Aarti Raman - Kingdom Come

Ziya took a deep breath as she struggled to handle her anger and embarrassment at having been caught bad-mouthing him. An employee, no less. Which was inexcusable in her book, even though it was all his fault, no doubt.

Noor watched as a host of emotions flitted across her friend’s usually calm face and she said, casually, “He does pack a punch when he opens his mouth.”

Ziya flicked a distracted glance at Noor who was enjoying her second gulab jamun . She came to a decision that had been simmering at the back of her head for a long time, and she placed the ladle on the table carefully. And she wiped her hands on the small dishcloth she wore around the waist of her jeans.

“I have to end this,” she said, mostly to herself.

“Go, Zee.”

But Noor’s encouragement fell on deaf ears as Ziya half-walked, half-ran out the kitchen and down the passage that led to the living room and then out the door, without pausing to grab a jacket against the chilly night. Srinagar had cold nights in spring and tonight was no exception.

Ziya had to run downhill, and it was a mostly easy path but even then she was winded, her breath coming out in gasps that made little white puffs of air as they escaped her lungs. She could see Krivi’s dark form moving ahead, almost at the edge of the fence where the gamekeeper’s cottage began.

She put on a sprint and reached the wooden gate just as he was going to unlatch it. Ziya tapped him on the shoulder; having to reach up to do it since she was not in heels but practical Nikes. Krivi whirled around with dizzying speed, something feral leaping into his eyes that she instantly shrank away from.

“Don’t do that again. Ever,” he ordered her. “I could have punched your lights out.”

Her small chin went up haughtily, the gray eyes flashing stormy. “You could try, boy-o. Who the hell do you think you are?”

He inclined his head and stepped a discreet inch back as her anger and seductive, female scent swirled in a thick condensation around them. Tightening the bubble around them.

“I am the Assistant Manager of Goonj Enterprises. The other stuff’s not important.”

She shoved him back with one hand, and he was so surprised at the gesture that he actually stumbled. She came forward and did it again. But this time, he was prepared so he caught her wrist in one loose hand. When her other wrist came up with a swing, he caught that one too.

All without taking his dark eyes off her furious, beautiful face.

“What are you spitting at me for?”

“Ziya,” she said coldly.

“I beg your pardon?” He restrained her with a simple hold, while she struggled, trying to escape his fingers, his touch and the stupid, insidious heat filling her at her proximity with this insufferable maniac!

“Ziya!” She practically shouted. “My name is Ziya. Learn it, live it. I don’t care what you do outside of the office, or here in Da ’s home, but I am damned if I am going to have you talk to me like I am some small child that needs to be pacified, or worse a woman who doesn’t know what she is doing.”

Her chest was heaving, and because of the way he held her, almost in his embrace, he could feel each movement against his own, suddenly rioting body. He tried to step back again.

“Look—”

“Look, Ziya !” She yelled. “Are you deaf? Or just that cruel? Let go of my hands, you arrogant baboon. I don’t need this from you.”

“Stop moving, please,” he said, in a low voice. His patience strained, his own emotions running up to take the place of the patience.

“I won’t! I am your boss! I am good at what I do and I have lived twenty-nine years without some Neanderthal telling me what to do every five minutes, goddammit. You take your orders from me, Krivi, not the other way. Now let me the hell go.”

Ziya blew a gold-streaked bang off her forehead and glared at him, so mad, so very mad at the casual ease with which he could subdue her and the indifference with which he held her. She was even madder at herself for wanting to talk to him at all, and cursed her wayward hormones to hell and back.

“Ziya—”

“Good.” She smiled, and it was blade-sharp. “Now say it a million times and we won’t have a problem.”

Something snapped. It could have been a twig, could have been the air, or it could be his control which broke free from the restraint of four long years and he dragged her closer and ravaged her mouth.

Ziya was so surprised, shocked out of her wits, that for a single, trembling second she just hung in mid-air, gravity having no pull on her muscles. It was Krivi, his mouth that held her anchored. Then his hands dug into her wrists and she grabbed his hands in return and kissed him back.

Hard.

Using her teeth to bite at his lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. And he groaned as he staggered back, taking her with him. They hit the fence and he released her hands to run restless, rough hands over her shoulders, into the short mop of her hair as he ruthlessly kissed her. And she opened her mouth and let him in to do exactly what she’d ordered him not to. Take over.

But being taken over was a glorious melding of tongues and breath and a scent that could only come from a man who’d faced down death. Taken over meant running her hands over the hard planes of his shoulders, and into his hair. Clutching it hard, desperately as she tried to take the kiss deeper. He bent her back, holding her still by the head, taking a single kiss into depths she hadn’t known existed until she groaned. And only half in pain. They both sprang apart in the same instant.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.