Rebel Hard
Page 11
* * *
Raj kept his face civil and pleasant through sheer force of will, while inside, his emotions rocketed from one extreme to another. He’d walked into the room determined to be honest and ensure he didn’t create an unintended victim to his decision to not meet anyone until he’d tracked down the temptress who’d left him high and dry on Saturday night.
He’d known she was all wrong for him the instant she’d told him she was a chartered accountant. A woman that qualified wouldn’t want to be a homemaker, wouldn’t want to be the kind of wife Raj had always envisioned having. But he hadn’t been able to pull away from her and the sweet passion of her kiss, the way she’d touched him as if he was her favorite treat in all the world.
He didn’t know her, but he’d wanted to—there’d been a spark of something between them that niggled at him. Pulling the plug on his parents’ search to find him a wife hadn’t even been a question after that point. He’d been determined to find his infuriating mystery woman and… Raj hadn’t known what he was going to do to Nayna, but he’d known he had to answer the question of whether his reaction to her had been nothing but lust… or more. He was too honest to lead on other women while obsessed with one who’d only wanted him for his body.
Fate sure had a warped sense of humor.
His gut clenched… and his cock threatened to twitch. Fuck. He might remain furious with Nayna, but he wanted her as badly as he had that night. A single look at her, a single whisper of her scent reaching him across the room, and he had to fight the urge to haul her into his arms and slam his mouth down over hers.
“Yes, I enjoy my work,” he said, having somehow managed to keep track of the conversation though his eyes wanted to lock onto the door through which his sneaky little rabbit had disappeared. “I grew up learning to build with Dad, and I’ve never wanted to do anything else.”
Mr. Sharma, who’d apparently become friendly with Raj’s father after running into him at a regional soccer game, smiled. “It’s a big responsibility to run such a large company. Your parents are justifiably proud of you.”
Raj was well aware his status as the company boss was the only reason he was considered an acceptable match for their accountant daughter. He wasn’t insulted. That was the way things were—parents tried to match up their kids on multiple levels, including their work. When a cousin of his, a dentist, had gone the arranged-marriage route, his introductions had been mostly to nurses, pharmacists, other dentists, and scientists. Funnily enough, it had been the rogue pick—a lawyer—who’d stolen his heart.
The two were sickeningly happy together. Their happiness was another reason Raj had decided to let his parents have a shot at setting him up with women. But he’d been very open with them from the start—he’d marry the woman he chose and that was nonnegotiable. Raj had no intention of ending up unwanted and unloved ever again. Of course, his folks seemed to have gone totally off script with this introduction.
Not that Raj was complaining: they’d done him a favor. Otherwise, he’d planned to ask Tara about the sexy woman in the skintight dress who’d been a guest at her party. The woman who’d caused him more than one sleepless night and probably a few layers of tooth enamel from the way he gritted his teeth every time he thought about her last words to him at the party.
“Oh, he was running things when he was barely twenty-three,” his father said jovially with a slap to his knee. “Got the business brain.” A tap to his temple. “My side of the family.”
Raj’s heart ached. Never once had Jitesh Sen made him feel any less his son for being adopted. If Raj’s father had his way, the subject would never come up, but Raj had run across families to whom it did matter that he didn’t know his bloodline, or birth date and time, and never would.
Those people believed in matching horoscopes, and Raj’s birthdate was approximate. The doctors had estimated him to be four when he was left at the orphanage. Old enough to remember he’d been half-starved and not wanted even a little bit. Old enough to remember the kicks and the cold and the disdain. The last thing he’d accept was to be introduced to a woman who looked down her nose at him and his family.
Which was why he’d made his parents promise that before they went to any introductory meetings, they’d mention his adoption. He would not have his family hurt by someone with an antiquated sense of custom and ritual.
“This family cares only that you’re a good son, and of course about your achievements,” his father had crowed in the car on the way over. “None of this horoscope-schoroscope nonsense.”
“The girl does have a good job,” his mother had thrown in. “But the parents are so lovely, and you never know, it could work like it did with your father and me. Working together on the business.”
