Page 8 of Every Move You Make
“Hello, Shauna,” he murmured, her name shaped carefully on his tongue.
Her heart tripped—actually stumbled—before picking up speed. Heat bloomed beneath her skin. No one else ever said her name the way he did, splitting it into two deliberate syllables and lingering on the second. Yet there was always a softness to it, a careful restraint. It felt like a promise and a question all at once. Bloody hell, she was behaving like an idiot. But then, she’d always been an idiot about him since the first time she’d methim. And years later, that night in Singapore was further proof of her idiocy.
“Hi,” she replied stiffly.
His gaze drifted slowly over her face. Lingered on her eyes. Her mouth. And then, just for a beat too long, settled on her lips.
He tilted his head. “It’s been a long time.”
“Not long enough,” she muttered, refusing to admit even to herself that his presence was… distracting. Overwhelming.
He laughed under his breath, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Still feisty as ever. Such a wildcat.”
Her lips curved in warning. “My claws have only sharpened. Be careful.”
“I’m always on my toes around you,” he replied, his gaze darkening. “You’re dangerous.”
She arched a brow. “Dangerous?”
“Yes.” His voice dropped, warm and deliberate. “You always have been.”
Her brow knitted together. “Why?”
He stared at her, refusing to reply. Something hot and intense passed between them, sharp enough to make her breath hitch. Around them, the night carried on. Conversations flowed, glasses clinked, and laughter rang through the air. But here she was, feeling trapped by his gaze and his words. Why did she even care what he said or didn’t say? He didn’t matter to her. She hated him, remember?
From the corner of her eye, she found Sameer had risen and moved to chat with Aditya and Sabrina.
She pushed back her chair, ready to leave, when Akash’s loud bark of laughter halted her.
“Running away?” he asked. “Again? So soon?”
She leaned forward, glaring at him. “Don’t think too highly of yourself. You’d have to matter to me for me to run away from you. And the fact is, you don’t.”
“Really?” he asked, looking affronted. “I don’t matter. Not even a teeny bit?”
She rolled her eyes. “You matter to me as much as the pebble stuck inside my shoe. Annoying, irrelevant, and easily dealt with.”
He threw his head back and laughed, the sound rich and throaty. She refused to accept that his laughter affected her because that would be stupid. Absolutely stupid. And it would be even more stupid to stare at the ink swirling slightly above the collar of his shirt. She wasn’t going to think about it. No way.
She made a move to rise again when he said, “See, you are running away from me. There was a time when you used to love putting me in my place, but now it seems you just want to flee. I wonder why.”
She did want to flee. Because being close to him made her feel too much. Made her remember too much. Months of distance hadn’t dulled a thing. Her heartbeat was still tripping, her skin was still burning, and her body was still responding to his nearness as if it knew him far better than it should.But she’d never give him the pleasure of knowing he unsettled her so much.
“Duh,” Shauna said sweetly. “Don’t think so hard. It will hurt your brain. The answer is simple.” She leaned closer to him, catching a whiff of his sexy perfume. Ignoring it, she said, “I realized much too late that you’re not worth the effort.”
“I suppose that realization came after you and I…”
She pinched his thigh, looking around. Thankfully, no one was paying any attention to them. Still, how dare he try to bring up that night here? Apart from Sabrina and Aditya, no one around this table knew about it. She hadn’t even confided in her twin, Rhea, or her best friend, Jiya.
“Don’t talk aboutthatnight,” she gritted out quietly.
Laughter danced in his eyes as he moved her hand away, his fingers lingering on hers for a second too long.
“You didn’t let me finish,” he said calmly. “I was saying: I suppose that realization came after you and I stopped crossing paths. Six months of zero interaction tends to change things.”
Her scowl deepened.
“But,” he added, his voice dipping, sounding unmistakably amused, “I do find it fascinating that your mind wentthere. Tothatnight. I’m glad to know you haven’t forgotten it… or me.”
