Of Curses and Kisses Page 12

  “Oh, crap!” Samantha said, her blue eyes going wide. She was holding a plate filled with hors d’oeuvres in her hands. “I’m so sorry, Grey. I didn’t see you there.”

  Jaya kept her eyes on Grey, desperately wanting to go back to their conversation. Damn it. He’d been about to say more—she’d felt it. But he was looking at Samantha bloody Wickers now, and the moment was shattered.

  Leo materialized right behind Samantha, as if he were a ghost and Sam the Ouija board. He grinned appreciatively (and, Jaya was sure, what he thought of as “winningly”) at her, but Samantha seemed rather oblivious to Leo’s presence.

  “Would anyone like a taste?” Samantha said, smiling around at all the people nearby, holding up the tray of crackers with jam or cheese on them. Samantha’s mother was the owner of the Wickers Jam empire, and according to Daphne Elizabeth, they had more money than a small European country. She thrust the tray at Grey, and more out of a wish to protect his face rather than an actual desire to taste the food, Jaya thought, Grey took one.

  Jaya took one too, just to be polite, even though what she really wanted was to take that plate from Samantha and fling it over the railing into the blackness beyond. “Mm,” she said, nodding.

  Samantha beamed at Grey and Jaya. Behind her, Leo’s brow furrowed. Samantha still hadn’t noticed him or offered him a cracker. “Peach champagne jam on brie. I helped my mom’s company come up with the flavor this summer.” She turned to Grey. “What do you think?”

  “I think I don’t like peach. Or brie,” Grey said curtly.

  Jaya struggled not to stare. Did he have no social training whatsoever?

  Samantha’s face darkened. “Well, I think that’s just ru—”

  Leo lunged forward, pushing Jaya slightly aside. He grabbed the remaining crackers off Samantha’s plate and shoved them in his mouth as Grey and Jaya watched, agog. “Do not listen to Grey, Sam. He does not know what he is speaking of. Mon dieu,” he said with his mouth full, “these are incroyable, Samantha! Well done! What is your secret! You must share it with me!”

  “I…” Samantha looked down at her plate and then at Leo, who was staring at Samantha with what could only be described as a feverish light in his eyes as he crunched away. Jaya hid a smile behind her hand.

  “Sam!” a girl called from across the rooftop. “Come here a sec!”

  Samantha tossed a final, bewildered “what’s wrong with you” glance at Leo and Grey, then walked off. Leo watched her go, his face sagging.

  Jaya drank a huge gulp of punch and said, “That was… interesting.”

  “I was flirting!” Leo said, waving his hands around. “I was being interested in what she is interested in! Is this not how you win over people?”

  Jaya stared at him. “That was… flirting?”

  Leo frowned a little. “Oui,” he said, a little uncertainly. “Did it not… come through that way?”

  “Well, not exactly…,” Jaya said.

  Leo sighed. “I do not understand.”

  “It’s okay,” Jaya said sympathetically. “Dating is really complicated.” Unwittingly, she tossed Grey a look—only to find he was looking at her, too.

  “Perhaps,” Leo said, oblivious to the two of them. “I suppose I will go get a drink.” He walked off, his shoulders hunched and sad.

  Jaya turned to Grey, a small smile at her lips. “So…”

  Before she could formulate a diplomatic question to steer the conversation back to Grey and his family, Isha came walking up and wrapped her arms around Jaya’s waist. “Hello!” she said to Grey, who nodded back at her. After the sushi-dinner bonding exercise, they seemed to be on fairly good terms.

  Jaya smiled. “Hi, Ish.”

  “I want you to meet my friend,” Isha said, gesturing behind her.

  Jaya noticed Elliot standing behind her. “Oh, hello.” She held out a hand. “I’m Jaya Rao.”

  “Elliot Brown,” he said, shaking her hand. His grip was firm and dry. Impressive. She’d met heads of state whose handshakes felt like playing that Halloween game where you stuck your hands into bowls with your eyes closed and tried to guess what disgustingly slimy object you were touching. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Guess what?” Isha burst in breathlessly, before Elliot was fully finished speaking. “I’m switching from study hall to robotics engineering.”

