Page 103 of Cross the Line
‘We’re not,’ he agrees with a hint of disbelief. ‘No more hiding from him.’
‘No more hiding,’ I repeat, dabbing under my eyes to wipe away the slowing tears. My make-up is certainly ruined by now, but I can’t bring myself to care. ‘I can’t believe it.’
Dev huffs out a laugh. ‘Yeah. Neither can I. But I’ll take it.’
He slings an arm around my shoulders and tugs me into him. I go willingly, sliding my arms around his waist as I lean against his solid chest. It feels like we’ve survived a battle.
‘I don’t want to go back out there,’ I mumble against the purple silk of his kurta. ‘Not after that. I need to take some time to just . . . breathe.’
‘We don’t have to go back to the party,’ he says. ‘But there is somewhere else I want to take you.’
He pulls back, lacing our fingers together once again as he leads me down the hall. We turn a corner, then another, before we come upon a sliding glass door that leads to a patio on the side of the house. Dev lets go of my hand to unlock and open it, then ushers me outside.
From here, I can hear the music playing inside the tent, but we’re shielded from view of the backyard by a lattice wall of climbing roses. The flowers scent the air, petals fluttering in the soft evening breeze. I swear it’s the most romantic place I’ve ever been. I even spin to take it all in, my sari twirling around my legs.
‘I love this,’ I exhale, tilting my head back to take in the bright stars and the slim crescent of the moon.
When I look back down again, Dev is offering me his outstretched hand.
‘Come here,’ he says. ‘Dance with me.’
The laughter that bubbles out of me is light. It pushes away the lingering tension from our encounter with Oakley. I still don’t feelgood, but the pain is easing.
‘You know I can’t dance,’ I remind him, though I kick off my heels and nudge them to the side in preparation. ‘Remember my parents’ anniversary party?’
‘I’ll never forget Jeremy’s howl when you stepped on his toes with your stilettos.’ He snickers, motioning me toward him with an arm extended. ‘Stand on my feet. I’ll move for both of us.’
‘Dev, I don’t want to hurt—’ My protest dies when he sweeps an arm around my waist and lifts me briefly. A moment later, he settles my feet on top of his.
‘Hold on to me.’
So I do. And he sways with me in his arms, moving our feet in tiny steps.
‘This can’t be comfortable for you,’ I giggle, glancing down at my bare feet on top of his very expensive designer shoes.
‘I’m always comfortable when you’re in my arms.’
‘Charmer.’
‘You know it.’
I have nothing else to say to that, so I rest my head on his chest and let him take over. Almost instantly, the song shifts into something slow and romantic. Like the universe just knows.
His heartbeat is slow and steady under my cheek, a reminder of the conditioned athlete he is.
When it ticks up a notch, I lift my head and eye him. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘You’re going to think I’m crazy,’ he says. ‘But you make me nervous, Willow Williams.’
‘Me?’ I have to scoff. ‘Why?’
‘Because I’m so in love with you that it hurts.’
My breath catches and my heart stutters at the open honesty on his face. I nearly tear up again, because I know exactly what he’s talking about. I know that deep soul ache. And I feel the same about him.
‘Me too,’ I whisper back.
He cups the back of my head with one hand, guiding my cheek back to his chest, to the steady beat of his heart.
