“No need to get all fiery. A brownstone is a statement home. It’s commonly associated with old money, with class and distinction. A penthouse is for the artists and the new-money types. To establish a business in a man’s world, you needed distinction, not artistry. My father did the heavy lifting for my family. Created a compound in New Jersey. That’s why I could do whatever the hell I wanted. No one cares where I live or what that says about me. Not yet, anyway.”

“That’s remarkably . . . astute,” Raj said. She put her wineglass down on the counter, then walked over to the kitchen sink to wash her hands. “Is there anything I can do? Please say no, since I’m a terrible cook.”

“No.” Ajay grinned. “It’s almost ready. Not into cooking?”

“No. I brought over my family housekeeper. He does everything for me, including keeping me fed. I’d think you’d have someone like that, too.”

“I prefer things this way.” He dipped a spoon in the masala sauce, blew on it, then held it out for Raj to taste. “Tell me what you think.”

Ajay slipped the spoon between her plump, naked lips. Her eyes drifted closed in pleasure. “Mmm,” she moaned. The throaty sound had his dick hardening painfully in a second.

“You made it spicy,” she said.

“Too hot?” His voice turned gruff, but he didn’t care.

“No. It’s perfect. Ajay, you are full of surprises.”

Her tongue wet her top lip in a slow, sweeping motion.

His control snapped. He tossed the spoon he was holding into the sink with a resounding clatter and, without a word of warning, yanked her to him and pressed his mouth against hers.

She tasted delicious. Spicy and sweet. Rich and sharp from the wine. Her mouth was pliant and soft under his as he bowed over her, desperate to consume that first taste. She opened under him, her tongue meeting his even as her fingers dove into his hair and his arms wrapped around her waist. Ajay took, tasting her, drowning, desperate for more.

When she slanted her mouth against his, pressing impossibly closer, he growled and lifted her inches off the ground so his erection could nestle at the juncture of her thighs.

They moaned in unison from the delicious feel of fitting together, before Raj pulled back.

“I said I wouldn’t sleep with you,” she whispered, out of breath and sounding desperate. Her eyes dropped to his mouth and she kissed him. Once. Twice. Again, with a hint of teeth.

“I haven’t asked you to.”

“Then you should probably let me go.”

Slowly, knowing that he was torturing them both, he let her slide down the length of his body until she was on her feet again.

She stepped back, adjusted her dress, and straightened her ponytail. “Really, Ajay?” She sounded shaky, just like he felt. “You feed me, and that’s all it takes?”