It’s like some kind of sick joke. I beg and plead for tears, and when I finally get them they’re for the wrong person.
Life’s like that. You always get what you ask for but never in the way you expect.
Dev had been everything I had hoped for, but he was taken from me.
Now fate is pushing me at his moody, arrogant, confusing, older brother.
If I wasn’t crying I would laugh.
My tears continue to stream relentlessly down my face. There seems to be no end to them. They felt hot against my skin but as they dry they cool and make me shiver. I wipe at my cheeks and my hands come away wet.
I swallow thickly and take a deep, ragged, breath. My chest feels too tight.
Suddenly my clothes are too tight, too constricting, I have to get out of this dress now. My skin feels flushed with fire. The fire is licking my wounds, setting me ablaze. I strip out of the dress and flush when it crosses my mind the door is wide open and I’m unfortunately far from alone. This isn’t my house, and Siva can walk by at any time.
I slam the door closed with more force than necessary. The loud bang sounds like a gun shot which makes me flinch. I shake my head and my hair brushes my chest and shoulders making me itch. I feel restless in my own body. Completely unhinged. I squish my eyes closed. Everything is bothering me. I take a deep, steadying, breath and head for the shower. A hot shower is what I need. A shower always erases the pain of the day for me.
I turn the water on as hot as I can stand it and by the time I strip out of my clothes the large bathroom is already filled with steam. I step inside, taking a cleansing breath as the hot water loosens the knots in my shoulders. I lean my head back and let the water cascade over my face. I feel like a kid again standing in a rainstorm.
“I’ll weather any storm with you,” Dev’s voice rings strong and clear in my mind.
My knees go weak and I collapse into a helpless heap on the cold shower tiles.
I clench my stomach as a strange noise escapes my throat. Tremors shake through my body. I beat my fist against the defenseless tile.
I lie down on the cold, wet tiles, bring my knees to my chest, and cradle my hands under my head.
I don’t care what happens to me. I hope the water washes away my feelings, my very being. I’m sick of existing. I want to fade. I don’t deserve to live while he’s gone. He didn’t deserve to die. He was the better of the two of us. It’s not fair people die too soon.
It’s not fair.
It’s not fair.
IT’S NOT FAIR!
I beat my fist uselessly against the tile floor.
Time becomes meaningless as the water washes over me. After a time, the water goes from hot to icy cold. At first it startles me but then my whole body goes numb, turning to a prune, aging before my eyes.
I hold one of my hands in front of my face while the other continues to cradle my head. My skin has turned a garish gray color and wrinkles cover my hands. I look like a corpse.
The water continues to beat down on me and, still, I don’t find it in me to move.
Idly, I recall the door to the bathroom opening and the surprise gasp. But it’s as if it’s happening somewhere else. To someone else. I’m not really here.
“Sloane,” inquires Siva, his tone oddly soft, almost hesitant.
“Go … a … way,” I say, my teeth chattering violently. Shivers rock my body.
My eyes track Siva across the room as he grabs a towel from the warmer and opens the glass shower door.
“I-I-I’m fine.” I glare up at him from my heap on the floor, which must be one pathetic sight.
“No, you’re not,” he growls and turns the water off. He bends down with the white fluffy towel held in his hands. Even from this distance my skin soaks up the heat radiating from it.
“But … I’m … naked,” I say unnecessarily.
He laughs. “I’m aware.” He wraps the warm towel around me.
I sigh in pleasure at the heat and snuggle in closer. The towel is large, the size of a blanket, so I’m able to burrow into it.
Siva pulls me into his arms and cradles me against his hard chest like I’m a small child who weighs next to nothing—which is the furthest thing from the truth. My curves have curves.
He sets me on the bed before pulling out his cellphone.
“Dr. Fletcher? I have an emergency. Yes, I am aware of the time,” Siva snarls into the phone. “I’ll pay you double. Fine. Just get here in a timely manner.”
