Breathless in Bollywood

by Marsh, Nicola

  “Don’t be so modest, sweetheart. I saw that kiss. It’s on every social media site around the world. Everyone’s talking about you.” Sushma cooed. “I’m thrilled that you’ll succeed where I failed. Well, it was my choice to leave, but the thought of being stuck with a man who was rich and famous yet useless in the bedroom—”

  “Stop it!”

  The last time Desiree yelled at her mother had been a month after Sushma had ditched Voigt at the altar. It had taken her that long to be able to hear her mother’s voice without saying a host of things she’d regret.

  But hearing her mother alternate between slandering Voigt and gush, over what she assumed was a calculated ploy to ensnare Jarryd because of his wealth, made Desiree shake with rage.

  Nausea roiled in her gut and her hand shook as she clutched the cell to her ear.

  “Listen to me because I’m only going to say this once.” Tears of anger burned Desiree’s eyes and she blinked them away, knowing her mother wasn’t worth crying over. Not now. Not ever. “I am nothing like you. I don’t use men for money. I don’t deliberately set out to trap them or break their hearts. I don’t use them then throw them away. Or run away in search of the next billionaire.”

  “Don’t be so melodramatic,” Sushma said, ignoring everything Desiree had said. “Everyone knows Jarryd Baron couldn’t seriously be interested in you, not after what I did to his father. He hates us both. So continue using your body to entrap him for however long he wants to use you and get as much as you can out of him. That’d be my play.”

  Icy rage froze Desiree to the spot as she frantically wracked her brains for more than a scathing comeback. But she came up empty and eventually settled for the cold, hard truth.

  “You think I’m a whore like you?”

  To Desiree’s surprise, Sushma laughed. “We do what we have to do. Smart women use the gifts they’ve been given. You’re lucky to have been blessed with my looks—”

  “Shut the hell up! I don’t want to hear another word of your drivel. Jarryd is a good man, same as his father. Thankfully, I’m nothing like you and I won’t hurt him. He’s honorable and loyal and honest, three things you wouldn’t know the meaning of. And my relationship with him is none of your business, so don’t you dare call me again to offer your putrid opinion, got it?”

  Desiree stabbed at the disconnect button and staggered toward the nearest sofa before her legs gave way. She was shaking so badly the cell slipped from her fingers and landed on the floor. Good. If it broke, she’d have to get a new one, including a new number her mother wouldn’t have.

  For Sushma to ring and gloat, to think Desiree would be baiting Jarryd on purpose…it made her sick to her stomach.

  As she slumped onto the sofa, she heard a footfall and glanced up. Jarryd stood in the doorway to the den.

  By his thunderous expression, he’d heard every word of her damning conversation.

  * * *

  Jarryd hadn’t meant to eavesdrop but the moment Desiree had yelled ‘stop it’, he knew the conversation she was having was too important to interrupt.

  Now, with the woman he cared about looking pale and shell-shocked, he wished he had.

  Sushma’s vitriol knew no bounds and from what he’d heard…he wanted to strangle the woman with his bare hands.

  But he should also be thanking her, for hearing Desiree’s heartfelt admissions that she’d never use him, that she thought he was honorable and loyal and honest…it had shaken him to his core.

  Desiree was the real deal. She wasn’t a clever schemer like her mother.

  She was the woman he could fall for given half a chance.

  And he intended on taking that chance, starting now.

  Overwhelmed by a fierce desire to comfort her, he crossed the room and sat next to her, hauling her into his arms. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to, as she clung to him with a ferocity that spoke more than words.

  She needed him and he’d be there for her. But when she clambered onto his lap in an effort to get closer, his good intentions to offer comfort quickly morphed into something else entirely. Something that couldn’t be hidden.

  He expected her to slide off his lap, to pretend as if the phone call hadn’t happened and to cite hunger for the meal he’d had brought up.

  Instead, she eased back to look him in the eye, before slowly, deliberately, squirming against his arousal.

