Page 20 of The Rules of Playing with Fire

“Basically, we help companies struggling with financial management get back on their feet. Where did you get your Ph.D.?” he asked, and when I told him, he added, “That’s a good school.”

“It is. Is that a hint of condescension I detect?”

“Now, why would you think that?” His amused eyes glanced at me.

“Because you have Ivy League written all over you, Mr. Mihir Seth.”

“Is that right?”

“See?”

He returned a genuine laugh. “No, no condescension. I truly believe it is a good school.”

“But not as good as the snobby places you went to, right?”

He shook his head, and his wide smile turned my insides fuzzy. Flirting with him like this was a terrible idea, but teasing him was oh-so fun.

I tilted my head. “If I had to guess, I’d say you went to Harvard.”

“That’s hardly an impressive guess. Everyone goes to Harvard.”

“Well, I’d also say you then went to some hotshot B-school, possibly Wharton. How close am I?”

He threw me a sideways glance with a crooked grin, which I’d figured out was one of his trademark expressions.

“Ah, bullseye!” I congratulated myself with a hearty laugh.

“That laughter of yours sounds musical,” he said with a warmth that touched my soul.

My body stilled. Flirting with him was delightful. A tradition, even. Your best friend-slash-sister’s brother-in-law, or your best friend’s partner’s friend, didi tera dewar and all that. It was fun, but it was never prudent to cross over to the other side of that boundary. Although I wanted to, I so wanted to! His blazer draped over me held me in a soft embrace, engendering urgent feelings of want in my shaper shorts.

He pulled into the now-familiar parking garage of the condominium complex.

“I’ll walk you up,” he said, cutting the engine.

“That’s alright. You don’t have to.” I opened the door to step out.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you to be careful. It’s that Tara will kill me if I don’t see you to the door.”

I pulled the blazer tighter over myself as we walked to the elevator bank and rode up. My needy body kept nudging about my proximity to him, and my rational mind kept reminding me it was a bad idea.

“Would you like to come in?” I asked only out of politeness as he punched in the code on the keypad.

“No, I’ll let you rest.”

I nodded.

He sketched a clipped wave. “See you tomorrow.”

“Thank you for the ride,” I said. “I hope you didn’t have to go too far out of your way.”

I took the blazer off my shoulders and, in an unconscious move, brought it to my nose and inhaled his scent deeply. Our eyes met as I held it out for him, and we froze for several beats before he stepped up and leaned in. I felt his soft breath against my nose, the tobacco in his cologne seeping into my skin.

Maybe just a kiss. A kiss never hurt anyone. My eyes drifted to his lips under the trimmed mustache, and mine parted on instinct. My heart seemed to thunder aloud in the quiet hallway. As I drew my eyes up to his, I was greeted by an intensity that unnerved me. This was a bad idea, I reminded myself, but my body was already leaning in, ready to be devoured by his fire.

Just then, the elevator doors opened, and a young couple walked out with a sleeping toddler in the man’s arms. Mihir took a quick step back, and we exchanged polite smiles with the neighbors as they unlocked their door and disappeared inside.

This time, when he leaned in, Mihir placed a gentle kiss on my cheek, and I found the courage to bring my hand to his chest. “Goodnight, Sona. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said against my forehead.

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