Unfortunately, the woman began tearing up again.

“Oh, I’m—I’m so sorry,” Raj added in English before Mina ushered her outside and down the path toward the houses in the distance.

“I don’t understand. Was it something I did or said?”

Mina shook her head. “You spoke to her in Punjabi. That matters to her. She’ll calm down now that Ajay and Hem are working at the main house and we’re not right in front of her face. Ajay gave you the code to his place?”

Raj nodded.

They headed toward the bungalows lined up against the backdrop of shrubbery and idyllic landscaping. Ajay’s place stood in the center, and Raj couldn’t think of anything but how adorable it looked with its front porch and potted plants.

“I don’t know why Ajay lives in the city when he has this,” Raj said.

“I told Hem the same thing. I think the only one who doesn’t really stay on the property often is Zail. Come on. Let’s get set up and start on this offer. Did your legal team send you anything? It’ll be faster if I help.”

Raj punched in the code on the front door and stepped inside to the smell of sandalwood and lavender. The honey-colored wood floors gleamed with polish, and the masculine decor was equally elegant and homey.

At first, being in Ajay’s private space felt invasive, but they were together. They’d agreed to trust each other. This was a part of that . . . wasn’t it?

She walked over to the frames sitting on the mantel under the mounted TV. Ajay and his brothers smiled back at her from the pictures. She didn’t know if his mother had decorated for him, or if he’d taken the time to frame those moments himself. Would he ever frame a picture with her in it?

Raj sat down at his beautiful wood dining table as she thought about the short time they’d shared together. The dinner, the Fire Lounge, the date. She’d opened herself to him. She’d trust him, just like he’d asked her to, and he’d told her that he expected more from her.

He better frame pictures of their time together.

And if he was even thinking about being patronizing and dumping her after he bought her company . . . Well, he’d have bigger problems on his hands than a company mole selling trade secrets.

“Do you want something to drink?” Mina asked as she rounded the kitchen island and pulled out water from the fridge. “He’s pretty stocked, but if you want chai, I can make that, too.”

“No, darling,” Raj said, trying to tamp down her self-righteousness. “Sit. I want to get started.”

Mina complied. “Can I ask you something first?”

“Of course.”