Page 95 of Cross the Line
Following Dev around the world has brought colour into my life. Colour I didn’t know was missing. I never thought I’d find my passion in the world of motor racing. It’s always been part of my life, my brother’s dream until he decided it wasn’t, and something I thought wasn’t for me due to a myriad of reasons. But itisfor me, and I don’t want to leave it. I certainly don’t want to leave Dev.
The universe must know how desperate I am to stay with him, or at least to get my fill of him before we’re officially parted, because there he is standing outside my bedroom door. He’s leaning against the doorframe, phone in hand, wearing a green kurta that matches the colour of my lehenga so perfectly it’s like they were cut from the same cloth.
My feet are moving before I even know what I’m doing. As if he can sense me there, he looks up from his phone. And then he smiles.
Yeah. There’s no way I could ever walk away from this man.
I’m beside him a second later, drinking him in from head to toe. ‘Wow, you look . . .’
He straightens up. I swear he even puffs out his chest a little.
‘Handsome?’ he supplies for me. ‘Dashing? Hot as fuck?’
‘Wrong,’ I lie. ‘I was going to say like a leprechaun.’
‘That is rude for so many reasons that I don’t have time to get into.’
As much as I want to admire him and banter, I’m struck with nerves. He’s here waiting for me out in the open where anyone with a bedroom down this hallway could see. Oakley, thankfully, is staying in the house next door with the rest of the guys, but any number of people could catch us.
‘What are you doing here?’ I ask, lowering my voice and glancing over my shoulder to make sure we’re alone.
Dev’s unconcerned. His signature grin is in place, and his body is relaxed. ‘I was sent to escort you and your parents across the street to the party.’
‘I’m pretty sure we could have found our way,’ I point out, but I relax a little. At least he has a valid reason to be here.
‘Better safe than sorry. I’ve been told there are some crazy brown people in this neighbourhood.’
I scoff at his terrible joke and shake my head. Then, emboldened, I open my door and tug him in with me.
‘You’ll have to wait to be our escort,’ I tell him once we’re inside. ‘As you can see, I’m not dressed.’
He gives me a thorough once-over, taking in every inch, even though I’m wearing yet another simple pink sundress, something he’s seen me in a thousand times before. And yet he looks at me like it’s the first time, assessing every curve and inch of skin on display.
I flush under the attention and turn away. If I let myself bask in it, we won’t be getting anywhere on time.
Grabbing the lehenga choli hanging up in the closet, I move to the bathroom. ‘I’ll be right back.’
But Dev catches my wrist. ‘No point being modest, baby. Pretty sure I’ve already seen you naked – a few times. And I can help you with the ties on your lehenga.’
He’s not wrong on either count, so . . . fuck it.
I shove the outfit at him and pull my sundress off over my head.
Even though he was the one who suggested I change in front of him, his jaw goes slack, and he’s back to studying me as I stand before him in just my skimpy lace underwear. Last night, when I didn’t think anyone would see what I had on underneath, I’d gone for basic cotton. I certainly wasn’t going to make that mistake again today.
‘I see you’re not fond of bras,’ Dev murmurs as he drags his focus back up to my face.
I shrug, revelling in the way he’s trying to resist staring at the peaks of my nipples. ‘No point, really. Not like I’ve got that much going on.’
His voice is hoarse when he says, ‘Oh, you’ve got enough.’
I grin as I nod to the choli. ‘Help me, yeah?’
It takes a beat or two before he gains enough wits to pull the blouse off the hanger and motion for me to lift my arms. I do as I’m told, then he steps forward. As he pulls the top carefully over my head, I close my eyes and soak in the warmth of him.
‘Your mehndi looks fantastic,’ he murmurs. He doesn’t back away once my choli is in place. ‘Very dark. It means someone loves you a lot.’
My eyes reopen. ‘You smudged it, you know.’
