Read Online You Can't Fight a Royal Attraction by Ruchi Vasudeva - Free Book Online
Authors: Ruchi Vasudeva
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let him see her consternation. Oh God, she didn’t get nervous around men. Not even gorgeous men. Hell, her brother-in-law was a superstar and she’d never been tongue-tied near him. Yet this grumpy, overbearing, smart-alecky babe magnet had her at a distinct disadvantage. What could it mean?
She put in the spices and added the chopped onions.
‘So how’s your story going?’ She found enough breath to act nonchalant, forcing herself to meet his gaze. If the Groucho Marx expression of last night had been fetching, this lighter, lazy, smiling look was completely undoing her.
‘I had a breakthrough. A “moment”. It doesn’t change the story as I thought earlier but it definitely puts a different slant on it. The end will be spectacular.’ He socked afist into his palm. ‘It’s gonna rock. With proper direction, it will have the audience at the edge of their seats! Probably out of their seats.’
On anyone else it would sound overhyped. But the earnest look, the intense expression in his eyes, the absolute conviction of his voice had her believing. Anyway, he had done it before. The thriller mystery he had written last had got rave reviews, both at home and abroad.
‘Wow! This calls for a celebration. Let’s see, I saw something appropriate… a bottle of Sula rosé somewhere.’
‘I’ll get it.’
‘Not a bad pat on the back.’ She attended to the dish while he uncorked the bottle.
‘You certainly do things in style,’ he remarked as she got out crystal glasses. ‘I’d forgotten I had these.’ She poured the wine and he clinked glasses with her and took a swallow. ‘Not to mention it smells good, whatever you have there.’ He pointed towards the pan.
‘Well, I’m good at these things.’ She relished the bubbly drink. ‘You know, side advantages of managing a household.’
‘Hmm… looks like a model but inside is a domestic goddess…!’ He raised his drink in a salutation.
‘Ta-da!’ She did a comical rotation and a half courtesy, holding her wine glass aloft. ‘Surprised you, didn’t I?’
‘You look inordinately pleased,’ he murmured, cocking an eyebrow.
‘Oh yes, can’t be shy about it. You act so haughty and snooty, somehow I get a kick to have you at a disadvantage.’
She peeked at him, wondering if he would go snarky, but he had on a strange expression, half whimsical, half regretful. ‘My sister used to say that too… me appearing snooty.’
‘You have a sister?’ Her question invited information.
‘Yes.’
‘Okay.’ She said, ‘I won’t ask about her.’
‘What?’ He glanced at her.
‘You looked down into your drink. Great ploy for discouraging conversation. Means you don’t want me to nose into your affairs. Though I have to say she sounds nice.’
You’d like her.
The words came to his lips and were held back. Why? What the hell! He didn’t want Saira to even meet his sister. His past was private, separate from his present life. Totally demarcated.
His thoughts had him off balance.
She
had him off balance.
He’d given in to the impulse, hoisting her up, but the feel of soft curves as she slid down had the caution return in full force. She felt better than good, smelling of exotic flowers and the flavouring spices. She’d changed into a short top and jeans and he could still feel the touch of silky skin where the top only just met the jean belt.
She extended her hand for his empty glass. He avoided it but she reached again, their fingers touching as he let her have it.
Saira observed the closed look on his face. How different he’d looked a moment ago. Younger, more vital somehow. Briefly, she wondered how it would be if she’d known him
before
? Before Munish had come into her life. Would he still treat her with that guarded distance if she didn’t have the history she had? Or would she see that other side of him? The sunny, broad smile that seemed to relax him and made her feel like smiling too.
Why was she getting these reckless
She put in the spices and added the chopped onions.
‘So how’s your story going?’ She found enough breath to act nonchalant, forcing herself to meet his gaze. If the Groucho Marx expression of last night had been fetching, this lighter, lazy, smiling look was completely undoing her.
‘I had a breakthrough. A “moment”. It doesn’t change the story as I thought earlier but it definitely puts a different slant on it. The end will be spectacular.’ He socked afist into his palm. ‘It’s gonna rock. With proper direction, it will have the audience at the edge of their seats! Probably out of their seats.’
On anyone else it would sound overhyped. But the earnest look, the intense expression in his eyes, the absolute conviction of his voice had her believing. Anyway, he had done it before. The thriller mystery he had written last had got rave reviews, both at home and abroad.
‘Wow! This calls for a celebration. Let’s see, I saw something appropriate… a bottle of Sula rosé somewhere.’
‘I’ll get it.’
‘Not a bad pat on the back.’ She attended to the dish while he uncorked the bottle.
‘You certainly do things in style,’ he remarked as she got out crystal glasses. ‘I’d forgotten I had these.’ She poured the wine and he clinked glasses with her and took a swallow. ‘Not to mention it smells good, whatever you have there.’ He pointed towards the pan.
‘Well, I’m good at these things.’ She relished the bubbly drink. ‘You know, side advantages of managing a household.’
‘Hmm… looks like a model but inside is a domestic goddess…!’ He raised his drink in a salutation.
‘Ta-da!’ She did a comical rotation and a half courtesy, holding her wine glass aloft. ‘Surprised you, didn’t I?’
‘You look inordinately pleased,’ he murmured, cocking an eyebrow.
‘Oh yes, can’t be shy about it. You act so haughty and snooty, somehow I get a kick to have you at a disadvantage.’
She peeked at him, wondering if he would go snarky, but he had on a strange expression, half whimsical, half regretful. ‘My sister used to say that too… me appearing snooty.’
‘You have a sister?’ Her question invited information.
‘Yes.’
‘Okay.’ She said, ‘I won’t ask about her.’
‘What?’ He glanced at her.
‘You looked down into your drink. Great ploy for discouraging conversation. Means you don’t want me to nose into your affairs. Though I have to say she sounds nice.’
You’d like her.
The words came to his lips and were held back. Why? What the hell! He didn’t want Saira to even meet his sister. His past was private, separate from his present life. Totally demarcated.
His thoughts had him off balance.
She
had him off balance.
He’d given in to the impulse, hoisting her up, but the feel of soft curves as she slid down had the caution return in full force. She felt better than good, smelling of exotic flowers and the flavouring spices. She’d changed into a short top and jeans and he could still feel the touch of silky skin where the top only just met the jean belt.
She extended her hand for his empty glass. He avoided it but she reached again, their fingers touching as he let her have it.
Saira observed the closed look on his face. How different he’d looked a moment ago. Younger, more vital somehow. Briefly, she wondered how it would be if she’d known him
before
? Before Munish had come into her life. Would he still treat her with that guarded distance if she didn’t have the history she had? Or would she see that other side of him? The sunny, broad smile that seemed to relax him and made her feel like smiling too.
Why was she getting these reckless
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