by Maisey Yates
Divya nodded. “It’s great for people who actually want to settle down.”
“Who was the guy you were supposed to marry?”
Divya looked out the window as the jet shuddered, gathering speed in preparation for takeoff.
“Vivek. He’s an NRI, a nonresident Indian as we say in India. He’s a very nice guy…” She trailed off and bit her lip. “But I’m not ready to get married. To anyone. I came to Vegas two months ago to visit my brother. He set me up with Vivek and we started dating. When I went back to India, I thought our affair would fizzle out, but he proposed marriage to my family, which is the proper way of doing things. No one bothered to ask me if I really wanted it. They assumed that I was ready to get on the marriage-and-baby-making train. Arjun and Vivek planned this big Vegas wedding, and my family packed my bags so I could start my married life in America.”
“What’s wrong with marriage and babies?”
“Nothing. If that’s what you want. But I am thirty-two years old and I haven’t done anything with my life. I’ve traveled the world but haven’t really experienced it. I’m a lawyer but I work for my family business doing paperwork. I’ve never lived on my own or done things for myself. I’ve taken singing classes but never really sung to a real audience. I’ve done nothing in my life. There are things I want to do, and if I get married, I’ll never get a chance to do them.”
“Why not? Marriage isn’t a prison.”
“It comes with responsibility and a sense of obligation. Everything becomes about the family,” she said bitterly.
And what’s wrong with that? He had the freedom, money and time to do anything he wanted; it got lonely after a while. All his friends had long since married and he envied their complaints about soccer games, homework and birthday parties. They all had their own families and he didn’t.
The jet nosed into the sky, and Ethan followed Divya’s gaze outside the window as they left Las Vegas and headed into the clouds. Then she turned to him. “I’ve told you my poor-little-rich-girl story. What’s yours?”
He smiled. “Well, this poor little successful billionaire started out with a wonderful family that didn’t have much money but always had love.” Bill had adopted him when he was ten. They’d moved to a new neighborhood and he’d started middle school without anyone knowing that Bill wasn’t his real father. In all the interviews he gave—and answering Divya now—his life story began at age ten. He didn’t miss Wade. Once his mother had married Bill, Ethan had realized what a real father was supposed to be. But he’d always felt like the third wheel in his parents’ marriage. And then his brother had been born.
“I have a younger brother who’s married and has two awesome kids. They live down the street from my parents in Stillwater. It’s a suburb of Minneapolis.” He leaned forward. “I want what they have, but it seems no woman deems me worthy of lifelong commitment.”
Divya raised her brows. “Oh come on! What is it women don’t like? The fact that you’re rich or that you’re handsome?”
“You think I’m handsome?”
A smile played on her lips, and he itched to lean over and kiss her luscious mouth. “You’re not my type, but most women would find you okay-looking.”
“What is your type then? Tall and dark?”
“Maybe,” she said coyly, and a fire licked in his belly at the way her mouth curved. “So what’s wrong with you? Women think you’re a spoilt rich kid?”
He shrugged. “I’ve only been rich for the last few years. Before my company took off, I was an average Joe with a nine-to-five job. Women loved dating me but said I wasn’t the type of guy they’d marry.”
Divya frowned. “Do you have strange habits or crazy fetishes?”
He shrugged. “Not that I know of. Although I do like a bit of adventure in bed.”
She met his gaze. “Most women like a little fun in bed.” Heat rose deep in his core and he had the insane urge to pull her by the loose T-shirt she was wearing and kiss her senseless.
She broke eye contact first. “I’ll figure it out. I’m good at finding out what’s wrong with men.”
“Gee, thanks. There’s nothing wrong with me. I think women don’t know what they want.”
“Or you only go out with women who are unavailable, so you don’t have to commit.”
The comment pulsed through him. “That’s not true. I knew Pooja wanted to settle down and that’s part of what attracted me to her. I asked her to move in after just three months of us being together because I was serious about her.”
“Then, why did she marry someone else?”
“Because I took too long to propose.”
“And why did you do that?”
Why indeed? “I needed a little more time. We’d only been living together for three months and had been dating for a total of six. That’s not enough time to know that you want to spend the rest of your life with someone.”
“Vivek knew in three weeks that he wanted to marry me. He didn’t need more time.”
“But you did.”
“Because I don’t want to get married. To anyone. If I were ready to commit, Vivek would’ve been just fine for me.”
“You were in love with him then?”
“You have to be ready to fall in love. It’s a mindset, and I’m not into it. There is nothing wrong with Vivek. He’s a decent person. He’s kind and intelligent and met all of my criteria for what I’d want in a husband—if I were looking for one.”
“So when you’re ready, you’ll be able to marry anyone who meets your criteria.”
She leaned back in her seat and chewed on her lip, making him lose his train of thought.
“There’s no straight answer to that. My criteria may change in the future. That’s why I don’t want to settle down right now. I don’t feel like I know what I truly want.”
You and most women I meet.