Raj, caught off guard and only coming along to the meeting so his parents wouldn’t lose face, had barely been paying attention at the time. He continued to have trouble with his ability to be present. Where the hell was Nayna?
“And he looks after his little sister so well,” his mother was saying now, both parents in full boasting mode. “Especially the times when we go to stay in Fiji. Our younger son, Navin, and his wife are there too, but Raj is the head of the family while we’re away and the one they all come to.”
Navin and his wife could try Raj’s nerves, but his younger sister, Aditi, didn’t need much looking after—she was seventeen and clever as a cat. But she was also the baby of the family and knew Raj would lay down his life to protect her. As a result, she didn’t try to run rings around him. Though he was beginning to worry about the text messages she’d been getting recently that caused her to look a little guilty.
The kitchen door finally swung open, Nayna walking through with a tea tray, her head demurely lowered. Raj scowled while everyone was distracted looking at her. What was she playing at? Yes, she was a little shy—she’d been honestly flustered at the party, especially when he teased her—but she’d also had a quiet confidence that was a glow pulling him into her orbit. No way was she the demure, lowered-head type.
And what in all that was holy was she wearing? The pink monstrosity was a muumuu on her sweet little body. The only thing he liked about her look were the black-framed glasses perched on her nose. He could see her wearing those and nothing else.
He shifted on the couch, telling his mind to end that line of thinking. Now.
“Nayna, beta.” Her grandmother, dressed in a soft white sari, smiled at Nayna as she set down the tray, before the plump elderly lady turned to Raj’s family. “My granddaughter makes the best tea,” she said in pure Hindi, untainted by slang.
Raj’s own paternal grandparents spoke the same way. They were currently in Taupo, visiting with his uncle’s family, or they’d have quizzed him about tonight’s meeting the instant he got home. Set in their beliefs, his aji and aja still scowled at the idea that the younger son had married before the older and couldn’t wait for him to get hitched so that things would be back in balance.
“Our daughter is a good girl,” Gaurav Sharma added. “Dedicated to her studies at university, graduated top of her class. And look at her now—she deals with small businesses valued up to a quarter of a million dollars.”
Raj kept his face civil and pleasant through sheer force of will, while inside, his emotions rocketed from one extreme to another. He’d walked into the room determined to be honest and ensure he didn’t create an unintended victim to his decision to not meet anyone until he’d tracked down the temptress who’d left him high and dry on Saturday night.
He’d known she was all wrong for him the instant she’d told him she was a chartered accountant. A woman that qualified wouldn’t want to be a homemaker, wouldn’t want to be the kind of wife Raj had always envisioned having. But he hadn’t been able to pull away from her and the sweet passion of her kiss, the way she’d touched him as if he was her favorite treat in all the world.
He didn’t know her, but he’d wanted to—there’d been a spark of something between them that niggled at him. Pulling the plug on his parents’ search to find him a wife hadn’t even been a question after that point. He’d been determined to find his infuriating mystery woman and… Raj hadn’t known what he was going to do to Nayna, but he’d known he had to answer the question of whether his reaction to her had been nothing but lust… or more. He was too honest to lead on other women while obsessed with one who’d only wanted him for his body.
Fate sure had a warped sense of humor.
His gut clenched… and his cock threatened to twitch. Fuck. He might remain furious with Nayna, but he wanted her as badly as he had that night. A single look at her, a single whisper of her scent reaching him across the room, and he had to fight the urge to haul her into his arms and slam his mouth down over hers.
“Yes, I enjoy my work,” he said, having somehow managed to keep track of the conversation though his eyes wanted to lock onto the door through which his sneaky little rabbit had disappeared. “I grew up learning to build with Dad, and I’ve never wanted to do anything else.”
Mr. Sharma, who’d apparently become friendly with Raj’s father after running into him at a regional soccer game, smiled. “It’s a big responsibility to run such a large company. Your parents are justifiably proud of you.”
Raj was well aware his status as the company boss was the only reason he was considered an acceptable match for their accountant daughter. He wasn’t insulted. That was the way things were—parents tried to match up their kids on multiple levels, including their work. When a cousin of his, a dentist, had gone the arranged-marriage route, his introductions had been mostly to nurses, pharmacists, other dentists, and scientists. Funnily enough, it had been the rogue pick—a lawyer—who’d stolen his heart.
