Page 25 of Addiction

“Cancel them.”

Fucking asshole. How dare he think he could dictate to her?

He came forward to touch her cheek, and she retreated several steps.

“Don’t touch me,” she lowered her voice. “Since you want me to spell it out, understand once and for all that I will never go out with you. Are we clear?”

Eyes flashing with fury, she backed two more steps and slammed straight up into a hard chest. Large, rough hands touched the bare skin of her arms and static burst over her skin. She inhaled. The scent of oud and leather invaded her nose. Delicious. Even before she looked to the side, she knew it washim.

Her breath caught.Hewas here. God. Armaan was here. After returning from London, she’d been trying her best to forget about him and the feelings he invoked in her. His scent, his touch, his kiss… Well, forgetting him had been an epic failure. No matter how hard she tried to immerse herself in her work, he was never out of her mind.

Added to that, like a complete moron, she’d even sniffed his coat—the one he’d wrapped her in—a time or two. Like a fool, instead of leaving it in London or tossing it into a bin, she’d brought it home with her. And now, it was wrapped on a chair in her bedroom. She told herself daily that she’d dispose of it, yet she hadn’t done so.

When a week had passed and she hadn’t heard from him, she’d thought he’d left her alone. She still wasn’t sure if she felt regret or relief on that. Relief… of course it was a relief, she told herself again. Then why was her heart beating so fast now? Why was her body singing in delight now that he was close?

Armaan Oshnov was here, and he was looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. She ought to move away. But it seemed she’d lost her ability to move and speak. Her back still pressed against his chest, she tipped her head to the side to study him better. Dressed in a charcoal grey suit, aburgundy shirt with a soft rose pocket square, his hair ruffled, and a light stubble on his jaw, he looked absolutely divine. Her heart lurched again. He was here. Why? How? For what?

With his eyes dancing with mischief, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. Her breath caught.

“Hello,moya tigritsa. Did you miss me?”

She stared at him. “Umm… no.”

He chuckled.

Umm… no?! Really. Her words sounded false even to her own ears. What was wrong with her? She was fumbling like an idiot. One second ago, she was so furious with Ozan for touching her without her consent. But with Armaan, she was melting into a puddle. How stupid was she? She straightened and moved to the side, but Armaan caught her waist and held her to him.

His eyes were glacial when they landed on Ozan.

Ozan’s eyes widened as he recognized him. From behind Armaan, his bodyguard, the same one she’d seen in London, stepped closer.

Armaan faced her. “Is everything okay here?”

The last thing she needed was for Armaan to go all mafia on the photographer. That would cause a scandal of epic proportions. Ozan was already drawing his own conclusions about the two of them. His eyes flicked briefly on Armaan’s hand at her waist before they widened even further. Well, if the cost of this disgusting man leaving her alone was to let him assume that she was with Armaan, then so be it.

“Ozan and I have reached an understanding,” Navya said, looking at the photographer. “Haven’t we?”

Ozan’s gaze alternated between Armaan and her.

“Answer her,” Armaan demanded coldly.

“Yes. It’s all fine,” the photographer said.

“Good,” Armaan said. “I’m sure you have somewhere else to be. Go now.”

Navya wanted to laugh at the shock on Ozan’s face as Armaan haughtily dismissed him. He visibly gulped and headed in the direction opposite from them.

Now alone, Armaan faced her. “Are you alright?”

“Of course.”

“You looked like you wanted to murder him. That can be arranged, you know.”

She stared at him open-mouthed.

Eyes dancing, he held his palms up. “It was a joke,moya tigritsa.”

“Really? Knowing you, it’s hard to say. You did ask your security to break a man’s legs in front of me.”

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