Incense and Sensibility (The Rajes #3) - Sonali Dev Page 0,41

do.”

She moved the basket she was using for the shelled peas closer to him and he dropped the peas into it.

“Is that why you’re here? Because you think I have the answers?”

They both reached for the same peapod, fingers almost brushing.

“I was led to believe that you do.”

The pod was cool and smooth in her fingers; she clutched it tighter even as his grip got firmer. “Something tells me that if I gave you the answers, you’d have a harder time accepting them than if you came up with them yourself.”

His gaze fell to where their fingers were fighting over a vegetable, where heat was sparking between their skin. His voice got low, determined, filled with something she couldn’t quite identify, but it sent the spark between their fingers racing up her arm. “Are you trying to tell me that I have control issues?”

Chapter Nine

India let the peapod go, and Yash felt an absurd sense of loss. Of all things, asking her if she thought he had control issues was the question that shook her. Pushing the basket of peas at him, she picked up a zucchini and tried not to look self-conscious.

How had he never noticed that so many vegetables were phallic in shape?

This time she placed it on the cutting board with a little more gentleness. Then she sent the knife slicing across it with the controlled movements of a professional chef. It wasn’t in the least bit surprising. India Dashwood was the kind of person who did everything as though it were a precise art.

What did I say? he wanted to ask. But already he’d said everything that had popped into his head. Something he never did. He’d told her about his uncle. He’d never told anyone else that.

Maybe it was the tapping of the knife. Maybe it was a hypnotic trick to loosen the tongue.

“You think this is about control,” he said finally, and just saying the words, acknowledging them, made something far too powerful move inside him, even as that same thing darkened her eyes.

Was she proud of him? Impressed? Why was the impact of it the same as if she had pinned a medal to his chest and then dropped a kiss on it?

Turning away, she dumped the chopped zucchini into the soup and spooned in some powdered spices. Her pale yellow yoga shirt formed a complicated pattern of crisscrossing bands across her back. The need for her to turn around and face him again was a tug deep inside him.

The way he felt when she did turn to him again made alarm bells clang in his head. Before she could speak, he raised a hand to stop her. “Please don’t turn the question back on me.”

“Fine.” A stray pea had stayed stuck to a pod in the basket. She eased it out, carefully, thoughtfully. “Why did you agree to your family’s demand that you come and see me?”

“I’m sorry?”

She popped the pea in her mouth and met his eyes again. Her eyes were an almost black brown, her irises so unusually large that they gave her beauty an uncommon blend of wisdom and innocence. It was her eyes, with their lack of armor, that had disarmed him years ago. Here it still was, the naked vulnerability that had drawn him in. Was she afraid of nothing?

“Ashna was probably the one who suggested it and Trisha and Nisha probably agreed that I might be able to help you. But you wouldn’t have come unless you wanted to. What scared you enough that you agreed to come?”

Fair. Enough.

“I told you the last time I was here. I tried to get on a stage at a rally and I couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t how?” The sparkling brown of her eyes changed when something caught at her thoughts. What he’d just admitted had clearly snagged at her sympathy, and naturally those transparent eyes showed it.

“Couldn’t because my legs wouldn’t move and my heart felt like it was going to race right out of my chest. It felt like, well, I felt like I had disappeared into myself. Like I wasn’t even there.”

“And you’ve never been afraid of getting on a stage before?”

“Hell, no.” It was embarrassing how much he loved it. Laying out his plans and policies, explicating problems and their solutions. Watching the audience react to his words. Reaching out. People never really understood how much you needed to love campaigning to run for any kind of office.

“So you felt out of control,” she said softly, as though she