  Jaya stared at her younger sister, who had clearly lost her grip on reality. “We talked about that, Isha,” she said, careful to keep her expression smooth and her voice cordial. It was something she’d had to practice over the years. People, she’d come to realize, did not want to see princesses fighting or bickering or being petty. They wanted to see a royal family calm and in control, always civil and smiling. “Remember? You don’t want to”—her eyes darted to Elliot—“overburden yourself with robotics. Besides, isn’t it too late to swap now, nearly two weeks into the semester?”

  “No, it’s not,” Isha said, grinning at Elliot. “Elliot convinced me to talk to Dr. Waverly”—she pointed vaguely toward the French doors—“and she said she wanted me to be ‘adequately challenged.’ She could see from my entrance tests that I had ‘quite the aptitude for science and technology.’ So she’s making an exception.” Isha squealed and clutched Elliot, who looked equally thrilled. “Isn’t it great, Jaya?”

  “Oh, so it was Elliot who moved this along,” Jaya bit out, still smiling, though she thought she could feel the points of her canines gleaming. Clueless Elliot who had absolutely no idea how much her sister needed to lie low and not generate more gossip with her robotics classes and friendships with boys. This would be fabulous news for virtually anyone else, but Isha could never return to the Rao estate and practice robotics engineering. “How lucky for us. Would you excuse us a moment? I need to speak with my sister.” She grabbed Isha by the elbow.

  “Why?” Isha said, glaring at Jaya now, probably having sensed where she was going with this. “Don’t you have people from your own grade to talk to?”

  Jaya was opening her mouth to issue a stern warning about disrespecting your elders when Grey’s voice cut across hers.

  “It’s a great idea,” he said behind her.

  Jaya turned slowly, still smiling through her rising temper. Never in her life had she met anyone who could get under her skin like Grey Emerson. He was a very tall, extremely well-dressed splinter. It was beginning to give her a headache. “I beg your pardon?”

  “It makes more sense to take a heavier class load your sophomore and junior years, so you have a lighter senior year,” Grey said. “Plus, Isha clearly has a natural talent for robotics. She knows a lot more than most Robotics I students do at this time of year, so she won’t be behind.”

  “That’s exactly what I said!” Elliot beamed, apparently proud of himself for having thought the same way as Grey Emerson.

  “Smart,” Grey answered in an offhand way, and Elliot looked like he was ready to pop with pride, like one of those poisonous puffer fish.

  “Okay,” Jaya said, still trying to be congenial even though the vein in her temple felt like it was going to explode. “But we just transferred in, and I don’t want Isha overdoing it.” She made a meaningful face at her thickheaded little sister. “Remember when we talked about that… sweetheart?”

  “You worry too much,” Grey said from behind her.

  Jaya snapped her head around to glare at him. What? What? Who did he think he was, the worry police? What concern was it of his if she fretted over her only sister? Like he should even talk after what his family—

  “Yeah, you worry too much,” Isha said. “Ooh, is that the new Rihanna song?” she added suddenly, because obviously she had the attention span of a gnat. Grabbing Elliot’s arm, she dragged him off to the dance floor, saying, “Let’s get the whole group to dance together!”

  Jaya watched her go for a moment and then put her fingers to her temples.

  “May I suggest a pair of clamps to cut the cord?” Grey said, and she heard the derisi
on in his voice.

  She turned to him. “Forgive me for caring about my sister’s reputation,” she said more harshly than she’d intended. If the intention was to seduce him, fighting with him certainly wasn’t the way.

  There was a pause during which Jaya tried to get her breathing back under control. Don’t let him get under your skin, Jaya. Burrowing is for leeches, not tall, handsome British aristocrats.

  Grey smirked. “So I’m a handsome leech?”

  Jaya’s cheeks flamed. She’d spoken out loud by accident and now Grey Emerson looked extremely pleased with himself. “You wish,” she snapped, before she could think better of it.

  Grey’s lips twitched. He was trying not to laugh. Insufferable.

  Jaya closed her eyes for a moment, letting her irritation float away. When she opened them, she realized couples all over the rooftop were coming together. Rihanna had morphed into some romantic ballad she hadn’t heard yet. Damage control, that’s what she needed. She was letting him ruffle her too easily, and she needed to get back to playing the part of insipid love interest.

