Page 42 of Empowered

I did a goofy dance, waving my arms in the air, unable to control my excitement. That broke his tough façade, and he gave me the sweetest smile in return. I quickly ran back into the bathroom to hurry before I ran out of time.

Chapter XXIV

Shyam

“How many of those are you going to eat?” I asked.

“They’re so good. I need to try all the flavors!” Amelia was inhaling her thirdkulfi,a denser version of ice cream on a stick, flavored with spices or fruit. She seemed to like the mango-flavored one the most, judging from how fervently she licked the cream. My dick noticed and wished it were thatkulfiin her mouth. “Do you want some?” she asked between licks.

I smirked in response.Yeah, but not the ice cream.

She swatted my arm as if reading my thoughts. In a low voice, she said, “Not everything is sexual.”

“With me, it is,” I said, sneaking a not-so-subtle glance at the cleavage peeking out from under the neckline of her dress.

To spite me, she rearranged the deep-green shawl around her shoulders to cover my prime view. She grinned with satisfaction that she had successfully taken away something that brought me such pleasure.

We continued walking down the outdoor market in downtown Amritsar. We stood out against the sea of people—Amelia with her beautiful red hair and Western features flanked by four of my most intimidating bodyguards. If she noticed that people were staring at us, she didn’t let on. She was enraptured by the sights and sounds around her. She was a vision in her flowy yellow dress, embroidered with brightly colored flowers. She insisted on wearing the shawl around her shoulders to blend in with the local women.

A vendor stopped us to show us his display of bracelets in his stall. These shop owners were ruthless with their sales tactics. They aggressively hailed pedestrians, trying to make the most money they could on their goods. I would benefit from hiring a few of them to work for me, with how skilled they were.

I kept walking along, accustomed to ignoring their sales pitches, but soon turned to my side and saw that my partner was missing. She had taken the vendor’s bait and was perusing his selection of bangles.

“Shyam, these are so beautiful!” she said, holding up sets of glittering bracelets in either hand. “My mother would love these.”

“We’ll take six sets of different colors,” I said to the vendor in Hindi, handing him a bundle ofrupees. I wasn’t in the mood to haggle with him.

He nodded happily and set about to wrapping and bagging them for us.

“Not those,” I said, pointing to the green set that he was about to wrap. Instead, I took them and slipped the set onto her slender forearm. I kissed her wrist before releasing her hand.

“Thank you.” She grinned from ear to ear. Her smile lit my heart up like the sun lighting up the world. I would do anything to see it on her face.

I pressed a kiss to her forehead. She lifted her wrist in the air and shook the bangles in elation before walking to another stall.

“Is she your wife, sir?” the vendor asked me as he handed the bag over.

The guy really had no boundaries. “No,” I said curtly.

He continued, “If I may offer advice, don’t let her go.”

I stared at him, unsure of what to say in response.

“The way you look at her, sir. And the way she looks at you. Not many people find that in life.”

I nodded at him and said, “Thank you,” before turning away.

I had no intention of ever letting her go. But was I ready for marriage? I wasn’t against marriage. In fact, I respected its institution. My parents had a great marriage when they were alive. But I had seen what my job could do to the person I loved when my mother was killed, and my father was left alone and heartbroken. I never wanted to bring a woman into this life, destining her to meet the same fate.

I watched her a couple of booths down with two of the guards standing by her. One of the guards seemed to be translating a conversation between her and the vendor.Another kulfi vendor. I laughed to myself, finding her obsession adorable. The vendor was all smiles as he offered her a pistachio-flavored ice cream.

Her sweet, carefree attitude was contagious. My house was happier with her in it. My life felt full. Could I really live with out her? She was tough. She had proven that when she was kidnapped. Maybe she’d be okay by my side in this life? Certainly, my last name would offer her protection, yet it could also mean her death if someone were pissed enough at me.

Visions of her wearing my wedding ring and round with my child made my heart falter. I could protect her with a fleet of armed men when we went back to New York, but would that be enough? I had so many questions and not enough answers. In fact, I didn’t know anything for certain except that I loved her more than anything in this world. I felt so in love yet so frustrated at the same time. I didn’t do well when things were out of my control.

She broke my train of thought when she found me with her eyes from in front of thekulfistall. Her eyes twinkled from afar as she smiled and waved her ice cream in the air to show me that she had scored another. I had better get back to her before she made some other men around her horny with the way she was going at her treat. And judging from how she stuffed it between her lips, pistachio was her new favorite.

We walked a little farther, passing by a man seated on the ground playing thepungi,a long flute with a large round sphere in the center of it. Amelia stopped to watch the show. The man sat in front of a straw basket with a lid covering it. The loud shrill of his instrument drew a crowd. He removed the lid and the head of cobra rose quickly to peer at its surroundings. Amelia gasped and moved slightly behind me, her head peeking out slightly to continue watching from safety.

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