Jaya’s cheeks flamed. She’d spoken out loud by accident and now Grey Emerson looked extremely pleased with himself. “You wish,” she snapped, before she could think better of it.

Grey’s lips twitched. He was trying not to laugh. Insufferable.

Jaya closed her eyes for a moment, letting her irritation float away. When she opened them, she realized couples all over the rooftop were coming together. Rihanna had morphed into some romantic ballad she hadn’t heard yet. Damage control, that’s what she needed. She was letting him ruffle her too easily, and she needed to get back to playing the part of insipid love interest.

Putting on her most bashful, charming smile, she said, “Grey?”

He looked at her.

“I’d love to dance.” She cleared her throat delicately. “As friends, of course.”

“Dance?” he said abruptly, as if the concept was alien to him.

“Yes,” Jaya said, reaching for his hand slowly. He didn’t pull away when she entwined her fingers with his.

They stared at each other for a long moment, assessing, she the trainer, he the wild horse. Just when Jaya was sure he was about to pull his hand from hers, he set his glass down on a nearby table and led her to the dance floor, his face impassive.

Grey

Grey didn’t know exactly what had come over him, why he’d listened to Jaya Rao. Maybe it was something about the fiery passion in her dark eyes when she spoke about her sister, the way she’d turned on him, breathing hard, hair blowing in the breeze, brown skin glowing golden by the lights on the rooftop. Her scent kept wafting over to him, florals and spice, and he had a hard time concentrating. Or maybe it was because he was getting to her. And for some reason, that pleased him.

He should keep his distance from Jaya. She was a Rao, for one, and that pendant around her neck was another reminder of why this was a bad idea. And also, just like she’d said, he tended to talk more when he was around her. It was like all the thoughts he usually kept inside himself, like mismatched socks in a forgotten drawer, came tumbling out, eager for companionship and pairing. Yeah, he definitely should keep his distance from her.

But when he felt her small, soft hand in his… How long had it been since he’d had any genuine human contact? Since any person had shown more than a passing interest in him, in being near him, in wanting him in their immediate proximity? He was like a starving man who’d just been offered a delicious morsel of food. Pathetic.