  Putting on her most bashful, charming smile, she said, “Grey?”

  He looked at her.

  “I’d love to dance.” She cleared her throat delicately. “As friends, of course.”

  “Dance?” he said abruptly, as if the concept was alien to him.

  “Yes,” Jaya said, reaching for his hand slowly. He didn’t pull away when she entwined her fingers with his.

  They stared at each other for a long moment, assessing, she the trainer, he the wild horse. Just when Jaya was sure he was about to pull his hand from hers, he set his glass down on a nearby table and led her to the dance floor, his face impassive.

  Grey

  Grey didn’t know exactly what had come over him, why he’d listened to Jaya Rao. Maybe it was something about the fiery passion in her dark eyes when she spoke about her sister, the way she’d turned on him, breathing hard, hair blowing in the breeze, brown skin glowing golden by the lights on the rooftop. Her scent kept wafting over to him, florals and spice, and he had a hard time concentrating. Or maybe it was because he was getting to her. And for some reason, that pleased him.

  He should keep his distance from Jaya. She was a Rao, for one, and that pendant around her neck was another reminder of why this was a bad idea. And also, just like she’d said, he tended to talk more when he was around her. It was like all the thoughts he usually kept inside himself, like mismatched socks in a forgotten drawer, came tumbling out, eager for companionship and pairing. Yeah, he definitely should keep his distance from her.

  But when he felt her small, soft hand in his… How long had it been since he’d had any genuine human contact? Since any person had shown more than a passing interest in him, in being near him, in wanting him in their immediate proximity? He was like a starving man who’d just been offered a delicious morsel of food. Pathetic.

  He walked out onto the dance floor, aware that Jaya was close behind. When he turned to her, her eyes met his with a hint of apprehension, as if she were just as aware as him that this was possibly a very bad idea. But she stepped closer to him anyway.

  Grey’s arm snaked around Jaya’s waist, his fingers resting loosely on her bare back. Her skin was like sun-drenched silk, whisper-soft and almost burning with heat. She stepped in closer, her hand reaching high to perch on his shoulder, her small body brushing his. The sky was a cupped hand above them, sprinkling stars that glimmered in Jaya’s thick black hair.

  The music tinkled, and she floated in his arms silently. Grey knew he was a good dancer—it came naturally to him—and she let herself be guided along, her feet keeping up with his.

  Jaya

  Well, it was now or never. If she wanted to move the plan forward, opportunities didn’t get much more perfect than dancing cheek to cheek. “You’re a good dancer,” Jaya said, looking up at him from under her eyelashes. That was sexy and flirtatious, wasn’t it? “Your past girlfriends must’ve really loved that.”

  Grey’s fingers increased their pressure just very slightly on her bare back, and goose bumps sprouted on Jaya’s arms and legs. Yes, he has manly hands Yes, his shoulders are really nice and he’s towering over you in a rather sexy way, but, dear brain, can you please focus on the task at hand?

  “I don’t have any past girlfriends,” Grey replied.

  Jaya didn’t know what to make of that. “You… you don’t have any past girlfriends?” Then understanding dawned. “You mean to say you’ve never dated?”

  “Correct.” Looking at some spot over her head and in the distance, he added, “And I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t want to date.”

  She stutter-stepped. He just looked at her, impassive as always. “You don’t want to date… this semester?”

  He twirled her once, and when she was face-to-face with him again, said, “Ever.”

  “Oh.” Jaya frowned. “But… why?”

  “I just don’t date.” But the way he said it, his eyes over her head once more, his mouth set in a thin line, made her think he meant he couldn’t date. Her gut told her it had something to do with what he was beginning to say earlier, about not speaking with his family. Intriguing.

  “Did you hear that?” he said suddenly, his head cocked.

  Taken slightly aback by the change in topic, Jaya shook her head. “Hear what? If you mean the music, I think everyone hears it.”

  His eyes dropped to her pendant. Her smile faded as she saw the look on his face. It reminded her of that time in the dining hall—the same look of shock, of disbelief. “Two more rubies,” he said, his voice strangled. “Two more rubies have fallen.”