He ends the calls and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Sloane,” he sighs softly.
My eyes scan his body and I see he’s changed into a plain cotton shirt and baggy pajama pants, both now damp from me. His scent of sandalwood swirls in the air around us, hypnotizing me. He bends down, so we’re eye level, and before I can stop myself I reach out and trace the sharp line of his collarbone with my index finger. I feel his muscles stiffen beneath me and he pulls away as if my touch has electrocuted him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, pulling away and keep a secure hold on the towel. I try to stand, to go get some pajamas on, but it’s futile as I sink back down weakly onto the bed. I wonder how long I was under the water.
He reaches out and cups my face and with his thumb traces the shape of my cheek. His full lips part slightly and a pleasant sigh escapes. He bends, tilting his head toward me, and his lips hover just out of reach of mine.
Just when he’s about to close the minuscule distance, his phone rings.
The spell is broken.
A spell which shouldn’t have been there in the first place.
I don’t understand what this thing is between us—it keeps pushing us together, and it’s the last thing either of us needs. It’s crazy. I’m not over his brother, and even if I was, falling in love with Dev’s brother is wrong and disgusting.
It can’t happen. It’s not happening. It won’t happen.
He jumps, startled, and answers it. He murmurs a few words and then hands up. He sighs. “That was Dr. Fletcher. He’s almost here. We better get you dressed.”
“I can dress myself,” I reply weakly.
He gives me a look that says, Yeah right, who do you think you’re fooling?
He starts going through my drawers, looking for something to dress me in, and I can’t find the words to tell him where to look because when he holds up a lacy black thong I can’t seem to find any words as embarrassment clogs my throat.
He finally finds a loose pajama shirt and a pair of pale blue shorts with scalloped edging and carries it over to me.
“I can dress myself, Siva,” I say again.
He rolls his eyes and kneels on the floor, already helping guide my feet into the opening of my shorts.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he mutters. “You’re stupidity makes my brain hurt.”
If I wasn’t so exhausted I’d kick him in the shin. “Do you have to be such an asshole?”
“It’s all I know,” he responds, not looking at me as he slides the shorts over my hips and I wiggle the last way into them.
“I can do the shirt,” I say, holding out my hand as I hold the towel tightly around my chest.
He shakes his head. “Up,” he commands. “I’ve already seen all there is to see, so now’s not the time to be ridiculous.”
My cheeks flame because he’s right. I can’t believe he saw me crumbled on the shower floor having a complete breakdown.
I scrunch my nose in distaste but let the towel fall and lift my arms.
To Siva’s credit he turns his head slightly to the right and does his best not to look as he helps me into the top.
“Thank you,” I whisper quietly as he steps back, nodding in response.
“By the way, this isn’t how I planned on seeing you naked,” he jokes, alleviating some of the tension in the air. Sobering, he adds, “What happened in there, Sloane?”
Honestly, I don’t know if I have an answer for him. Maybe it was a mental breakdown, maybe it was stress, maybe i
t was one of a million other reasons. No matter, it happened, and I don’t want to talk about it. Least of all with him. He’s too hot and cold and I don’t want to be judged for being a human with feelings.
“Why did you come in there?” I say instead, countering with my own question.
He sighs, raking his long fingers through his black hair.
“I was worried about you. I stopped by to apologize but I heard the shower running so I left. When I came back an hour later it was still running. It scared me, Sloane. I thought …” He trails off as his gaze drifts away. “I thought you had done something drastic.”
I swallow thickly. “You mean …?” I start, and don’t finish, not wanting to say the words.
“I thought you had committed suicide.” His words ram into me like a two-ton truck. I wasn’t suicidal in the least, but I could see now how my actions would’ve led him to believe that. I can’t believe I was in there for an hour. Jesus. “I thought maybe the stress of the last two weeks had finally caught up with you.” He looks away, and when his gaze meets mine again his violet eyes have darkened to a stormy gray color. “I’ve never been more scared in my life than I was in that moment. I’ve had many reasons in my life to be frightened but I never felt it until now.” His long fingers tangle in my damp hair and he presses his smooth forehead to mine. “Never do that to me again, Sloane. What happened?” he asks again.