  Unable to stifle a groan, his hands clamped around her waist, stilling her before this went too far.

  “Desee, you’re upset. You don’t need to do this—”

  “You’re wrong,” she said, her gaze zeroing in on his mouth. “I need you. All of you. Now.”

  Before he could protest again, she fused her mouth to his, kissing him with inexpert fury and passion, driving away any fleeting resistance.

  He wanted her. Craved her. And now, he could finally have her.

  He stood, supporting her ass with his hands as she locked her legs around his waist, making him grit his teeth against the urge to plunge into her here and now.

  She nibbled his neck as he strode to the bedroom, licked her way to his ear, tongued him.

  “You’re driving me crazy.” He growled, lowering her to the bed and kneeling at her feet. “And I’m going to return the favor.”

  Her eyes widened as he nudged her knees apart, scrunched her skirt high around her waist and ripped her red silk panties off.

  “Hey. I’m on a budget, you know,” she said, her mock indignation tempered with a coy smile.

  “I’ll buy you new ones,” he murmured, lowering his head, never breaking eye contact until his tongue swept at her moist core.

  She arched off the bed with a moan and he anchored her hips, savoring her taste as he licked and suckled her clit until she came apart on a scream.

  Jarryd had fantasized about their first time together, had envisaged stripping her naked, kissing her all over, driving her wild with wanting, before entering her.

  A long, leisurely seduction aimed to titillate and tantalize.

  But all that turned to crap when he stared at her, her head lolling to one side, her silky sable hair spread across his pillow, a satisfied smirk curving her lips, with her skirt ruched around her waist and her open to him, moist and waiting…

  He unzipped, sheathed himself and entered her in a prolonged thrust, biting his lip in frustration at the urge to take it slow.

  Her passion-hazed gaze focused on him then, as her hands slipped up to grab his ass.

  “Faster,” she said, urging him forward, and he didn’t have to be asked twice.

  The plan of slow seduction blew to smithereens by her pants and moans, her hips bucking in sync with his as he drove into her again and again. Harder. Faster. Taking them closer to a cataclysmic finish he craved with every cell in his sweat-slicked body.

  As the pressure in his balls built, he captured her mouth with his and reached between their bodies to finger her clit. She came at the same time he did, as he pumped into her with a mindless urgency that blanked his brain and clouded his judgment.

  For when he rolled onto his side and cradled her close, all he could think was, I can’t let this woman go.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Desiree had never used so much make-up in her life. But with the official launch of the dating convention kicking off in half an hour, she’d lathered on the concealer and foundation, desperate to hide the signs of a sleepless night.

  Not technically true, as she’d managed to snatch a few half-hour naps in the wee small hours, but considering the sexual acrobatics during the rest of the night, those naps hadn’t been nearly enough.

  The dark circles under her eyes should be testament to the most spectacular sex of her life but instead, every time she glimpsed herself in a mirror that morning, she second guessed her wisdom in sleeping with her boss.

  Sure that everyone could see the evidence of her raunchy antics of the night before written across her face, she paused inside the ballroom doubl
e doors, searching the crowd for Jarryd.

  They hadn’t spoken much beyond pleasantries this morning. He’d cited work and escaped from the suite as fast as humanly possible, giving her time to make a dignified exit; as dignified as a woman without panties could be.

  Heat surged to her cheeks at the memory of Jarryd ripping them off and she surreptitiously fanned her face. Yeah, like that would help cool her down, considering every time she blinked she could see their sensuous night together played out again behind her eyelids in erotic detail.

  “You’re so bad,” Shari said, slipping into the ballroom to stand beside her. “As if calling me at the crack of dawn, asking me to bring you a change of clothes plus make-up to the hotel wasn’t giveaway enough you’d done the dirty with Mr. Hotel Hotness, one look at your face would give the game away.”

  “Is it that obvious?” Desiree pressed her palms to her cheeks. “I’m hoping for subtle.”

  “Subtle as a sex-pot.” Shari sniggered. “Have you seen him yet?”

