‘You’re being deliberately provocative,’ she accused shakily.
‘Is that a problem?’
‘It’s...aggravating.’
‘Is that so?’ Tak demurred. ‘Any time you think I have it wrong, be sure to let me know and I shall stop at once.’
And there it was. The way to put this entire evening back twenty-four hours, to ma
ke it clear that she wasn’t interested in anything other than a pretend show. All she had to do was tell him he was wrong.
Instead, she deflected. ‘This all started because I asked you if you needed a scene to ensure word of our date got back to your family.’
‘I remember,’ he agreed, a little too knowingly. ‘And I asked if you meant me to kiss you.’
‘I told you I didn’t.’
‘Which I believe we’ve already established was a lie. We appear to be going around in circles, priya.’ Abruptly he stood up, dark and intent. ‘Allow me to break the cycle.’
She knew what he was doing even before he moved around the table. She ought to say something. She had to stop him. Instead she raised her hands slightly to meet his as he drew her out of her seat.
And then she was pressed against his body. Soft heat against inflexible steel. White-hot explosions in her body competed with the thrilling fireworks in her head. She was like a coiled spring, held under tension, and it was all the more unbearable as Tak lowered his mouth to hers and held it there. Refusing to close that gap completely. The heat of his breath on her lips was driving her delirious with longing.
‘Do you think they’ve had a good enough show?’ he pondered.
‘Hmm...?’
‘The other diners. Will they have their phones out yet?’
She might have been insulted, but she heard the crack in his voice and knew he was only holding on by the skin of his teeth.
‘Good point.’ She stopped, as though to consider, although it nearly killed her. ‘A little longer, I think.’
Her reward was a rumble of disapproval from Tak before he lowered his head to claim her lips.
The kiss was every bit as electrifying as their first one outside her apartment door. Had it only been ten days ago? It felt like a lifetime. Or a life sentence. Perhaps because she’d been waiting her entire life for a kiss like this. For a man like this.
She forgot completely where they were, or the game they had been playing. All she knew was Tak, and the way he was kissing her. She was drowning in him all over again, pouring herself into him as she moulded every inch of her body to his.
All that subtle flirting, all those heady glances, all that repressed desire was unleashed in this single moment. As though it would never end.
He plundered her mouth, demanding and devouring with every scandalous swipe of his tongue and every luscious graze of his teeth. And Effie was all too happy to lose herself in the lustiness of it all.
Right up until the moment he moved his hands to her shoulders and pushed her back.
‘I cannot do this,’ he ground out, his face twisted into something she didn’t recognise.
‘Tak...’
‘I cannot do this,’ he repeated quietly. Obdurately. ‘With you, least of all.’
Effie was wholly unprepared for the pain as the words sliced through her. A lifetime of being told, directly or indirectly, that she wasn’t good enough—that she wasn’t enough—flooded through her. Hateful and merciless. She’d thought she’d buried her past a long, long time ago. Yet one utterance from Tak and instantly she felt like that pathetic, rejected girl she’d never really left behind.
Grief blinded her, but she knew the one thing she couldn’t afford to do was let Tak see it.
With Herculean resolve, Effie turned slowly and forced herself to take her time picking up her clutch. She would not run out of here. She would not turn and flee with her tail between her legs like some unwanted, abandoned puppy.
‘Well, then...’ She cleared her throat, amazed at how collected she’d managed to sound. ‘That settles that debate, doesn’t it?’