flew to his, shocked. “You. . . don’t want to sleep with me anymore?”
He almost burst out laughing. As if he’d want anyone else. He shook his head, his expression making it clear how absurd her assumption was. “I want us to be exclusive, Vera.”
She spun on her heel to face him, her brows knitted, the line in her forehead deepening into a frown that made Vihaan want to massage it away. “You told me you weren’t getting together with other women. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve either been at work,or spending my evenings with you, which means I haven’t been with anyone else either. That sounds pretty exclusive to me.”
Gripping her chin firmly, he let his thumb trace her lush bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to replace his finger with his mouth.
“I’m not talking about sex,” he huskily admitted. “Don’t misunderstand me. Sex with you is mind-blowing. Always has been. But I want more.”
“M-more?”
“I want to take you on a date, pick you up from your place, bring you flowers, see you dressed for me, send you messages that make you blush.” His gaze darkened, focusing on her mouth when her tongue darted out to lick her dry lips. “I want to hold you in the daylight, not just under the cover of darkness. Kiss you without these rules you’ve put in place. I want you to tell people that I am your boyfriend, that you’re my girlfriend. I want more. I want it all. Simple.”
“Nothing about us is simple.” Even as she denied it, her eyes were soft on him, nervously picking at her dress. “We have history and you—you’re. . . my boss,” she said weakly, making him chuckle. She cracked a smile at the same time, as if she too agreed that her reason was silly.
An overwhelming sort of affection for this woman rushed at him and he teased her. “Which boss lets his employee talk back to him like you do with me? From the first moment I saw you in that dark boardroom, this was inevitable. You’ve never beenjustan employee, and I have never beenjustyour boss.”
“But you’re right,” he added. “We do have history we need to clear. I’ll even take the first step.”
“The first step in what?” she asked.
“In forgiving you. Which I do. I forgive you.”
The silence that grew between them was delicate enough to be broken by the flutter of a butterfly wing. Vihaan watched a myriad of emotions flash across Vera’s pretty face, her smile fading with everytick of the clock. When she finally met his gaze, all that remained was incredulity.
“Youforgiveme?“ she asked, her voice awful and hollow.
“I do. I will not hold the past against you. The slate is wiped clean on my end. Let’s move ahead.”
To his consternation, instead of being convinced by his words and sincerity, Vera drew away.
“I should go.”
He followed her out into the living room, gripping her hand before she escaped. “Listen! I want to do this right. Date you, have you stay a full night with me, share my bed for more than just sex, maybe live togeth—”
“No!” she almost yelled, ripping her arm away from him.
Vihaan’s jaw clenched, her rejection piercing him. “You haven’t even heard me out.”
“No,” she reiterated firmly. “This was a mistake.”
“What was?”
“This. Whatever—” She angrily gestured to the space between them. “It was just. . . sex.”