“America? Really? I never would have guessed.”
Emma ignored his teasing. “I’ve been sent here to sign…to try and sign Harjit Patel.”
“Sign him? You mean as a client?”
Emma nodded.
“Why?” Sanjay asked. “Cricket isn’t very big in America.”
“Are you familiar with The Golden Lotus?”
“The novel by Lalima Bhanjee? Of course. She may not be as big a celebrity here in India as Harjit, but she’s very well known.”
“All the major Hollywood studios are involved in a bidding war to option her book into a movie. My boss believes Harjit would be perfect in the lead role. He wants me to sign him so we can have him on board once the book is sold.”
Sanjay slowly nodded. “And you want to learn about cricket in order to establish some common ground before you begin negotiations.”
“Yes.”
“Well, Ms. Edwards, I will be more than happy to teach you about cricket.” He hesistated. “But, in return, you must do something for me.”
“And what is that, Mr. Kumar?”
“Go to bed with me, of course,” he said, smiling. “I’ve wanted to go to bed with you since I saw you walk into the bar.”
Emma didn’t know whether to believe him; especially the part about his having seen her walk into the bar. His eyes had been glued to the television from the moment she entered.
She did, however, believe the part about his wanting to go to bed with her. Not that she was vain, but Emma had had enough men pay her compliments about her voluptuous body, her smooth caramel skin, and her large black eyes to know she seemed to have what most men wanted.
Even Indian men, it appeared.
She shrugged and tried to act nonchalant, but a sharp current of lust arced through her. Sanjay folded his long, slender fingers. The fingers Emma had, in spite of herself, been imagining stroking deep inside her pussy.
“So we are agreed, then?” he said.
“Only if you promise to teach me enough about cricket that I won’t make a fool of myself with Harjit.”
The corner of Sanjay’s mouth curled up. “I can’t guarantee you won’t make a fool of yourself, Ms. Edwards. However, I doubt that will be so.”
He rose from his chair and offered her his hand. She liked the way his hand felt. Warm and smooth. She could well imagine what the rest of his body would feel like. Just as warm. Just as smooth.
He guided her hand to the crook of his arm and rested it there. Lord, this was too much. Emma giggled.
He looked over at her. “What is it that you find humorous?”
“Look at you. Taking my arm like we were on our way to a dance instead of…” She stopped. “Where are we going exactly? You’re staying here at the hotel?”
He nodded. “I’m here for a business conference. But why don’t we go to your room.”
“Fine with me. Anyway, as I was saying, you’re acting like we’re going to a ball instead of to my room to…”
He grinned. “Teach you about cricket?”
She smiled. “That’s one way of describing it, I guess.”
They entered the lobby and made their way to her room.
Emma took her room’s key card out of her purse. However, before she could slide it through the magnetic reader, Sanjay put his hand over hers.