  Desiree shook her head. “We’re supposed to be launching this shindig so I suppose he’ll put in an appearance shortly.”

  “First time you’ll see him since ‘The Morning After’?” Shari made quotation marks with her fingers.

  “Yeah, and it’ll be in front of an audience.” Desiree made a woo-hoo sound. “Go me.”

  Shari chuckled. “Don’t look now, but I’m not the only one who’s having a field day with this. Drew’s here.”

  Desiree swore and shot Shari a death glare. “What’s your fiancé doing here?”

  “He was lying beside me when you called this morning and he’s just as curious as me to see the guy who ended your dating drought.”

  “There was nothing remotely ‘dating’ about what we did last night,” Desiree said, unable to keep the grin off her face.

  Which is the first thing Drew homed in on when he reached them.

  “Oh my God, Shari was right.” He pointed at Desiree’s grin. “You did the dirty last night.”

  “Want to take out a billboard in the middle of Crawford Market and alert everybody?” Desiree punched his arm. “Besides, gentleman don’t bring up that stuff in the presence of ladies.”

  “By your smug expression, there’s nothing ladylike about what you got up to last night,” Shari murmured, making Drew snicker.

  “Quit it, you two. I’m nervous enough about this launch without the two of you giving me grief.” Desiree elbowed them both. “Now shut up so I can try and spot Jarryd.”

  Desiree felt the heat behind her back a moment before he spoke.

  “Someone mention my name?”

  A ripple of awareness strummed her spine at the sound of his deep voice, instantly evoking memories of the dirty things he’d whispered in her ear last night while inside her.

  She clenched her legs together and fixed a cool smile on her face as she turned. “Hey, I’d like you to meet my friends, Shari Jones and Drew Lansford.”

  As her friends shook hands with Jarryd and exchanged pleasantries, she studied him for some sign that what had happened between them last night had changed him somehow.

  But he looked the same: unflappable, cool, in control. His charcoal suit, white shirt and amethyst tie highlighting the body she’d explored in intimate detail, the faint stubble peppering his jaw testament to his lack of time shaving this morning.

  “Desiree, what do you think?” Shari’s knowing smirk made Desiree blush.

  She blinked, caught out in yet another sensual daydream. “Pardon?”

  “Jarryd mentioned the four of us getting together for lunch after the launch?” Shari’s eyes couldn’t hide her glee at making her squirm. “Apparently he and Drew know each other from functions over the years so it’ll be fun.”

  The last thing Desiree wanted to do was double date with her closest friends, but it would stave off any potential awkwardness for a while longer.

  “Maybe another day? I’m swamped.” She glimpsed Anya waving them over. “I think they need us up on stage.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Jarryd said, smiling at Shari, and said, “Good seeing you again,” to Drew, who pulled faces at her once his back turned.

  “See you later,” she said, waving to her friends and studiously ignoring their smoochy puckers as she followed Jarryd. They skirted the crowd, as Desiree became increasingly aware that in a few moments she’d be up on stage, opening herself up to further media scrutiny and criticism.

  “You okay?” Jarryd took hold of her hand and squeezed. “I know this must be the last thing you feel like doing after what happened last time, but hang in there, okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, making a mockery of the lie when her voice wavered, grateful he hadn’t said ‘after what happened last night.’ “Let’s do this.”

  The next ten minutes passed in a blur of speeches by Anya, posing for photographers and flashing a fake smile. With Jarryd holding her hand the entire time. They didn’t kiss for the cameras this time, a fact Desiree wanted to be grateful for. But her inner cynic couldn’t be silenced, insisting that maybe he’d had his fill last night and had now cooled toward her.

  When the last photographer had taken their picture and asked the same inane questions—how long had they been dating, were they in love, blah, blah, blah—Jarryd tugged on her hand and leaned down to murmur in her ear, “Come with me.”

  Desiree, glad to be free from the throng of dating wannabes, didn’t care where they were going. She’d had enough faking it to last a lifetime.

