No. He had taken a part of her with him whether she’d been willing to give it or not.

The thought didn’t bring the frantic fear she’d expected, however. Like she’d told him, she had lived through harder times. Meeting Vikram had only made her stronger and she would survive this too.

While most of the team were living it up and celeb-spotting as if their lives depended on it, Naina followed his every movement from when he’d showed up at the stage to announce an award to the edge of the dance floor later with a drink in hand.

It was hard to see him with Zara, touching her casually, cocking his head close when she whispered something, draping his arm around her waist for a photo op...

Now that she understood their relationship better, it was also clear that what Zara and he shared was affection, even love, yes. But not romantic love. Anyone with a little sense could see that but of course the press always wanted to speculate about the couple regardless.

The bungalow where the after-party was held had a lounge with floor-to-ceiling glass walls all around offering a spectacular view of the ocean, with people spilling out into the garden and the marquee. Small crowds huddled under the gazebo, in the upstairs balconies, and some lounged by the infinity pool. Lanterns placed artistically lit up pathways everywhere.

It was entirely a different sphere of life, and she’d recklessly tangled with the uncrowned king of it all. She smiled at the vain thought even as she saw more than one beautiful woman sidle up to him.

Having fun at the party while he was an out-of-her-league Bollywood star was one thing, but standing near him, knowing that she’d seen a part of him that no one else had, while he joined their team and complimented Mrs. Sharma on her pretty sari and teased Ajay on his awful dance movies...was quite another.

She both hoped he’d ignore her and prayed he wouldn’t. The man was turning her into a certifiable mental case.

“You look lovely tonight, Ms. Menon,” he said suddenly.

Six pair of eyes turned to her, as if to appraise the truthfulness of his comment. Her heart took a little tumble as his gaze found hers. “Thank you,” she said primly, knowing from the glint in his eyes that this wasn’t the simple kindness he’d offered everyone else. Which was in itself unusual. He wasn’t the type to engage in casual chitchat with his team. Or anyone for that matter.

“That dress is quite different from your usual colorful skirts.”

For a horrific second, she thought he was mocking her style.

She ran a hand over her belly nervously. “Yes.” Something in his gaze made her spine stiffen. Why was she letting him drive this conversation? “But then, this isn’t my usual playground, is it? I had to borrow pretty feathers to cover up my usual artless style and my far-too-honest mouth. It’s been made very clear to me—”

“Ahh...so then that red lipstick isn’t quite doing its job.” His gaze flicked to her full, lush mouth for a second. “It certainly fooled me.”

“That I’m not sophisticated enough,” she finished lamely.

“While I love your usual colorful skirts and danglingjhumkas, I have to say you rock this look too. Not that I’m surprised.”

Her pulse raced as she realized he was not being facetious. “Thank you.”

“Who said you’re not sophisticated enough?” Mrs. Sharma jumped to her defense like the mama bear she was.

Naina shrugged. “Never mind, Mrs. Sharma. It’s okay,” she said, scooting closer to the other young guy on their team—a total idiot whom Naina usually avoided like the plague—and tangled her arm through his.

Two could play at this game. She would play so many games that Vikram would forget what artless and honest meant.

“I don’t really have the taste for the high life. Too fickle for me. I’m happy where I belong.”

The idiot took his chance and pulled her closer to his side, his muscled arm tight around her waist, smooshing her boob into his side. Naina thought she might throw up a little in her mouth.

Vikram on the other hand looked as if he wanted to separate the guy’s arm from its socket. But such a vulgar display, she knew, was limited to his movies. Messy emotions had no place in his cultured, controlled existence.

But when he looked back at her, while the team saw their grumpy boss with a polite smile on his face, Naina saw something else. He hadn’t succeeded in obliterating every emotion right then. His tight jaw, the way his teeth gripped his lower lip told her that.

“You clearly can move through worlds, Ms. Menon. Masked or unmasked, no man worth his salt could fail to recognize that you’re the real thing.”

Every word hit Naina like a fist to her heart, vibrating in her very cells.

If there was any doubt left among her team that this wasn’t a usual interaction, that comment put paid to it. They stared in stunned disbelief at the raw, genuine emotion ringing in his words.

Did he want the team to gossip about them? Now, when she was on the verge of leaving? Why was he torturing her like this?

“Far too real then,” she said, self-mockery filling her words. “And here I always thought I was not enough. Apparently, the opposite’s the problem.”