  Jaya’s gaze automatically dropped to her pendant. “Oh no,” she said, gently touching the empty sockets. “I’ve been thinking about just leaving this in my room until I can take it to a jeweler to get repaired—”

  But when she looked up at him, he was shaking his head. “I was dancing with you,” he said, “and then two more rubies fell.”

  “I’m not sure when they fell, exactly…,” Jaya said, not seeing the connection. She was about to ask him to explain what he meant when Daphne Elizabeth rushed by, looking nervous. The last strains of the song rang out at the same time, and a freckle-faced boy in her literature class—Adam? Alan?—came up and tapped Grey on the shoulder. “May I cut in?” he asked, smiling at Jaya.

  No, you may not! Jaya wanted to yell. But she was fairly sure Aiden was the son of some famous diplomat.

  Grey stepped wordlessly back to let the boy take his place.

  Jaya forced her frustration down and let the new boy take her hand. Grey disappeared toward the far corner of the balcony.

  As Jaya let herself be swept around in a waltz, her gaze snagged on Daphne Elizabeth again, who was now covertly looking over one shoulder and stepping through the French doors and into the interior of the building. Jaya scanned the rooftop. Caterina was engrossed in conversation with a group of other seniors, and Alaric was nowhere to be found.

  When the song ended and the boy (Albert??) bowed deeply at his waist and took his leave, Jaya walked to the corner of the balcony where she’d seen Grey disappearing to.

  He was gone, like some kind of superhero afraid of being unmasked. But why? They’d been talking and connecting—as much as Grey Emerson was capable of connecting with people, anyway. Jaya had felt like she was finally getting somewhere with him. And not just that, but she was finding herself… rather intrigued by Grey and whatever secrets he held so closely. Also, what had he been saying about the missing rubies in her pendant?

  “Have you seen Grey?” Jaya asked Samantha Wickers, who was talking to a very tall girl in a killer Alexander McQueen, but she shook her head.

  She looked around the rooftop, feeling uncertain, as she usually did after a conversation with Grey Emerson. Like she was two steps behind in a very complicated dance. Jaya let out a breath. What now? Well, she kind of had to visit the ladies’ room. Perhaps she could take a mo
ment to do that and regroup.

  She sought out Isha, who was now gulping down water, spilling some of it down the front of her dress. Her hair was disheveled and sweaty from all the “dancing” she’d been doing. Clearly Isha had no interest in reforming her ways. Robotics engineering, flirting with that boy, dancing completely inappropriately. Why did Isha care so much about such trivial things? Why couldn’t she just conform?

  There were so many things Jaya wanted to say, but she wouldn’t say them now. She didn’t want to make a scene. Besides, she was a little… weary. Taking care of Isha, making sure she didn’t do yet another unsuitable thing, shielding her from another impending scandal, was a full-time job. And sometimes, very occasionally, Jaya felt a little resentful of all that responsibility. Sometimes she caught herself thinking, I’m only eighteen. I really don’t care about whether or not Isha’s skirt is too short. Let her do whatever she damn well pleases.

  Only very rarely, and only when she wasn’t thinking clearly, obviously.

  “I’m going to the ladies’ room,” she said to Isha now. “Will you be okay for a few minutes?”

  Isha waved at her. “Yeah, that’s fine—oh my God, did Stewart just stuff an entire tray of salmon mousse canapés into his mouth?” She squealed and ran over to her friends.

  Sighing, Jaya walked to the French doors.

  Grey

  Two more rubies. Two more rubies were gone. And it had happened when he was dancing with Jaya Rao. As if the old Rao matriarch were laughing at him. It wasn’t a coincidence; it couldn’t be. The pendant had to be the one. Grey pushed his hair back, angry. What kind of world was this, where he was held responsible for the repugnant actions of his ancestors?

  He groaned in agonized frustration as he strode off, pissed at himself. Why had he danced with her? Why had he even come to this fucking mixer in the first place?

  Grey followed the twists and turns of the West Wing blindly, letting his furiousness with himself guide him. His hands shook; he had a problem when it came to Jaya Rao. He always said too much. He felt like he was constantly on the verge of blurting everything out, like his lips were a faltering dam against his words. He remembered his father saying, all those years ago, You’re… different. You’ll always be different. The Raos have seen to that. This is your burden to bear.