Page 43 of Addiction

“—says that Mr. Armaan has invited her, but since I don’t have such an instruction, I wasn’t letting her in, and now she’s creating a fuss.”

“Send her in,” Armaan said, “And ask Dmitri to show her to the gym.”

Mihir disconnected the line. “I thought you said it was over.”

“Well, that’s what I was told.”

“Then why is she here.”

“I don’t know, brother!” Armaan grinned. “But I can’t wait to find out.”

“You’re behaving most unlike yourself. You were always a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of a guy. But this whole thing with her feels different. You seem different.”

What Mihir said was true. In the past, he’d never had to spend so much time and energy on wooing a woman. He’d never cared enough to. But with Navya, he realized, he was beginning to care, which was scary as hell, and definitely not something he could share with his overprotective elder brother.

Mihir continued, “She’s spinning a web and you’re getting stuck in it, brother. So, while you might want to enjoy the web, just ensure you don’t get hurt.”

“I won’t,” Armaan promised. “I know what I’m doing.”

A second later, Navya entered carrying a gym bag. Her expression was grim, her eyes blazing with fire, and a wrinkle marred her brow. She looked angry… with him. She scanned the rest of him, and her eyes widened. Her teeth sank into her lowerlip as she openly checked him out, starting from the top of his head down his bare torso to his feet and then her gaze coasted over him in reverse. He began to throb as all of his blood rushed south to the lower half of his body.

“Well, you look truly fucked,” Mihir muttered quietly. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Armaan cursed under his breath. This attraction between Navya and him was potent and sizzling. Despite the fact that she looked mad at him, it was evident that even she was helpless to the magnetic pull between them.

Leaving him, Mihir walked to the exit and stopped where Navya was.

“You better not hurt him,” Mihir growled at her.

Her face became mutinous. “Your brother is a big boy. He knows what he’s doing.”

“Nonetheless, consider this a warning. Hurt him and you will deal with me.”

“And you can go suck an egg,” she lashed back, looking furious. “After the way you treated my sister, you have no business threatening me.”

Any mention of Ananya always put Mihir on a violent edge and that was the last thing Armaan needed.

“Mihir,” Armaan switched to Russian, “Please go, brother. I’ll be fine.”

Mihir left immediately. Armaan focused on Navya, who was still watching him.

Less than twelve hours ago, she’d rejected him via a text message, and now she was here looking at him with equal parts anger and hunger like she couldn’t make up her mind whether she wanted to throttle him or devour him. His whole body concurred with the latter. But if they were going to take this further, then he also had to make it clear that he wasn’t a puppet to be toyed with.

He would agree to this only if she agreed to his terms as well, because staring at her dressed in those simple tracks that highlighted her curves, her hair pulled in a tight ponytail and a simple sleeveless t-shirt, he knew there was no other woman he’d ever crave as much as he craved her. Actually, crave was too mild a word. He wanted to possess her—mind, body, and soul.

With that acceptance came another realization—one night with her wasn’t going to be enough. He needed as long as it took to figure out why she’d captivated him so. Only then would he be able to let her go.Ifat all he’d be able to let her go.

His brother was right.

He was fucked.

11

“Why are you here?” Armaan asked.

Navya looked at his face, finally forcing her eyes to stop fixating on his bare torso and those sharp abs, and that vee that went down into his shorts, and… Her eyes latched on the mirror beyond him and at the tattoo on his back. It was an anchor that went from his upper back down his spine. She remembered it from all those years ago when he’d fought with her brother in the boxing ring. He’d been bare-chested then too. Curiosity overwhelmed her. She wanted to learn what the significance of that tattoo was and why he had chosen it. She wanted to trace it with her hands and her mouth. She wanted to trace all of him with her tongue and teeth. She wet her lips. Her gaze skimmed lower and lower…

“My face is up here,” Armaan said, sounding irritated.

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