The two were sickeningly happy together. Their happiness was another reason Raj had decided to let his parents have a shot at setting him up with women. But he’d been very open with them from the start—he’d marry the woman he chose and that was nonnegotiable. Raj had no intention of ending up unwanted and unloved ever again. Of course, his folks seemed to have gone totally off script with this introduction.
Not that Raj was complaining: they’d done him a favor. Otherwise, he’d planned to ask Tara about the sexy woman in the skintight dress who’d been a guest at her party. The woman who’d caused him more than one sleepless night and probably a few layers of tooth enamel from the way he gritted his teeth every time he thought about her last words to him at the party.
“Oh, he was running things when he was barely twenty-three,” his father said jovially with a slap to his knee. “Got the business brain.” A tap to his temple. “My side of the family.”
Raj’s heart ached. Never once had Jitesh Sen made him feel any less his son for being adopted. If Raj’s father had his way, the subject would never come up, but Raj had run across families to whom it did matter that he didn’t know his bloodline, or birth date and time, and never would.
Those people believed in matching horoscopes, and Raj’s birthdate was approximate. The doctors had estimated him to be four when he was left at the orphanage. Old enough to remember he’d been half-starved and not wanted even a little bit. Old enough to remember the kicks and the cold and the disdain. The last thing he’d accept was to be introduced to a woman who looked down her nose at him and his family.
Which was why he’d made his parents promise that before they went to any introductory meetings, they’d mention his adoption. He would not have his family hurt by someone with an antiquated sense of custom and ritual.
“This family cares only that you’re a good son, and of course about your achievements,” his father had crowed in the car on the way over. “None of this horoscope-schoroscope nonsense.”
“The girl does have a good job,” his mother had thrown in. “But the parents are so lovely, and you never know, it could work like it did with your father and me. Working together on the business.”
Raj, caught off guard and only coming along to the meeting so his parents wouldn’t lose face, had barely been paying attention at the time. He continued to have trouble with his ability to be present. Where the hell was Nayna?
“And he looks after his little sister so well,” his mother was saying now, both parents in full boasting mode. “Especially the times when we go to stay in Fiji. Our younger son, Navin, and his wife are there too, but Raj is the head of the family while we’re away and the one they all come to.”
Navin and his wife could try Raj’s nerves, but his younger sister, Aditi, didn’t need much looking after—she was seventeen and clever as a cat. But she was also the baby of the family and knew Raj would lay down his life to protect her. As a result, she didn’t try to run rings around him. Though he was beginning to worry about the text messages she’d been getting recently that caused her to look a little guilty.
The kitchen door finally swung open, Nayna walking through with a tea tray, her head demurely lowered. Raj scowled while everyone was distracted looking at her. What was she playing at? Yes, she was a little shy—she’d been honestly flustered at the party, especially when he teased her—but she’d also had a quiet confidence that was a glow pulling him into her orbit. No way was she the demure, lowered-head type.
And what in all that was holy was she wearing? The pink monstrosity was a muumuu on her sweet little body. The only thing he liked about her look were the black-framed glasses perched on her nose. He could see her wearing those and nothing else.
He shifted on the couch, telling his mind to end that line of thinking. Now.
“Nayna, beta.” Her grandmother, dressed in a soft white sari, smiled at Nayna as she set down the tray, before the plump elderly lady turned to Raj’s family. “My granddaughter makes the best tea,” she said in pure Hindi, untainted by slang.
Raj’s own paternal grandparents spoke the same way. They were currently in Taupo, visiting with his uncle’s family, or they’d have quizzed him about tonight’s meeting the instant he got home. Set in their beliefs, his aji and aja still scowled at the idea that the younger son had married before the older and couldn’t wait for him to get hitched so that things would be back in balance.
“Our daughter is a good girl,” Gaurav Sharma added. “Dedicated to her studies at university, graduated top of her class. And look at her now—she deals with small businesses valued up to a quarter of a million dollars.”