“I am ready for all of it, for love, marriage and children. I thought Pooja was too, but she kept our entire relationship a secret. We never went out in public together because she was afraid someone would post a picture on social media. She refused to introduce me to her family. I had good reason to doubt whether she was as invested in me as I was in her.”
“She did that because she knew that you weren’t going to propose to her. If her family is traditional, they would have exploded at her bringing home an American guy. She can’t go through that kind of upheaval without a commitment from you.”
It was almost exactly what Pooja had said to him. “What more could I do to convince her I was committed? I was going to stop her wedding and marry her today.”
“No, you weren’t.”
How dare you! They’d known each other for a couple of hours, and here she was, challenging him on what he was or was not going to do.
“You might have been willing to stop her wedding, but that’s as far as you were going to go. If you’d really wanted to sweep her off her feet and marry her today, you would’ve proposed to her when you saw her and let her decide how much she really loves her husband. It takes thirty seconds to get an annulment in Vegas. But you were almost relieved that she was happy, like you were off the hook.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I believe in marriage. My parents have been married for almost thirty years and they are so happy together. My brother has been married for nine. He was my best friend until he met his wife. She knows him better than I ever did. She can read his moods, anticipate his needs…” He trailed off. “My parents, and my brother and sister-in-law, are a unit. They’re connected at this deep level, and that’s what I want. I didn’t propose to Pooja because she and I didn’t have that instant understanding and connection, but then I realized that maybe that comes with time.”
Or maybe it’s something I can’t have with a woman. Nearly all the women he’d ever had a serious relationship with had married other men. Perhap
s they could intuit something in Ethan that he couldn’t figure out for himself. Perhaps they smelled his desperation and didn’t like its stench.
Divya leaned forward and placed a hand on his. Her touch was soft and warm, and when he looked into her dark brown eyes, a slow burn flamed its way through his body.
“Maybe you’ve never opened yourself up to a woman so she can really get to know you. We women can tell when men put up barriers, and we don’t like being with men we don’t know and understand.”
He pulled his hand back from hers. “I’m an open book. I’m talking to you, aren’t I?” His tone was harsher than he meant it to be. He smiled. “Maybe it’s easier to talk to you because we don’t know each other.”
She smiled back at him. “I have a talent for getting people to talk. It’s the lawyer in me. If I’d gone into criminal law, I would’ve gotten confessions like this.” She clicked her fingers.
He smiled. Divya really did have a way about her that made him feel at ease.
“Look, I’ve known you for all of two minutes and I can tell you didn’t really want to marry Pooja. You wanted to know if she was willing to marry you.”
Her words made his stomach churn. Divya was wrong. He was no longer the little boy who wanted his mother’s new husband to love him, or the teenager desperate to be cool enough to get noticed by the popular girl.
Kathy knocked on the door, then entered with a tray of hors d’oeuvres and their drinks. They both sat in silence, Divya staring out the window, sipping her wine, while he moved himself to the couch and opened his laptop. He had an excellent management team who handled the day-to-day operations of his company. He’d let them know that he was taking ten days off, but he knew they’d call him if something needed his attention. Checking in on things was a comforting ritual to make himself feel useful. He also issued some instructions to his assistant in the New York office.
He looked at Divya, and as if feeling his gaze, she turned her head to look at him and gave him a smile that tightened his chest. What was it about her? The last thing he needed was to get involved with another woman. This one had declared from the outset that she wasn’t available, yet he couldn’t help but be attracted to her. Why had he taken it upon himself to fly her to New York? He could’ve satisfied his save-the-day complex by giving her the jet and a credit card.
She plopped herself on the seat beside him. He moved over so their knees weren’t touching.
“Look, I’m sorry if I was a shit to you. You’ve been really nice to me. I can’t stop my mouth sometimes. My brothers always tell me that I’m entirely too blunt and I need to temper my remarks.”
“When do you get to the part where you sincerely apologize?”
She gave him an affronted look. “That wasn’t sincere?”
“That was you telling me that you wished you’d sugarcoated what you had to say.”
A smile twitched at her lips. “See what I mean? I can’t stop my mouth.”
Oh boy. Try as he might, he wasn’t annoyed at her. As painful as it might be, she was honest and it was refreshing. But she was sitting too close to him. That intoxicating smell of vanilla and cinnamon was teasing his sensibilities. Her eyes searched his, and he voiced the words that were rolling around in his head but he didn’t want to admit, even to himself.
“I didn’t propose to Pooja because I held our relationship to the same standards as my parents’ and my brother’s and it didn’t measure up. Yesterday I realized that I can wait my whole life for something that may never happen or I can seize the little bit of happiness that’s right in front of me. When we got to the wedding, it was clear that Pooja had found with Anil what I’d been seeking with her.” He’d seen the glittering adoration in Pooja’s eyes and the shining smile on her face. She’d never looked that happy with him.
Divya shifted on the sofa, so her body was angled toward him, her knees now touching his. “I have no right casting stones on you. I had plenty of opportunities to stall my wedding. I did not have to do it in quite so dramatic a fashion. I clearly have my demons too.” Her voice was soft and contrite.
