“Are you kidding me? We were on the same team today.”
She studied him, trying to place his deep voice. Something niggled at the back of her mind, but after a few hours of drinking, her memories were a little fuzzy. “Sorry. Don’t recognize you. I’m good with faces. Not so good with masks. Excellent with beer funnels, though, so you can cancel that cab. I’ve been doing them for years. I’ve got a special trick where I relax all the muscles in my throat so the beer can slide right down. I could get a fire hose down there and not choke.”
“I . . .” He cleared his throat. “Didn’t need to know that.”
“If you think I need a cab, then you did need to know that.” She gestured toward the bar. “I need to find Maria and let her know she’s down a bridesmaid.”
He lifted his chin in the direction of the restroom door. “Does she need a hand?”
Despite his abrupt manner, the dude had a good heart to go with his looks, Zara decided. He was the whole package. “Thanks, but I’ve got it under control.” She walked down the hallway, acutely aware of the gorgeous man following slightly behind her. “Your concern is a refreshing change from the douchebag I was paired up with on the field this afternoon. Talk about bossy. He thought he knew everything about paintball.”
She stopped as they emerged into the bar, hoping he would continue on his way. He was too attractive, oozing power and confidence with every step. For a woman who had sworn off men, he was a dangerous temptation.
“Maybe he did know everything about paintball.” He frowned again, his voice clipped and hard.
“I doubt it,” Zara said. “Even if he was a pro, I can’t stand guys like that. I’ll bet he’s one of those wannabe military types who spends his weekends playing paintball with his geek friends, pretending he’s the real deal. It was sad, really. He clearly wasn’t good with strategy. You can’t win by doing what everyone else is doing, but he wasn’t interested in hearing what anyone else had to say.”
“ ‘Wannabe military’ ?” He gritted out the words like they were a personal offense.
Zara felt a prickle of unease when his brow creased, but it was too late to backtrack now. “You know who I’m talking about. The guys who love the idea of serving our country but don’t have the balls to enlist . . .” She trailed off when his scowl deepened. “Is he a friend of yours?”
“Not exactly.” He walked slightly ahead of her, clearing a path through the crowd with a calm competence that made her feel curiously safe.
“I’ve been looking all over for you.” Parvati intercepted them a few steps away from the bar. “Maria’s going to try the funnel. You have to come and cheer her on.”
“I can’t.” Zara watched Parvati’s attention focus on the man beside her. “I have to look after Stacy. She’s all partied out for the night.”
Parvati held out her hand to Zara’s companion. “Parvati Chopra. Currently single.”
“Jay Dayal . . .” He shook her hand, his gaze sliding to Zara, lips curling in a smirk. “Otherwise known as the douchebag.”
Zara sucked in a sharp breath. Why had she not recognized him? It was all right there staring her in the face. The height. The muscular chest. The thick biceps. And that voice. She’d definitely had too much to drink. “My apologies.” She swallowed hard. “If I’d known it was you, I would have kept my opinions to myself.”
“I think that’s highly unlikely,” he said bluntly. “In the short time we’ve known each other, you haven’t kept your opinions about anything to yourself.”
Ah. For a moment there, she thought she’d misjudged him. “How’s the injury?” Her lips quivered at the corners. “I’ve never shot anyone in the ass before. Does it hurt?”
His brow lifted. “I don’t feel anything.”
“How apropos.”
Was that the ghost of a smile she saw on his lips? Or the start of another frown? She had never seen him smile, she realized. It was probably a good thing. He was already far too attractive. A smile might force her to overlook his prickly personality and lure him into her bed.
“We’ve ordered a few bottles of champagne to celebrate Zara’s big run to the finish,” Parvati said, misunderstanding the situation. “Do you want to join us?”
“Thank you, but I’ve got other plans.” His gaze flicked to Zara, his eyes lingering on her mouth.
Desire, unwanted and unbidden, smoldered inside her. Gritting her teeth, she spoke with a calm that she didn’t feel in the least. “None of them even half as interesting as what I’m going to do tonight.”
Determined to get away before she lost all self-control, she turned for the bar only to see her aunt standing in the doorway beside a tall, skinny dude with a lollipop head.
“Oh my God.” She grabbed Parvati’s arm. “Bushra Auntie is here. Someone must have told her about the after-party. I need to hide.”
“It’s too late,” Parvati said. “She saw you. She’s walking this way.”
An amused smile tugged at Jay’s lips. “I’m glad to see I’m not the only one who suffers the attention of matchmaking aunties during the wedding season. Fortunately, I’m only half-desi so they consider me a second-rate candidate.”
On impulse, Zara grabbed his wrist. “You can’t go. We need you to run interference.”
He stiffened and she realized that she’d pulled him close. Too close. She could feel the heat of his body against her skin, draw in his scent of cool dark forests and fresh mountain air. His pulse beat strong and steady beneath her fingertips, sending a current of electricity arcing through her veins.
“You need me.” A knowing smirk curved his lips.
Nothing annoyed Zara more than that look of smug male arrogance. She took a deep breath, expelling it softly as she released his wrist. The fog of desire lifted and her mind cleared.
“Actually, I don’t,” she said in a firm voice. “I had an uncharacteristic moment of panic but I’m over it now. I should have expected my aunts to find me. I’m used to dealing with them during the wedding season. They have a competition each year to see who can make the most matches. No holds barred.”
“My mother mentioned their competition.” He shook his head. “I never imagined . . .”
“Yes, well . . . Welcome to my life.” Tilting her head, she forced a smile. “Thank you for the offer to call me a cab. As you can see, I’m quite well. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a potential suitor to meet.” Bracing herself for the oncoming storm, she left him by the bar and walked toward Bushra Auntie and the poor man who had no doubt been dragged to the party with the promise of a bride.