A Bollywood Affair Read Online Free PDF Page A

himself up on his elbow and faced her. His biceps, his delts, his pecs responded to the studied move and bulged obligingly. Neha’s eyes followed the movement, lingering hungrily on skin still slick with massage oil and sweat. Little Sam stirred.
    “I mean like really love-love you.” Her words were a full-blown accusation now.
    The stirring stopped dead in its tracks. No, you don’t. You really love-love what we just did. But telling her that would dial up the drama and Samir saved the drama for his films.
    Women never accepted horniness for what it was—horniness. He’d never understand it. Why had he thought she’d be different? With all that ambition a commitment should’ve been the last thing on her mind. Where were all those users the film industry was supposed to be full of? Why couldn’t he find himself one for a change?
    He placed one finger on her lips, using all his strength to keep his impatience out of his touch. He had to get on with his day. He was going to hear back on the Shivshri Productions project today. It could be the biggest fucking day of his life. Or the worst fucking disappointment. And he had no idea which it was going to be. Just like now. Fucking story of his life.
    “Shh, sweetheart. Don’t. You know how much I like you. But I would never—”
    “You like me?” Dear God, could she please dial down the nasal. “We’ve been together six months, Sam. Six months! And you—you like me?” She shoved him hard and sat up, clutching the silken cotton to those lovely breasts.
    He let his eyes turn smoky—sincere, willing to sacrifice his own needs for her. “Listen, baby, look at you. They’re calling you the next big thing. You can go all the way to number one. You know that. I would never take that from you.”
    The anger flashing in her eyes diffused a little.
    “You know how it works. Now’s the time to focus. Producers won’t touch you if they think you’re settling down. You think I don’t want all your attention? I’m a man, Neha, you think this is easy for me?”
    He must’ve done the hurt look really well because the stubborn set of her jaw softened. She stroked his face. He pulled her fingers to his lips. “I won’t do that to you. I won’t be responsible for letting you waste all that talent.”
    “You’re Sam Rathod—being with you can’t possibly damage my career.”
    “I’m Sam Rathod—a fling with me is great publicity. But if they even suspect a long-term relationship, producers won’t touch you. I’m the Bad Boy, remember? I’m trouble with a capital T. You’ve just had your first hit. It’s a huge one but you know this business. You can’t lose your focus if you want to get to the top.”
    “I don’t care, Sam. I never thought I’d feel this way about anyone. I don’t care about success, about being number one. All I want is to be with you.”
    Holy. Fuck.
    Indian women and their need to go all domestic on you. Once they got into that space there was no reasoning with them. The familiar click that signaled the end of his patience snapped in his head. He pushed himself off the bed and dumped the condom in the trash. He swept up the robe laid neatly on the leather recliner and belted it around his waist. “Listen, Neha, can we talk about this later? It’s a big day for both of us.” He turned around and headed toward the double doors, caressing the carved panels salvaged from the ruins of the Jaipur palace, letting the solidity of the five-hundred-year-old wood calm him.
    “Sam!” Neha called after him.
    He ignored the panic in her voice. “Eggs okay for breakfast?” He grabbed the post that held up the spiral staircase and spun himself onto the stone treads. He loved this staircase, loved the unencumbered openness of it. He’d spent weeks with the architect getting the lines just right. He flew down and landed with practiced ease on the marble floor.
    He heard Neha get off the bed upstairs. Heard her scream and come tearing out of his