Page 9 of The Secret She Kept in Bollywood

Simon...was here at Zara’s party. And he was clearly with Meera.

Why?

A deafening silence descended in her ears, her heart beating a frantic tattoo as Zara walked up to greet Meera and Simon. Through it all, Anya could hear the girl’s voice chattering away excitedly.

Papa...she was calling him Papa. Meera was calling him Papa...

The man Anya had had sex with under the cover of darkness, the man she’d poured her heart out to was... Meera’s father.

Her baby girl’s adoptive father.

God, how had she let this happen?Why was the universe trying to destroy her again?

Anya shot up from the divan, adrenaline pounding through her making flight the only choice left to her. Just as the two of them accompanied by Zara reached her.

“I can’t tell you how excited I am to finally meet you, Ms. Raawal,” Meera said and Anya stared at her animated face, her throat so tight that it hurt to swallow. “Zara di said you’d come in during the rehearsal, but I must have missed you. I can’t tell you what a fan I am of your latest line of clothes for teens.” She tugged at the seam of the jeans she was wearing, rocking on the balls of her feet. “Do you know how impossible it usually is for me to find jeans that fit me so well? Just because I’m tall and curvy and...”

“Give Ms. Raawal a chance to respond, Meera,” said a deep voice behind the girl. The voice that had whispered the filthiest things in her ear four nights ago.

Heat swarming her cheeks, Anya found her gaze colliding with his. He knew her identity but he didn’t reveal it even by the blink of an eyelid.

She should be thankful. She was thankful. But the spiral of her thoughts wouldn’t cease... What did he think of her? Would he forbid her from seeing even the little of Meera that she’d hoped for? Would he think her a bad influence?

“I’m Meera De Acosta... Well, Meera Verma for the industry,” the girl said, puncturing Anya’s spiral. “I’m the daughter of...”

“Rani Verma, I know,” Anya said, through numb lips. “I’m excited to meet you too, Ms. Verma. My brother’s been singing high praises of you.”

“Please, call me Meera. Especially since you’re going to create my wardrobe for the movie and I’m going to pester you a lot.”

Anya smiled, despite the spectacular spiral her life was going into. It was impossible to stay unmoved with the girl’s adorable smile and easy excitement coming at her in overwhelming waves.

“This is my dad, Simon,” Meera said, shifting to the side.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Raawal.” He sounded as if they’d just met.

She should follow his lead and simply pretend too. Act like it hadn’t been a big deal. After all, she was an adult and she hadn’t done anything wrong.

But all her warnings and reassurances didn’t help.

She stared at his hand stretched out between hers, long fingers with bluntly trimmed nails. Corded wrist with hair sprinkled. That hand had touched her everywhere. Those fingers had pleasured her so intimately. Those powerful thighs had held her against the wall while he... God!

She’d had sex with her daughter’s father, had ruined any chances she might have had of being in Meera’s life—even temporarily. It was a twist worthy of one of Vikram’s blockbuster movies that Virat teased him about so mercilessly.

“Anya?” She heard Zara’s voice as if it was coming from far away.

Her vision swam and her breath felt choppy. But before she hit the floor, Simon was there. With his broad shoulders, and concerned eyes, and strong hands holding her tightly.

Their eyes met and Anya saw his concern and his questions.

“I’m okay,” she whispered, loath to draw anyone else’s attention. Especially her brothers’. “I just need some air.”

He nodded and let her go. But not before his jaw hardened and he whispered back, “We’re going to talk soon,Angel.”

This wasn’t the kind stranger or the seductive lover. This was a different man—more demanding, terse, even.

Anya pasted a smile onto her lips and turned to Meera. “I’m feeling a little unwell this evening, that’s all,” she offered, tears prickling at the back of her eyes.

Glad that she’d kept her composure, she walked away. And didn’t miss the sensation of Simon’s gaze on her back determined to probe to the depths of her soul.

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