17. Rule One of Kidnapping
RULE ONE OF KIDNAPPING
DEEPIKA
The way Liam looked at me made me want to close the distance between us.
But before I could, the balcony door opened behind us. Laughter and music spilled out, a reminder that we were surrounded by people who thought we were a happy couple instead of two people who couldn’t decide if they wanted to kill each other or fuck each other senseless.
I stepped back, creating space and breaking whatever spell had been building between us.
“We should go back inside,” I said.
“Yeah.”
Liam didn’t meet my eyes.
And that was… it.
Someone was going to die for pounding on my apartment door at nine in the morning.
I groaned, facedown in my pillow, body screaming in protest. The shoot had gone on until three in the morning because Yash kept flubbing his lines. Take after take after take, and I had to stand there, pretending to be in love with him while wanting to throttle him.
After we had wrapped up, he looked at my engagement ring and laughed. “Looks a bit cheap, doesn’t it? I would have gotten you something better.”
“This is my grandma’s ring, you jerk,” I snapped back before I could stop myself. “Liam knows me better than you ever did in our entire relationship.”
The words had hung in the air as I left him gaping at me. Because I had never talked to him like that until then.
And now someone was still knocking, and I was going to commit murder.
I stumbled out of bed, wearing my banana-print pajama pants and a thin tank top, my hair wrapped in a silk bonnet.
I yanked open the door.
Liam stood there, looking annoyingly handsome in sunglasses and a fitted t-shirt that showed off his arms. He pushed past me without waiting for an invitation.
“Cute pajamas.”
“What the hell are you—”
He whistled, already prowling through my apartment, picking up my teacup collection and examining the vintage convertible keys I kept on a hook but never used.
“Liam! What are you doing here?”
He turned, grinning. “Did you read the contract?”
I blinked, brain still foggy from exhaustion. “Yes?”
“Did you sign it?”
“Yes, but what’s that got to do with you—”
“Good,” he said, kissing my forehead and then bent down. “I’m legally kidnapping you.”
Before I could process the words, he lifted me over his shoulder in one smooth move.
“LIAM! PUT ME DOWN!”
He didn’t. He just walked toward the door, my body bouncing with each step, his hand firm on the back of my thighs.
“This is an assault! This is—ugh, put me DOWN! NOW!”
He started down the stairs since the elevator had broken again, and I smacked his back repeatedly. All I was met with was strong, solid muscle, and he didn’t even budge once.
Fuck him and his fuck-ass swimmer build!
“I’m calling the police!”
“And tell them what? That your fiancé picked you up?”
I pinched his ass. Hard.
He stopped and finally, he was going to put me down—
He pinched my ass.
“Ow!”
“Don’t start what you can’t finish, Sharma.”
Damn him and his broad swimmer’s shoulders!
We made it to the street, and the moment he set me down, my stomach lurched violently. I stumbled toward the nearest bush and threw up.
Liam winced, immediately at my side, one hand rubbing my back. “Shit. Sorry. I should have—a-are you okay?”
I glared at him through watery eyes.
He pulled a water bottle from his car, handed it to me. I rinsed my mouth and let him guide me into the passenger seat because I was too tired and nauseous to fight anymore.
Once inside, I buckled my seatbelt and turned to him. “You have ten seconds to explain what the fuck you’re doing before I actually call the cops.”
“One of the clauses in our contract says we have to live together during our relationship. So, you’re moving in with me.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Clause seventeen. Cohabitation for authenticity.”
“But my lease—”
“I took care of it.”
“Blake never told me about this stupid clause—”
“Stupid?” He scoffed. “Have you seen your apartment? The mold? The AC unit held up by duct tape? The elevator that breaks every other week?” He started the car. “I’m offering you a million-dollar mansion with working appliances without any health code violations. You’re welcome.”
If he thought I was going to swoon over him and thank him for it, he was a bigger idiot that I thought he would be.
I didn’t reply. Just crossed my arms and stared out the window as he pulled into traffic.
He cleared his throat, reached into the backseat, and tossed a jacket into my lap.
I frowned, and he gestured vaguely at my chest, not looking.
I looked down. My nipples were visible through my thin tank top, peaked from the AC.
“Awesome,” I said, shrugging into the jacket, face burning. “You could have said something earlier!”
“I just did.”
“Before you kidnapped me!”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
I ignored him for the rest of the drive.
His mansion was in the Hollywood Hills, and it looked sleek and modern. All glass and clean lines and a view that probably cost more than my entire apartment building.
We pulled into the garage, and I was already unbuckling.
“Where’s my room?”
“Upstairs,” he said. “Second door on the left.”
I stormed off without looking back, barely registering the expensive art on the walls, the floor-to-ceiling windows, or the kitchen that looked like something from a cooking show.
The bedroom was huge, with a king-size bed, an attached bathroom, and a walk-in closet.
I locked myself in the bathroom.
There were soft towels with expensive skincare and curly hair products, and the brands seemed familiar because these were the products I used. The exact shampoo and conditioner I bought in India.
I’m not sure how he found out and how closely he noticed small things about me.
It was a bit too much. His sports car, his mansion, his… care.
I turned on the shower, stripped, and stood under the hot water until my muscles unclenched and my thoughts stopped spiraling.
When I finally stepped out, wrapped in a towel, I found Liam in my bedroom.
He placed clothes on the bed and then stood back. Keeping his hands on his hips, he shook his head and moved the clothes to the other side. He hummed, tilting his head as if he were arranging a museum exhibit.
“What are you doing?”
He jumped, turned around, and froze.
His eyes raked down my body, taking in the towel, my wet hair dripping onto my shoulders, the water still beading on my skin.
His eyes went dark, but he looked away and cleared his throat. “I got you some clothes.”
“Okay.”
Thick tension filled the space between us.
The shower had helped dissipate my anger and annoyance. But now there was this small feeling that had been building since the pool party, since the balcony.
“What?” I said, moving closer. “You want me to give you a show while I change?”
He laughed, and the sound of it was low and rough. “I wouldn’t mind.”
I was exhausted and didn’t have the energy to banter with him and give him what he wanted.
I walked past him and said, “Fine then. Watch.”
I let the towel drop.
The air crackled with tension as I felt his gaze on me like a physical touch, burning across my shoulders, down my spine, and lingering on my ass as I bent to pick up the shorts he had left.
I pulled them on and then the loose t-shirt.
When I looked over my shoulder, his eyes were still pinned to my ass.
“Pervert.”
His voice came out strained. “You let me watch, so—”
“So what? You think that gives you permission to ogle?”
“You invited me to ogle.”
“I did not!”
“You literally said, fine then, watch.”
“That was…that was—” I said. “You’re twisting my words!”
“I’m repeating them verbatim.”
We were shouting now, face to face, and close enough that I could see the flecks of silver in his gray eyes, could smell his cologne mixed with chlorine.
“You’re impossible!”
“You’re infuriating!”
“I hate you!”
“The feeling’s mutual, Sharma!”
The tension shifted, and anger bled into something familiar, my heart rate increased.
His eyes dropped to my mouth, and my stomach growled.
The moment shattered as I pursed my lips.
Liam blinked and stepped back.
“I’m sorry,” he said, grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the door. “I should have fed you before kidnapping you. That’s like... rule one of kidnapping.”
“You have rules?” I asked, letting him drag me wherever he went. I glanced at our entwined hands and smiled. We were shouting at each other seconds ago.
“I’m making them up as I go.”
Despite everything, I laughed.