Page 40 of The Defiant Wife

My breath catches. His probably doesn't. The man would remain calm during the apocalypse.

He tilts his head slightly. Examining the situation. Or maybe examining me. I don't know. And I definitely don't want to know. Because both possibilities are equally dangerous.

His fingers work at the clasp beneath my chin. The touch is brief. Practical. Yet somehow it feels like the opposite. The strap finally loosens. I should step back. Instead I stay frozen. Like an idiot. Then his eyes drift upward. Toward my hair.

A long silence follows. His expression remains unreadable. Which means he's about to say something irritating.

I know it.

I feel it.

Sure enough—he grips the helmet gently and pulls me half a step closer. Not enough to touch. Enough to ruin my entire evening. His nose almost brushes mine. My heart launches itself directly into my throat.

And then he whispers, "Terrifying."

I blink. "What?"

His gaze remains locked on mine. "The local wildlife is going to think a lion escaped."

For a full second I simply stare at him. Then the meaning registers. My hand flies toward my hair. "Oh my God."

He releases the helmet. Completely unrepentant.

"My hair is regal, you giant oaf!" The words explode out of me.

Veeraj actually looks mildly pleased with himself. Mildly pleased. Like tormenting me was on today's checklist.

I immediately shove the helmet into his chest. Hard. He catches it effortlessly. Unfortunately.

"You are impossible."

"So I've been told."

"You are arrogant."

"Mhm."

"You are rude."

"Frequently."

"You are—" I stop. Because he looks entirely too entertained. Not smiling. But definitely entertained. Which is somehow worse.

I point an accusing finger at him. "You know what? I don't even have the energy to deal with you."

"Clearly."

I gasp again. One day I'm going to commit a crime. A very specific crime. Against a very specific prince.

Veeraj places the helmet on his bike. Then finally looks back at me as he leans against the bike. The amusement fades. Something softer replaces it. Only for a second. Barely long enough for me to notice.

"Go inside."

The words are quiet. Simple. Yet somehow they settle somewhere strange inside my chest. I cross my arms. Still annoyed. Still flustered. Still far too aware of him.

"You're very bossy."

"And you're very stubborn."