He turned up the house music on his radio as he reminisced on the way Raj had looked when he saw her at the Ice Palace. She was magnificent. From the moment he walked into the Fire Lounge, he’d known that any doubt in his mind about her didn’t stand a chance against how much he wanted her. She’d taken his breath away as she sat framed in the lights pulsing through the window, with her bare legs crossed, her arms spread out on the back of the sofa. He was infuriated by the thought of someone else touching her, but his only option was to make his case and convince her that he was the only man for her.

For now, anyway.

Ajay was lucky that there was a hydrant right in front of her brownstone entrance. After pulling into the small opening, he rounded the car just as she exited her building.

He’d imagined she’d wear something elegant and chic like her office attire, but what emerged was something so much better.

Her feet were covered in open-toed ankle boots, and her legs were encased in slim-fit jeans. Her gorgeous head of thick hair was tied up in a messy topknot, which went with the strappy floral blouse and the tiny black rectangular purse that hung low on her hip. She stood at the top of her stairs, smiling down at him. The smooth, sultry expression had his pulse jumping.

“Do I pass muster for first-date attire?”

“Come down here and ask me,” he said.

She took her time, leisurely descending her short staircase. Her feet grazed the sidewalk before he swooped her up in a kiss.

There she is, he thought as he sank into the feel of her. When her hands slid over his shoulders and into his hair, he knew that if he didn’t stop now, they’d end up in her house for the rest of the night.

Ajay leaned back and wiped a thumb over his bottom lip. “I look forward to more of that later.”

“Maybe I do, too,” she said smoothly, but he could tell by the rise and fall of her chest that she’d been as affected as he had. Good.

“Come on. We’re going to get stuck in traffic as it is, and we don’t want to miss some truly excellent chole.”

“Is that the type of Indian food we’re eating? Punjabi food?” she asked as she slipped into the passenger seat of his low-slung car. She ran a hand over the plush interior. “This is a damn nice vehicle for a casual date where we’re both going to eat with our hands.”