“What demons do you have, Divya?”
She shrugged. “You talked about seizing the little bit of happiness that you can. My whole life has been about letting go of the happiness I want, in order to hold on to the joy I have.” She looked away from him, and the shine in her eyes tugged at his heart.
“Aside from singing at Café Underground, what do you want to do? What’s on your bucket list?”
She shrugged. “I’ve never made a bucket list. What’s the point in wanting something you know you can’t have?”
Her words struck a chord in his heart.
“Well, for the next few days, consider me your magical genie. Make a wish and I’ll try to make it happen.” He grinned. Divya was easy to talk to and maybe she could be the distraction he needed.
She smiled. “You’re serious?”
He nodded.
“I guess I could really use a friend right now. Especially one with a private jet.” She held out her hand.
“And I could use a friend who gives it to me straight.” He smiled and took her hand in his. It was meant to be a handshake, but he found himself holding her hand loosely, his thumb moving across the back of her hand, feeling its softness. Divya’s mouth opened and he stilled, summoning every ounce of willpower he had not to lean over and kiss her. Why wasn’t she pulling away? Was it his imagination or was she leaning even closer? Their mouths were inches apart.
He knew he was being impulsive again but he wanted to feel her soft lips on his, to know whether the earlier kiss that had shot zingers through his body had been real or if he’d been high on adrenaline and imagined the whole thing. He leaned forward.
CHAPTER FOUR
A second before their lips touched, she moved back. What am I doing? She’d almost kissed Ethan. Again. Just a couple of hours ago, she’d been about to take seven sacred circles around the marriage fire with another man. Granted, Vivek wasn’t a man she wanted to marry, but it was a little too soon to get involved with someone like Ethan. Especially Ethan. Divya wasn’t the good Indian girl her parents believed her to be. Without their knowing, she’d dated off the approved list. But Ethan was far beyond the unsuitable category.
Ethan shifted on the sofa so there was more space between them. He turned back to his laptop. An awkward silence settled between them.
He was gora. Not even in her wildest dreams had she thought about dating someone who wasn’t Indian. Her entire identity revolved around her family and culture. What could she possibly have in common with an American? What does it matter? I’m not marrying him. For the first time in her life, she was free of her parents’ watchful eyes. In this moment, she was attracted to him, so what was the harm? There was no chance she’d fall in love with him.
Kathy appeared, saving them from more awkwardness. She asked what they wanted for lunch. Divya suddenly realized she was starving; she hadn’t eaten anything all day. Ethan ordered a burger and she asked for the same.
“You eat beef?” he said, looking surprised, once Kathy had left.
She smiled. “Busted.”
“Pooja didn’t eat beef. She said most Indians, especially Hindus, don’t.”
“That’s true. My parents would die if they knew I’m eating beef. Is it wrong that I love hamburgers? It’s rare to find them in India. McDonald’s serves lamb and chicken burgers.”
He laughed. “I don’t see anything wrong with having your own belief system. I wish Pooja had been more independent. She was always too concerned with pleasing her parents.”
Divya frowned. “What’s wrong with that?”
He held up his hands. “I don’t mean any offense. It’s just that our whole relationship revolved around the fact her parents would never approve of me.”
“Did you try with her parents?”
<
br /> “She never gave me a chance.”
Divya chewed her lip. This was exactly why she had never fantasized about dating a gora. “I can see where Pooja was coming from. In Indian families, everything revolves around the parents’ expectations. That comes with its bad parts, like having to conform to traditions you may not agree with. But there’s also a lot of good. I’ve always felt loved and secure in my home. I’ve never felt loneliness in my life. When we were all on lockdown, it was the best time of our lives. We enjoyed being together. We stayed up playing games and having deep conversations about the silliest topics. None of us got cabin fever. When the lockdown ended, we were all sad that it couldn’t go on longer.” As she said the words, dread spread through her chest. What if they don’t forgive me? “It’s not about pleasing the family, it’s about respecting who they are. It’s a small price for the love and happiness you get in return.”
He held up his hands. “I value that too. I’m very close with my family, and they’ve always been there for me. But they won’t be dictating who I marry.”
“Won’t they?”
He frowned at her. “I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
“Did your family want you to marry Pooja?”
He shrugged. “It had less to do with my family than hers. My parents will accept whoever I choose.”
“Would you be happy marrying someone who wouldn’t get along with your family?”
He frowned, then shrugged. “That’s difficult to answer in the hypothetical.”
Bullshit. But she let it be. You could push someone only so hard into seeing what was right in front of them. Plus, she couldn’t risk pissing him off.
She changed the topic. “Thank you for taking me to New York. I can only imagine how busy you must be.” She gestured toward his laptop.
He shrugged. “Not as busy as I’d like. The business is on autopilot. I hired a great executive team, who in turn hired some great people, and as the business has grown, I’ve become more of a figurehead for important decisions. They do the day-to-day.”