I swallow past the lump in my throat, overwhelmed by the vulnerability in his gaze. There’s more to this that he’s not telling me, something he’s witnessed which made him jump to this conclusion, for it to trouble him so much.
I bite my lip, trying to hold the words in, not wanting to give him more ammunition against me when he inevitably grows cold and distant toward me once more.
But the vulnerable sparkle in his eyes crumbles my defenses and the words tumble out of me.
“Do you want the honest answer?” I whisper. My voice was hoarse, no doubt I’d given myself a cold.
“Always.” He touches a piece of my blonde hair absentmindedly. I don’t think he realizes he’s touching me, even in this small way.
“I was upset when you stormed out on dinner.” I look away, not wanting to go on but knowing I have to. “I have these … feelings for you. I don’t quite understand them, what exactly they are, and what they mean, but I feel like it’s wrong. It has to be. You’re Dev’s brother—a brother he didn’t even speak to. I cried tonight. I haven’t been able to cry since he died,” I admit. “And I was crying over you, not him, which made me cry even more, and I got angry. I loved Dev. I still do. And how can I … How can you provoke such intensity in me? It’s wrong. It’s like I’m betraying him. I feel disgusted with myself.”
“Sloane …,” he begins softly, “Dev would want you to be happy. I believe that.”
I snort. “Do you really think he’d want me to be happy with his messed up brother only a few weeks after he died? Because I certainly don’t think so. Besides, I don’t even understand what I feel.”
He narrows his eyes on me, anger bubbling beneath the surface. In a deadly, too-quiet voice, he says, “I may have my issues, but I am not the monster my family makes me out to be. You don’t know the half of it. You might think you knew Devak Kapur, but trust me, you didn’t. You don’t know anything,” he snarls.
A shiver runs up my spine at his words.
What if he’s telling the truth? What if there are things about Dev I didn’t know?
“That’s not what I meant,” I whisper, but he’s beyond hearing me.
He turns and glowers at the door, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “Dr. Fletcher will be here to see you soon.”
He storms to the door.
“Siva,” I call after him.
The door slams shut and I flinch in response.
This is why I didn’t want to open up, to tell him my inner thoughts. I knew nothing good would come from it.
I wake up before my alarm can go off. I lie there for a minute, staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling. Last night, the doctor came, said nothing was wrong with me, and left. It was highly uneventful. After he left, I gratefully climbed in the bed and fell right into a dreamless sleep.
I hate that my conversation with Siva went so horribly wrong. He’s not exactly the easiest person to communicate with and it’s frustrating. Honestly, I feel sorry for him. He might have this big flat, and lots of money, and nice things, but none of it means anything when you have no one to talk to. No friends. No family. Nobody.
It’s … sad.
After a few more minutes, I climb from the bed and head to the bathroom. I plug in my curling iron and decide to try to make my hair look decent. Though, if I’m being honest, I’m once again avoiding leaving my room.
I’m pretty pathetic.
Once my hair is curled I put on some makeup and then change into a black pencil skirt with a white button down shirt tucked into it. It’s one of my go-to work outfits. I think it looks sleek and professional. I could totally be wrong, though. I’m not exactly a fashionista. I find my pair of black heels and slip them on.
Looking in the mirror, I smooth my hands down the front of the skirt and let out a breath.
Work is the last place I want to be after last night, but it’ll be a respite from this place.
I grab my purse and search for my messenger bag which contains my laptop. After a few minutes of searching there’s no denying it’s not here … which means somehow my idiotic self forgot it.
Maybe I can get a taxi and swing by and get it before work.
I snort to myself. Yeah, if Rajas hasn’t thrown everything out the window yet.
