Page 49 of Born in Sin

Her guard moved back slightly. Majid’s rage simmered in the air, a potent force. She knew he’d be here. The only thing that had worked to calm Majid down was nicotine. That had been the truth of his past and apparently, a standard for his present too.

“Your fans too,” he said, his voice soft and silky.

Cara smiled, tilting her head slightly in a tiny nod. “Not enjoying yourself in there?” she asked, as he lit his own cigarette and took a drag from it.

He made a noncommittal sound, taking another drag and blowing perfect little, smoke circles.

“May I ask you something, Ms. Ferns?” he asked, his voice bland and impersonal.

A strong gust of wind blew her hair into her face and she swore as she shoved it back. Her hairstylist was not going to be happy about that.

“Want another selfie?” she asked, stubbing her cigarette out and turning to face him.

“I didn’t say ask you for something, I said ask you something.” He smiled, the familiar, friendly smile she’d trusted for years. “I feel like I know you from somewhere, but I am sure I would remember if I ever met the superstar who’s reigned over Bollywood for over a decade now. So, it must be from before your celebrity days. Maybe from college, or school, or our wild partying days?”

“I didn’t go to college.” Cara smiled brittlely. “And I couldn’t afford wild partying days, not when I was working all hours of the day and night.”

“Which leaves school,” he murmured. “I’ve read all your interviews, Ms. Ferns. You’ve never mentioned where you went to school.”

“All of them?” Cara arched an eyebrow. “Is that even possible?”

Majid grinned. “The interesting ones,” he amended.

“Well, I’m glad to know people still find me interesting,” she murmured. “Got to stay relevant right? I have to get back on set. Will you be joining us or have you had your fill?”

“I need another cigarette before I come back,” he answered, tapping one out and holding it out to her.

She shook her head, declining the offer. She walked back towards the set, Shiva falling into step behind her.

“Ms. Ferns,” Majid called out. She turned to face him. His smile had disappeared, the rage she’d sensed earlier returning. “You never did tell me where you went to school.”

Her pulse fluttered, a trapped rabbit. Temptation, as she’d learned in the past, always led to trouble.

“I was homeschooled,” she replied, with an arch of her eyebrow. “Are you going to quiz me on my general knowledge now?”

He shook his head, seemingly embarrassed, running a hand through his hair and looking over her head at something she was sure only he could see.

“MayIask something?” she asked now, tossing his words back at him.

His gaze snapped back to hers, toxic tension roiling off him. But all he said was, “Please.”

“Who exactly do I remind you off?”

Nerves skimmed under her skin, as she watched his gaze rove her face, looking desperately for a connection to the knowing that seemed to plague him. She hoped that desperation followed him into the gates of hell itself.

“Someone from my past,” he said finally.

“Someone special?” she asked, probing at a wound that he would never know throbbed beneath her skin too. “A girlfriend or something?”

Majid laughed, a dry, brittle sound. “No, God no. Nothing like that. She was a friend, a good friend. I would have loved to have something more with her but she…she never saw me that way.”

“Hmm,” Cara murmured. “So, you look for her in everyone you meet?”

His gaze locked with hers. “I’ve only ever seen her in you. No one else.”

Cara smirked. “Well, in that case, I’m sure she was very special.”

“She was.” Something that looked a lot like anguish flared in his eyes. “She was very special. She was, and still is, the best friend I have ever had.”

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