  When Jarryd pushed through an ‘Employees Only’ door, Desiree opened her mouth to ask where they were going but didn’t get the chance. He spun her around, pushed her up against the nearest wall, and kissed her. Devoured her. Long, hot, open-mouthed kisses that left her in little doubt that he hadn’t had his fill last night.

  When he wrenched his mouth from hers to breathe, his eyes held a spark of crazy she knew must be reflected in hers.

  “Glad to know last night wasn’t a dream,” he said, sounding rueful and confused and adorable simultaneously. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you in the ballroom.”

  “Really?”

  She couldn’t help but sound doubtful, not after the way he’d bolted this morning.

  “Really.” His nose crinkled. “I know I freaked out this morning and practically ran away, and I’m sorry for that.”

  He reached out and trailed a finger down her cheek. “You deserved better than that.”

  “I get it,” she said, knowing if he’d been half as stunned as she was over the way they’d combusted between the sheets, he’d needed time to process.

  “That makes one of us,” he said, shrugging. “Have to tell you, Desee, I’m way out of my league here.”

  The longer he stared at her, expecting answers, the harder it was for Desiree not to give him an easy out. Because that’s what he looked like he wanted, a guy desperate to reach out and grasp at any excuse as to why they shouldn’t turn their fake relationship real.

  “Look, the dating convention’s over in less than a week. Let’s keep going as we are, hamming it up in public, and see what happens.”

  Her response sounded trite and empty, and she needed him to reassure her that he wanted more.

  But his cell rang at that moment and he fished it out of his pocket rather than saying he’d let it go through to voice mail.

  Her heart sank as he glanced at the screen and his face lit up.

  “I have to take this. It’s Rory.”

  “Go ahead,” she said, missing his warmth when he stepped away and put some distance between them before answering.

  He’d turned away to take the call and faced with his back, she did the one thing she should’ve done right at the very beginning of this fiasco.

  She walked away.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Where are you, putz?”

  “Hard at work, which is more than I can say for you, bozo.” Jarryd grinned, pleased to hear
Rory’s voice.

  They didn’t talk much these days, what with their hectic schedules, usually on opposite sides of the world. “Let me guess. You’ve just wound up shooting some mindless action flick with a vapid blonde who’s waiting naked in your trailer right this very minute.”

  “Guess again, bro.” Rory sniggered. “Better yet, turn around.”

  Jarryd turned, confusion turning to shock as he saw his brother and no sign of Desiree. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Rory hung up and slipped his cell into his pocket. “I saw you follow some hot chick in here, so when she left, I slipped in.”

  “Where’d she go?”

  Rory shrugged. “No idea, but she pretty much ran out of here.” His brother sauntered toward him with the lazy, confident step of a man used to getting the world on a platter and then some. “She’s a stunner. Much too good for you.”

  Rory enveloped him in a man hug and Jarryd slapped him on the back before shoving him away.

  “Desiree’s mine so back off, bozo.”

  Rory’s forehead crinkled in thought. “How do I know that name?”

  Jarryd blew out a breath. “She’s Sushma’s daughter.”

  Rory’s eyes widened. “That Desiree? Shit, man, do you know what you’re doing? What if she’s like her mom?”

  “She isn’t,” Jarryd said, sounding so fierce his brother took a step back and held up his hands.

  “Whoa, chill. Just don’t want you winding up like the old man.”

  Jarryd shot him a scathing glare. “Give me some credit.”

  “When you earn it, I will,” Rory flung back, as quick witted as always. “Speaking of Dad, how is he?”

  “Same as always. Hiding away in Saravan. Wearing his recluse status like a badge of honor.” Jarryd shook his head. “But he seems happy enough so I try not to interfere.”

  “Maybe I should talk to him? It’s been a while.”

  Jarryd hated Rory’s confidence that when it came to Voigt, he always knew best.

  “Maybe you should. He’s more likely to listen to you.”