Page 109 of Carnal Games

“I am so sorry, Vicky.”Not at all.

She cleans and blows air on her hand after Suhana offers her a bunch of paper napkins. “It’s okay. It was an accident.”

“Hmm.”

“She’s an engaged woman, you guys,” chides Yukta. Then wags her eyebrows at me with a dirty grin. “Heard the younger brother is sex on a stick too.”

Nathan is gorgeous, but he doesn’t make me pour hot beverage out of blind jealousy.

After putting away my tray and washing my hands, I go back up to my floor and slide behind my desk. From the corner, I pick up my strawberry-flavored lip balm and rub it on my lips with a finger. I don’t like putting on lipstick for long hours.

My phone buzzes just as I’m placing the balm back.

Kian’s name flashes at the top with a text to come to his office immediately, kicking my heart into overdrive. It spreads into an electric current all over my body as I bolt upright from my seat.

Since he invited me, I enter his office without knocking. Finding his sleek desk empty, I turn my head toward the attached conference room to see him standing at the head of the long table. Head bent, he reads the report he’s holding in one hand while the other is pushed inside his pocket.

I’ve realized he prefers this room rather than his desk.

Even with his guard down and simply reading a piece of paper, he looks threatening as hell. Like his calmness is a smokescreen.

He doesn’t look up, letting me steal the moment to admire him.

Something I could do for twenty-four hours.

Most men can’t pull off a buzz cut. It’ll make them look harsh. That’s not the case with Kian. The hairstyle feels like it was invented for him. To add a healthy dose of raw magnetism with sharp, angular features carved from stone. The dark scruff around his square jaw flashes a vivid image of earning beard burns from his mouth tasting me everywhere. I’d lie there and let him mark every inch of my skin.

“Come here once you’re done staring, Miss Mannan.”

I’m seriously contemplating removing the surname from my identity. Then he’ll have no choice but to call me Iris.

“I wasn’t staring, Mr. Singhania,” I lie while walking toward him, lured by his hypnotic scent. “I was trying not to disturb you.”

“If I didn’t want to be disturbed, I wouldn’t have called you.” Closing the file and placing it on the table, he turns his body to me. My head tilts up to his face while his gaze flicks below to my feet, his lips twisting to the side a fraction.

Is it my heels? They are open-toe with a bow around my ankles and four-inches tall.

“They can’t be as comfortable to walk in all day as you make it out to be.”

The hint of concern in his tone takes me aback. I lightly joke, “It’s a hidden talent we women have.”

“So, they do hurt?” he probes, meeting my gaze after he sits against the edge of the conference table. I don’t miss how the change in his stance brings us almost eye-level.

“Sometimes. But I’m used to it. I can’t even tell anymore. Dipping them in warm water with a sprinkle of salt works like magic.”

A displeased scowl mars his handsome face. “Do you not have shoes?”

“Not ones that match my outfits.” Twisting my feet from side to side, I hum, “They aren’t as pretty either.”

“And every day, you take the metro while wearing them?”

“Umm, yeah.” Frowning, I ask, “Did you call me in here to interrogate me about my choice of footwear?” Before he can answer, I gasp. “Don’t tell me you find them inappropriate too.”

My mouth slams shut and I stare in confusion as he reaches behind him to grab something from underneath the stack of papers.

I’m stunned when he dangles a key fob from his long index finger toward me, and explains, “This is a company-issued car for you. Use it to drive to work from now on.”

“I didn’t ask for this. Does Arjun have one too?”