Chapter 12
Sabrina stood in front of the mirror, smoothing her hands over the blue strapless dress that hugged her curves and flowed down to her knees.
She studied her reflection—soft waves framed her face, bold liner accentuated her eyes, a flush of color gave life to her cheeks, and a nude lipstick completed her look.
She looked different. Beautiful. For the first time in a long while, she was liking what she saw in the mirror.
Her heart thudded with nerves and anticipation. Oh God, she was actually doing this. She was going on a date with… Aditya. Fuck. Never in her life had she even allowed herself to dream of this scenario. Never had she imagined going on a date with a man and dressing up for him.
Her phone buzzed with a message from him.
Aditya
I’m outside. Come down, beautiful.
Grabbing her purse, Sabrina stepped out of the room. Shauna was waiting in the hall.
Sabrina gave her a nervous smile. “He’s here. I have to go.”
“On time. Nice. I like punctual men.”
“Stop promoting him,” Sabrina scolded. “It’s just one date, Shauna.”
“We’ll see,” Shauna said with a teasing smile. “You look beautiful. Go knock him out.”
Sabrina left with a quick wave. She stepped into the elevator, and her pulse picked up speed with each descending floor. When the doors opened to the lobby, she took a deep breath and stepped out.
And then, she saw him.
Leaning against a bright yellow Lamborghini, Aditya looked like he’d stepped straight out of a fashion campaign.
His black jacket molded fabulously over his shoulders.
Worn over a slate-gray shirt and well-tailored black trousers, hair slightly mussed, and his jaw clean, he looked fabulous.
His eyes locked with hers, darkening with heat as he drank her in.
Her steps faltered under the raw intensity of that look.
But then, a quiet rush of confidence settled inside her.
He looked like that because of her, for her.
She was the reason his gaze had turned molten.
She walked boldly toward him, her heart racing.
He leaned in and kissed her cheek, the soft brush of his lips sending tremors skittering down her spine.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured. “All this effort—just for me?”
“You wish,” she said playfully. “Maybe I just like dressing up…”
He placed a dramatic hand over his chest. “You slay me. How will my poor heart ever survive you?”
She patted his cheek. “You’ll live. You don’t seem the fragile type.”
“Merciless and stunning. I like it.”
He gave her a crooked grin. Oh, that smile always made her lose her breath. God, it was unfair how easily he got under her skin—how this light banter made her feel far too much.
Her smile lingered, but a war waged inside her.
This was just dinner. A single date. But with him…
it didn’t feel that simple. Because beneath the teasing, the charm, and the ease, she could feel the undercurrent of something far more dangerous.
Something that could take her under if she let it.
She wasn’t sure if she was ready to face that again. Or worse—feel more.
He opened the door for her, and she slid into the car. He climbed in beside her and started the engine, shifting the car into gear. She looked outside the window at the passing view, the silence thick between them.
He tapped the wheel lightly, turning to look at her. “This is awkward.”
She smoothed her dress and exhaled. “Yes, it is.”
“Alright, let’s break the awkwardness. Tell me three things about you, one truth and two lies.”
She frowned. “Meaning?”
“Have you never played this game before?”
“Umm… no.”
“Okay, it’s simple,” he explained, looking at the road ahead. “You tell me three things about yourself. Two of them are lies, and one is the truth. I have to guess which one’s which. Then it’s my turn.”
She arched a brow. “So, a sneaky way to get to know me?”
He grinned. “Exactly. But fun sneaky.”
She gave him a sidelong glance, then shrugged. “Fine. Here goes. I hate chocolate. I’m allergic to seafood. And I once had a pet snake.”
He blinked. “Hmm. I remember that rich, decadent smell of chocolate in the house when I visited earlier. So, definitely not buying the ‘I hate chocolate’ act. But allergic to seafood? That sounds like something you’d say to throw me off. As a chef, I’m pretty sure, you have to taste what you cook.”
He tapped his chin dramatically. “I’m going with… the pet snake thing. That’s the truth.”
She smirked. “Wrong.”
“What? No way.”
“I am allergic to seafood,” she said, suppressing a laugh at his shocked expression. “And snakes, please… I saw Anaconda on TV once. Scarred me for life.”
He chuckled, and then his forehead creased. “Wait, so you’re telling me you don’t taste the seafood you cook?”
“I don’t.”
“And it still comes out delicious?”
“What can I say, Mr. Wahi. I am that good.”
“I’ve had a taste of how good you are,” he said, voice dipping low. “And I’m dying to indulge myself again. Once wasn’t enough.”
Her breath hitched. A shiver ran through her.
“You can’t say things like that…” Her voice sounded breathy to her own ears.
“Why not? It’s the truth. You taste del—”
She slapped a hand over his mouth, shaking her head. He kissed her palm, his tongue swirling around her skin. Her heart fluttered. Goose bumps erupted on her skin.
Moving her hand away, she said, “You’re impossible. You really shouldn’t talk like this.”
“I’m glad I affect you, Sabrina. It means you feel this too, whatever this is that is happening between us two.”
She gulped. “Your turn…”
“I like your attempt to change the subject!” He gave her a cocky smile. “Your flushed cheeks are proof enough for me, though.”
She clucked her tongue.
He raised a hand. “Okay, my turn. I once lost a multimillion-dollar deal because I overslept after a wild night of partying with Rithwik, I hate champagne, and I broke my arm while on a trek.”
She observed him carefully. “Overslept after a wild night of partying with Rithwik, that I can believe. But losing a multimillion-dollar deal, no. You’re too passionate about your work to do that. So that’s clearly a lie.”
Surprise flickered in his eyes. “How do you know I’m passionate about my work?”
“Our friends like to talk about you.”
He smirked. “Which means you like listening when it’s about me, to remember such a detail.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “It means I pay attention.”
“Sure,” he grinned, “Let’s go with that.”
Of course, she’d always paid attention when someone spoke about him.
Except for the time he was with Kanika, she’d made it a point to listen carefully whenever he was mentioned in any conversation.
She’d always noticed him... even when she hadn’t wanted to.
And when he’d been with Kanika, with news of him wanting to settle down… She’d stopped listening then.
She said, “So losing the deal is a lie. Now, about that champagne. I don’t think you hate it. I can imagine you popping champagne bottles after every successful deal. So that is also a lie. Which means, you actually did break your arm on a trek. Am I right?”
He grinned. “Bingo. In college, I went on a trek with Rithwik, the same one where I met Keya and Raashi. I broke my arm on the last day. The girls were a huge support. We’d only just connected during the trek, but they wouldn’t leave my side.
They were so kind and compassionate. That’s what endeared them to me for life. We’ve been friends since.”
“That’s an amazing story. I didn’t know that.”
He gave her a naughty smile. “It’s never come up in all those conversations with our friends? You know the ones where you pay extra attention, listening to anything spoken about me?”
Her lips twitched. “No, it hasn’t.”
This man had such an easy way of breaking through her walls.
The car slowed, and she realized they were pulling up to the restaurant.
She exhaled, trying to steady herself, trying to summon back the defenses she’d come armed with tonight.
Aditya stepped out, came around, and opened her door.
His hand extended to help her out, and the moment their fingers touched, a current zinged through her.
His eyes leapt to hers. She looked away quickly, refusing to acknowledge that sudden burst of energy that had flared between them.
This was just dinner, she reminded herself. A date. One evening before she said no to anything he had to offer, and then she’d walk away from him forever. It was going to be simple. Wasn’t it?