She looks at me. “Isn’t this your first trip to London, Miss Singh? Why haven’t you visited before if you claim to be close friends with Gabe?”

What is she trying to prove? Or is she just behaving obnoxious because she can?

I’m unable to hide the scorn from my voice when I speak. “Since when does being friends with someone require you to visit them in their city? Besides, Gabe has visited India several times in the last few years so it was enough to keep our friendship alive.”

“Interesting!” Celia comments dryly.

She gives me a hard, calculating look and then her lips twist in a cruel smile. It makes the hair on my arms rise. My sixth sense warns me to be careful about her. I ignore her and concentrate on finishing the dessert in front of me.

Damien touches my hand bringing my attention back to him. “Aaliya, if you are done, perhaps you could retire upstairs. I need to talk to Celia in private.”

My face falls at his dismissal. A quick glance at Celia and she’s grinning in delight. I toss my napkin on the table and stand up.

Damien

AALIYA’S EXPRESSION saddens as she rises and I regret asking her to leave. But I’m done with Celia’s innuendoes. I need to talk to her and I can’t do that in front of Aaliya.

“Aaliya, wait.”

She pauses and her posture is rigid as she turns.

Walking up to her, I hold her face and kiss her surprised mouth. Well aware I have Celia as an audience, I take my time as I kiss her, ensuring Aaliya is breathless when I release her.

“I’ll be up shortly. Wait for me okay,” I say, loud enough for Celia to hear.

“I will,” she says, giving me a smile over her shoulder. My eyes follow her until she leaves. Only then do I turn and look at Celia.

“Follow me, please,” I proclaim before going to the study.

I lean against the desk with my arms crossed and wait for Celia to stand in front of me. She reaches to close the door behind her but I halt her. “Leave the door open, Celia.”

She narrows her eyes at me, but does as she is told.

We stare at each other in silence for several minutes until I finally speak.  “Why are you here?”

“I didn’t know I needed your permission to visit,” she snaps.

Twice in the space of a few hours, two people have told me the exact same thing. It’s time to set things straight.

“Do not take me for granted, ever.” My tone is ice cold. “In the future, I’d like a prior intimation if you decide to visit.”

“Why? This would have been my home. I’ve always visited when I wanted to.”