As mad as I am at myself, I realize I can’t magically make it appear, so there’s no point in me standing around griping to myself.
I venture down the stairs and the telltale sound of bacon sizzling reaches my ears. Tentatively, I head in the direction of the kitchen.
Siva stands in front of the stove, his back to me, cooking furiously.
“Morning,” I croak hesitantly, my voice raw.
Startled, he turns and looks at me over his shoulder. “Morning,” he answers, his voice stiff but not angry. “Do you like eggs and bacon?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Good. Sit down and eat before you go.” He motions to one of the barstools before turning back to the steaming skillet in front of him.
I set my purse on the floor before sliding my butt onto one of the stools. He already has two glasses of orange juice poured and I pull one closer to me.
“I still can’t believe you cook,” I murmur mostly to myself, but of course he hears.
He chuckles. “Why? Because I am a man?”
“No.” I shake my head even though he can’t see. “It’s … I mean you have all this money and you’re kind of grump, so I’d think cooking would be the last thing you’d ever want to do.”
He shrugs his strong lean shoulders. “My mom taught me and I like it.”
I file this bit of information away.
Neither one of us mention his behavior last night and as much as I want to bring it up, to point out his hot and cold attitude, I know it’s better to keep my mouth shut so for once I do.
He pulls the bacon out of the pans with a pair of tongs and puts equal amounts of pieces on each side of the two plates which already have eggs waiting to be devoured. He sets a plate down in front of me before pulling out the barstool beside me and sitting down. His arm brushes mine and I shiver.
He digs into his eggs. “Ready for work?”
“Yeah,” I sigh, my tone at odds with my confirmation. “But I don’t have my laptop.”
“Oh?” He quirks an inky brow. “Some of your stuff arrived this morning, the rest of your clothes and stuff, so your laptop might be with those. I had your furniture put into storage,” he adds and sips his orange juice.
“Thanks for doing this. Hopefully it’s here.” As much as I want to run to wherever my stuff is and search for it I don’t want to be
rude, which is laughable since Siva is quite possibly the rudest person on the planet. “This is really good by the way. You might have to teach me,” I joke. “I can cook, but nothing I make tastes this good.”
“Thanks,” he says, with a slight shy smile. “I can try to teach you, but I don’t promise to be as good of a teacher as my mom.”
Dev never talked about his mom. It was as if she didn’t exist and after a while I stopped asking. But now Siva’s brought her up twice. It’s like the brothers lived two completely different lives. If it wasn’t for the familial resemblance I’d begin questioning whether or not they were actually related.
We finish eating in companionable silence and then I wash the dishes while he dries. I was surprised he didn’t have a fancy ass dishwasher in this high-end kitchen, but even though it was nice it wasn’t the largest so I guess that’s why.
Dev and I hadn’t had a dishwasher either and we’d done this same thing—I washed and he dried.
“I have to go,” I say suddenly, my throat closing up.
It was too hard.
No, it’s too easy, and that’s the problem.
He turns to me, a little stunned I think. “Why? I know I didn’t say anything stupid … this time,” he adds with a small laugh.
I give him a tight-lipped smile, trying desperately to hide my pain and confusion.
“Oh, it’s not that,” I rush to say, hoping I can mask the pain and confusion in my eyes. “I’m going to be late to work,” I lie.
Siva glances down at the shiny silver watch on his left wrist and curses softly under his breath. “I didn’t realize the time. I have a meeting I need to be at soon. We better hurry.” Suddenly, he’s the one urging me out of the kitchen. “Come on,” he says, leading me to the foyer where cardboard boxes sit, waiting to be rifled through.
I easily spot my olive green messenger bag leaning against one of the boxes. I pick it up and hug it to my chest.
“I was so worried about you,” I whisper to it.
Siva chuckles and pretends it’s a cough.
I can’t help it if I look silly. All I could picture when I realized I left it behind in my haste was Rajas gleefully tossing it out the window.
Temptation Page 4
