Page 73 of Reckless Hate

“Wow. You look different in a dress. Congratulations on your win. I am Nikhil Sood, by the way.”

She recognized the guy. “Congratulations to you too,” she said. He had won the men’s tennis championship and was from the host university.

The guy took the seat next to her. A sliver of annoyance passed through her as she had wanted to observe the party in silence.

Suddenly, the fine hairs on her neck stood straight, and she felt a strange chill despite the heat produced by the heavy crowd. Turning back a little, she scanned the place. Her heart jerked when she saw her enemy seated at the far end of the large bar area. He was on a couch surrounded by a big group. Couple of the girls in that group were literally snuggling against him like cats.

His eyes were directed her way. When their eyes met, and a sizzle passed through her. Ignoring her thumping heart, she turned back towards the bar.

The guy next to her smiled. “I guess you will be flying back tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

“I was at the Simha campus last year for the championship games,” the guy said. “I don’t recall seeing you.”

“I transferred this semester.”

“Oh. That makes sense. I don’t think I’d forget meeting you.”

The guy was flirting. A sliver of annoyance passed through her. She was about to brush him off, but she didn’t. She paused as a thought struck her.

Why am I not attracted to this guy?

The guy was handsome, and he played tennis like her. So far, apart from being quite chatty, she didn’t find any fault in him.

Maybe I should try him out.

She wanted to see if the strange sizzle and awareness she felt towards her enemy would appear again with another guy.

“So where did you train?” the guy asked.

She told him about her tennis training academy in Paris.

“Oh wow. You were trained there? I know it’s very difficult to even apply there.” Many of the current top world players trained at the academy. She was initially able to get into it as a junior player through her father’s recommendation. But over the years, she earned her spot.

She didn’t mention who her father was to the guy.

The guy spoke about his training and his university and family life. She listened to him calmly. While he smiled and spoke, she didn’t get any creepy vibes. But neither did she feel even the tiniest bit of spark.

“Wow, I’m quite parched,” he said. “Let’s get some drinks.” The guy turned to the bartender. “I’ll have a beer. And for the lady…” He turned to her and smiled. “What would you like to have? It’s an open bar tonight. Heard the Simha cousins are footing the bill for the party. Since they literally own this luxury hotel, you don’t have to stop with one drink.”

Once again, a sliver of irritation passed through her. She knew the guy was like any other student who wouldn’t pass up a free drink. But it somehow rubbed her the wrong way.

“I don’t drink.”

“Oh. But you should drink tonight as a celebration!” He ordered something on her behalf.

She didn’t bother telling him no again. She just wouldn’t touch it.

The guy’s beer was placed in front of him. He grinned. “We didn’t exchange phone numbers. Let’s do that before one of us gets totally wasted.”

Her drink arrived. The guy picked it up and was handing it to her when a masculine hand took it away. Samantha’s heart jerked when citrusy cologne wafted in the air.

“What the hell?” the guy asked.

“She doesn’t drink alcohol,” her enemy replied from behind her.

The guy frowned. “Well, I’ll order her a mocktail then.”

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