Page 23 of Every Move You Make
Shauna frowned slightly at that, the words sitting oddly in her mind. What did that mean? What destiny? But before she could ponder on that, Keya suddenly appeared beside them, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Alright, that’s enough standing around and talking,” Keya declared, looking between the two of them. “You two have done plenty of that already. Now it’s time to dance.”
Before either of them could protest, she grabbed each of their hands and tugged them toward the dance floor. The DJ switched to a trending Bollywood number that had several people already moving across the floor.
Her brother, Rishi, caught her hand just as she reached the dance floor. He bumped his hip to hers, clearly enjoying himself. She started to sway with him.
“Where’s Mehak?” she asked.
“My wife has gone to check on our baby girl,” Rishi said. “Dance with me until she returns.”
Rishi exaggerated a dramatic dance move, and she laughed. She fell into step with him, matching his moves with ease. Smiling, she glanced to the side, her gaze drifting toward Akash. He was dancing with Keya, but his eyes were on her. And the look in them made her pulse skip just a little.
As the final beats of the song faded, the DJ seamlessly switched tracks. Another popular Bollywood dance number burst through the speakers, the change in tempo instantly lifting the energy on the floor.
Armaan caught Akash by the arm and pulled him toward the center of the dance floor. Akash laughed but went with him, already falling into the beat as the two of them began dancing together. Within seconds, they were moving to the rhythm ofthe song, laughing as they kept up with the fast pace. The crowd naturally shifted around them, giving them space.
Akash looked completely at ease as he moved to the music. There was something effortless about the way he followed the rhythm, every movement perfectly timed with the beat. She hadn’t realized when she’d stopped dancing and simply stood there watching him.
As the song changed, couples began to move back together on the dance floor. Armaan’s wife reached them, pulling him away as they both began dancing together. On her side, Mehak had returned and was already dancing with Rishi again.
Akash stepped away from the center and slowly drifted across the dance floor toward her. She barely had time to react before his hand settled at her waist and he pulled her closer. She placed a hand lightly on his shoulder, aware of the heat radiating from him even through the fabric of his shirt.
A feeling of absolute rightness settled in her chest, confusing her. Her body moved almost instinctively, completely in sync with his, as though they had done this countless times before, even though that wasn’t the case.
His hand tightened slightly at her waist as he turned her smoothly, the movement bringing her back against him for a brief second before she faced him again. The proximity sent an unwanted awareness through her.
Her heart stumbled and then began to race.
Suddenly, she became acutely conscious of how close they were. A memory struck her without warning. Of Singapore, and how close they’d stood that night. How easily he had stepped into her space, the same quiet intensity in his gaze, the same pull she had never quite been able to resist.
And now, they were standing just like that again.
Her pulse hammered in her ears. Her emotions tangled into something she couldn’t sort through—confusion, anger, something dangerously close to longing.
Her eyes lifted to his. And froze.
The look in Akash’s eyes was too intense. Too focused. It felt like standing too close to a flame. Suddenly, it was all too much. The feelings he stirred in her. The memories he dragged back to the surface. The painful reminder that he had hurt her once before and could do it again just as easily.
A shaky breath escaped her lips. God. She couldn’t do this. Not again.
Without another word, she stepped back abruptly. Then she turned and hurried out of the hall.
6
The music and laughter faded behind him as he followed her. He told himself he shouldn’t. Every rational instinct told him to stop right there and leave her alone. So why the hell was he still following her? What was it about this one woman that made him behave in ways he never had before? Why was Shauna Sehgal the only woman who could set his blood on fire with nothing more than a glance?
Dancing with her minutes ago, holding her close, breathing in the faint, intoxicating scent of her perfume, had sent a dangerous rush through him. And then seeing her eyes darken with heat as they landed on him had ignited something inside him.
She’d run almost instantly. And he’d followed immediately.
Shauna had never been the type to run from him. She’d always stood her ground, matching him word for word, challenge for challenge. But after Singapore, each time things between them began to tip into dangerous territory, she ran. Which made him wonder if this relentless pull between them wasn’t one-sided after all. Perhaps she had been feeling exactly what he had been feeling all these months.
That night in Singapore had changed something between them. He had hoped moving to Dubai would erase her from his mind. Erase that night from his mind. It hadn’t. Not even close. And now, the way she looked at him sometimes, the way she ran whenever they got too close… he was beginning to believe it had changed things for her too.
Or maybe he was fooling himself.
He exhaled harshly. After everything she’d said to him last night, he ought to turn around and return to the party. And yet, like an utter moron, he was following her. Like a fool, he always craved a reaction from her.
