Page 40 of Claiming His Bollywood Cinderella

“This is not a rejection, Naina.”

“No?” Naina stood up on trembling legs and gathered her dignity. Seeing that she had just humped his thigh like a dog in heat, it was a little hard. “Was it just a power trip then? Making me admit how much I wanted you, giving me that orgasm without letting me give you pleasure in return...was it all just to prove that you have this...power over me? To prove to yourself that you can win me from some other guy?”

He flinched and she felt a moment’s satisfaction that she had wounded him. It was fleeting though, for it wasn’t in her nature to hurt anyone. And she didn’t want to hurt him, of all people. She wanted to be a part of his life for as long as he’d allow, and he was taking that away from her.

“You know me better than that, Naina,” he finally said. Still not touching her. Still not moving.

“I thought so too. But I’ve been proven wrong before. Maybe you’re right and I will always be a little too naïve and little too foolish when it comes to men.”

He called her name as she left the room but she refused to listen to him and his great principles anymore. She wasn’t going to cry over him. She wasn’t.

She had gambled everything and she’d lost. That’s all this was. That’s all it had to be. And yet, she couldn’t help but like the man a little more for sticking to his own damned rules.

CHAPTER TEN

NAINAWASTYPINGaway at her laptop in her bedroom, with a steaming cup of chai and a plate of samosas, while the rest of the team got dressed for the awards show to which they’d all been given free passes, thanks to Vikram’s generosity.

It would be a frivolous, fun evening but the last thing she wanted was to be reminded why she didn’t belong in the same sphere as Vikram, to see him and Zara on display for the entire world to see.

It had been three days since their showdown. Three days in which Naina had stubbornly stayed. Because leaving would have meant running away and letting him win.

He’d wanted to simply remove her from her role as his assistant, supposedly to give him time to work out how to manage any personal relationship they might have. But the reality was, she would be out of sight, out of mind. Apparently, she could be just as bloodthirsty when it came to arrogant men who made executive decisions for her.

In the stark light of day, she’d even succeeded in convincing herself that she’d had a fortunate escape. A man who could exert such self-control at that level, a man who could pull away that easily in the middle of lovemaking when he so badly wanted her—and Naina knew how desperately he’d wanted her...how could he ever feel comfortable with the strength of her emotions?

But when night fell and she heard him come into the villa long after she’d retired, when she heard his footsteps pause outside her room, when she remembered catching him looking at her as they worked, as if he couldn’t get enough, when their hands touched innocently and lingered, she fell right back into the pit.

Fool that she was, she’d even deprived herself of Ajay’s company. Not to pacify Vikram but because Ajay saw too much. The last thing she needed was to be pitied over Vikram’s rejection of her.

It was his loss.

If she said that enough times in her head, she was going to believe it. Soon.

The silver lining however had been the camaraderie that built between her and Zara. True to Naina’s first impression, the actress was down-to-earth and kind—mythical qualities in the industry. She had insisted Naina join her for her dinner last night, and just for that, she had all Naina’s gratitude.

She had a feeling Zara knew most of what went down between her and Vikram. At dinner, she’d said, “The world is built for men to take it from us, Naina. Vicky is a good guy. But don’t change, even for him. Don’t let him take a single thing more than you’re willing to give. Not your tears, not your joy, not your ambition.”

“He doesn’t want anything from me,” Naina had replied, still smarting. “I’m not sophisticated enough to play his game.”

Zara had squeezed her hand. “What is sophistication but a mask against hurt? You caught his interest because you’re genuinely you. You can learn to play games but do you think we can all become a more honest version of ourselves, like you? Listen to your heart. You know him better than anyone.”

“You’re closer to him than anyone else. Even his family.” Naina was ashamed to hear the hint of jealousy seep into her words.

Zara, the lovely woman that she was, just smiled. “We’ve been good friends for a long time, yes. But I’ve never seen him the way he is with you. You get to see the real Vikram, the Vikram even he doesn’t know exists, methinks. And there’s nothing more threatening to a powerful man than the unknown.”

Naina didn’t know what to make of that. Weighing it up, she thought Zara’s insight might be useful. Naina wasn’t a pushover, but Vikram had made her realize she could do a better job of establishing her own boundaries. Of giving her own wishes and dreams as much weight as she did Jaya Ma or Maya’s. Of learning to love without fear.

She couldn’t help seeing everything through the lens of his words now, herself included. She had always operated out of a worry that she’d disappoint everyone around her and that had to end.

This morning, she’d asked Zara if her job offer was still open and accepted it. Even in this, the blasted man had been right.

Why should Naina change the course of her whole life because of him? She resolved to speak to Jaya Ma about Papa’s debts as soon as she returned home and persuade her that they should sell the house to pay them all off.

She’d clung to it only because she’d had memories of Mama and Papa living there. But Papa would never have wanted the house or his debts to become a millstone around her neck. To stop her from moving forward in life. Once again, Vikram had been right.

A knock sounded at her door. Naina opened it to see one of the staff members standing there with a luxury designer shopping bag hanging from her fingers. Before she could reply, the woman thrust the bag into Naina’s fingers and left.

Shaking her head, Naina pulled out the contents of the bag. A beautiful pale yellow dress slithered out from between layers of expensive tissue paper. Her mouth falling open, Naina tentatively unfolded the gown. Weightless and silky, the long gown caressed her fingers, instantly lifting her mood. The corset had been embroidered with hundreds of beads and then the dress flared at the hips in a high-low hem.

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