“You…what?” His knees dipped, euphoria colliding with overwhelming regret in his middle. Had he heard her right? After everything he’d just told her…after he’d pushed her away and she’d found someone else…she loved him? Him? Christ, he didn’t know whether he was flying high or buried six feet under. How could this be happening now, when being together was no longer possible? “Jiya…”
Moisture glinted in her eyes. “I love you.”
A hoarse sound escaped him.
She jabbed the air between them with a finger. “You love me.”
“Yes. God yes,” he growled, his heartbeat whipping into a frenzy. “I love you more than life. I don’t remember a second that wasn’t filled with love and more love and need for you.” Reality was a cold bucket of water to the face, though it took several beats to come down from the high of her admission. Jiya Dalal. Loved him. “I love you way too much to shackle you to me when I have no way of knowing if I’ll ever be clear of this shit. I couldn’t do that.” He ground the heel of his hand against his sternum in an attempt to stem the pressure. “I would never make you the wife of a man who moves stolen goods. It’s bad enough you’d be married to a murderer. And I for damn certain, sweetheart…couldn’t ask you to give up the restaurant.”
“But if things were different…”
“If things were different,” he laughed, without humor, bitterness clogging his throat. “Do you know what it’s doing to me that I can’t kiss you right now? I’m a fucking shell.” He pulled at the ends of his hair. “I shouldn’t ask, but…has he touched you?”
“No. No,” she whispered. “I couldn’t bear it.”
Relief sped through him, top to bottom. He stumbled toward her, walking her backward without touching her. “Go home before I try and fuck you. Go home before I let this jealousy out. You don’t want to meet it, Jiya. I’m going insane.”
“Insane enough to sell your house,” she hiccupped.
“That’s right.” He inhaled the scent of her shampoo. “I want you to be happy more than anything in the world, but I’m not strong enough to watch it.”
Silence fell between them and he could see thoughts moving behind Jiya’s expressive eyes. Thoughts he was almost afraid for her to vocalize because they might give him hope. Hope could be a dangerous thing. “Isn’t everything supposed to fix itself when two people admit they’re in love?” she asked quietly, her damp gaze slipping to his mouth. “I’m feeling pretty led on by Hollywood right now.”
His laugh was pained. Lord, he wanted to devour her. Wrap her up in his arms and hold on forever. But all he could do was look at her and adore her. This woman would rule his world forever and if he’d done something to make her reciprocate those feelings, even by the smallest fraction, he’d hold on to the satisfaction of that like a miser, treasuring the knowledge.
He heard her swallow. “We’re all in this together now, okay? There’s a way out, we just have to find it.” Lying unspoken between them was the fact that even if he shook Handler, they still couldn’t be together. Not when she’d been handed a golden future with someone else.
As if reading his thoughts, Jiya’s ducked her head. “Good night, Andrew.”
He wrestled back the impulse to bury his fingers in her hair, kiss the breath out of both of them. “Good night, Jiya.”
His hungry eyes tracked her through the window until she was safely inside her house.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jiya stood at the kitchen counter packing up ingredients to bring next door. Over the last half hour, morning light had spread like butter across the floor, warming her bare feet. She’d missed the crackling anticipation of preparing to go next door. Making breakfast with the Prince brothers had been part of her routine for years and, apart from her goodnights with Andrew, a favorite part of her daily routine.
This morning’s anticipation had a sharp edge of trepidation, however, making her hands clumsy. After leaving the Prince house last night, the plan had been to attempt some sleep. But she’d been far too restless. She’d lain awake in her bed until midnight came and went, mentally playing out two versions of her life. In one, she married Ajay. They had a stable life, companionship, children. She woke up every morning and ran the new restaurant, like her mother did now with the original Spice. Flying became a distant memory, but in exchange she made her parents proud and passed on a foundation to her children.
In the other scenario, she married Andrew.
Pinpricks traveled over Jiya’s skin, tickling her scalp. Her pulse skipped and swelled in a crescendo of pumps. The very thought of being his wife made her body vibrate like a tuning fork. Made her heart constrict in her chest. There would be a different kind of stability with Andrew. There would be security within their love. The fact that she was with the person who knew her, through and through. There would be laughter and craziness and passion. Passion beyond words.