Page 130 of Carnal Games

“Let me know once you’ve discussed it at home.”

“I will.”

As silence falls with the topic of family hanging in the air, I wait for the inevitable question where she attempts to stir a conversation about mine. It’s only natural. A part of me is curious to know what Nathan has told her about me. If he’s painted me as a villain who abandoned his parents and little brother.

Peeking a glance at her, I read the urge on her face written plain as day to ask about my past. I’m ready to shut her out, when she does the unexpected.

“How did your meeting go?” she casually asks.

Finished with my dinner, I dab my mouth with a napkin and drink some water before replying, “As expected.”

“Did you come back early for me?”

I become entranced by the amused curve to her lips. “I was worried my place wouldn’t be in one piece because of the company you had.”

Her sweet laugh threatens to put me in a spell. As though her lush mouth isn’t distracting enough.

“I’m stationing a bodyguard next time I’m not home, since you didn’t call me like I asked you,” I declare.

“Are you making me your prisoner, Mr. Singhania?” she teases. “You’ll prove Rosalie right, if she finds out.”

“If keeping you safe means making you my captive, then yes,” I rasp, staring into her eyes. “You are my prisoner.”

A flush darkens the angles of her face, like she wouldn’t mind it at all. Sneaky and tempting little looks like this is what makes me question the sanctity of her engagement with Nathan. She claims to love him, yet each second we spend together alone, the chemistry between us becomes undeniable.

Would it be there if her heart truly belonged to another man?

“I was alone for barely an hour.”

“The last time you were alone for mere minutes, I found you beaten on the floor.” The words spill out harshly, as I replay the scene in my head and the dread I felt the entire time she was unconscious. “So, it isn’t barely an hour to me, Iris. It’s the difference between someone hurting you and me not being there to save you.”

Her breathing grows shallow as she stares unblinking. I don’t conceal my emotions, letting her witness the rage and anxiety I felt.

“I’ll call you if I’m ever alone,” she promises thickly.

Good girl.

I nod tightly but the tension becomes cutting after my raw confession.

It’s her who breaks it by adorably offering, “I made choco chip cookies too. Would you like some?”

“Did you even rest in bed today, little rainbow?” I lightly scold.

She throws her hands up, and whines, “I got really bored. You don’t have Netflix or Prime,orcable. Where do you watch sports or the news?” Her lips purse as she shakes her head like I’m insane. “Seriously, what decade are you living in, Kian?”

Her bangs are held back by a purple hairband. Though a few untamable strands come loose, sticking to her cheeks that I itch to tuck behind her ears.

She keeps yapping, “There are other activities to do besides working or reading, you know.”

“Reading is a better hobby than losing your eyesight binge-watching TV.”

“I saw your collection of old historical books on warfare and plagues. Just the first page had me snoring. Shows and movies are entertaining.”

“The books are in the master bedroom.”

She frowns. “Yeah, I know.”

“So, you’re saying you went intomyroom while I wasn’t home.” I lean closer and drop my voice an octave. “Did you snoop around in my room, Iris?”

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