Page 63 of Obsession

She stood. “Then let’s call it a night.”

He rose as well. “Let me show you to your room.”

Collecting her things, she followed him out of the study. He took her down the corridor lined with paintings of so many famous artists, new and old, watching her eyes light up in appreciation.

“Fuck, this is like a museum,” she said.

Suddenly, she stopped in front of a painting. His heart clenched.

She looked at the artwork and then at him. “Noir comme la nuit...”

“You remembered?” he asked.

“I can’t believe you bought it.”

Of course, he had. Years after they’d had their first proper conversation in front of this painting, the artist had put up an auction for some of his works in London. This painting had come up for sale, and he’d bought it on impulse.

He shrugged. “I told you then that I liked it. I still do.”

She stared at the painting. She tilted her head to the right and then to the left. Her face scrunched. “Nope, still don’t like it. His eyes are very creepy. Although, I do agree that the artist is very talented. Pedro Pavlov, right? Why couldn’t he have painted something brighter? Something which means as bright as sunshine.”

He laughed.

She watched him, a smile playing on her lips. “You don’t laugh enough, you know.”

He stilled. He didn’t remember the last time he had laughed with her. It had been so long that he’d forgotten when. Clearing his face, he preceded her up the stairs, allowing her to catch up with him, waiting as she took in everything around her.

When Alexander had brought them here for the first time, Mihir had been in awe of everything. He’d never seen so much opulence and splendor ever in his life. Gold-gilded walls, pure white marble floors with gold lines, chandeliers so huge and shiny that one could see their reflection in the cut glass, and furniture fit for royalty. Everything was larger than life, too much for him to take in. Now, seeing her appreciate the very same house he’d grown up in and fallen in love with felt surreal.

On the first floor, he led her to the right, stopping in front of a room. He opened the double doors and stepped aside, as she walked inside the large suite.

He followed her. “Sorry, I forgot to ask. Do you need anything to eat?”

“I ate on the flight. I’m good, thanks.”

“Nonetheless, if you need anything, just press zero on the landline. Someone will always be there to cater to anything you want.”

She dropped her gloves, purse, and jacket on the sofa and turned to face him. “Thank you, this room is fabulous.”

He looked around. This room was special, and it was fabulous.

A yawn slipped out of her mouth.

“You should rest,” he told her.

With a quick tilt of his head, he walked away from her. Pausing at the door, he turned to look at her. She stood where he’d left her, by the sofa, looking down at nothing in particular, her shoulders slumped, her face looking lost and forlorn.

The urge to go to her and soothe her rammed through his heart. But he held it at bay. This possessive need unfolding inside him to protect her and take care of her would lead to nothing but his doom. Anna had already doomed him once. He’d gotten out of the scenario scarred and a colder, harder version of himself. Her deception had given birth to the dangerous man the world knew him to be.

He couldn’t and wouldn’t allow her to destroy him again. Which meant hehadto stay away from her. No matter that his body wanted her with a stunning ferocity that shocked him, hewouldstay away from her.

16

Mihir stood at the threshold of his home gym, staring at Anna hit the punching bag. Last night, after leaving Anna’s room, a restless sort of energy had settled upon him. Post that, nothing had been able to capture his interest—not work, not TV, not music—nothing. His mind had remained fixated onher.

Anna was here in his house, just like he’d dreamed of at one time. He ought not to make a big deal out of it, but his heart continued to roll and twist in excitement, knowing she was here, sleeping in his old room, just two doors away.

He’d tossed and turned the whole night until finally, he’d woken up at five am and decided to head to the gym—only to find her already there, beating into the punching bag.

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