If You Could Stay

19. Kartik

There's a knock on my door before Inaya walks into my office. She drops an envelope onto my desk.

"It's the demo of the magazine. It just needs your approval before we give the publishers the okay to officially publish it."

I glance at the brown envelope before nodding. Inaya hesitates before my desk. I glance up at her.

"What is it?"

She holds her tablet to her chest. "Should I call Miss Singhania in to look at the demo also? It is also her project."

My jaw clenches at the thought of seeing Naira. I haven't seen her since returning from the photoshoot. As irate as I was at being coerced into the photoshoot, I admit, I may have been a little harsh on her. Every time I close my eyes, the vision of the pain that flashed in her eyes when I told her she wasn't fit to be a CEO, haunts me.

I was wrong, of course. After finding out that the Signhania Diamonds project was being run by Naira, and not her brother Naksh, I know without a doubt that there's no one better suited for the CEO position than her. So then why did I lash out like that? It's like whenever I'm in her presence, my carefully constructed composure crumbles away, leaving me exposed to all these raw emotions. She makes me feel. And I despise it.

The computer mouse under my hand groans from the increased pressure of my hold.

That infuriating woman. With her stubbornness, the fire in her eyes, that beautiful smile that she directs to everyone except me--

"Mr. Goenka?"

I clear my throat and return my focus to my computer screen. "You can leave now, Inaya."

Inaya lets out a resigned sigh before exiting the room. My eyes drift back to the brown envelope. With a sigh, I press the intercom on my phone and dial Inaya.

"Send a message to Miss Singhania's office."

~~~~~~~

One hour later, there's a knock on my office door, but I don't need to ask to know who it is.

"Let her inside, Inaya."

I hear the clicking of heels before they stop in front of my desk. I look up to see Naira, her face ever so professional. No hint of the ire from the day inside her dressing room. Her hair is clipped in some sort of elegant twist on the back of her head and she wears a navy blue dress that molds to the curves of her waist.

I point to the chair opposite me. "Have a seat."

She does and I slide the manila envelope towards her. I still have not opened it since Inaya dropped it off. Giving me a scrutinizing look, she opens the envelope and takes the pictures out. It's small, but I notice the way her eyebrows rise a fraction of an inch and her lips part ever so slightly as she sifts through the photos. On their own accord, my legs carry me out of my chair and around the desk to stand behind her chair. I look down at the pictures in her hand.

They're stunning. Most of them feature the jewelry Naira was wearing, but some photos show our faces. Like the one where I'm kneeling in front of Naira, her foot balanced on my knee. Naira pauses on one photo. In it, my hand is gripping the kamarband around Naira's waist. At that moment, I couldn't see her expression because she was turned away from me. But it's clear as day now. The blush on her cheeks, the rise of her chest as if she took a sharp breath, the heat in her eyes.

A knock on the door breaks the heavy silence and Naira scrambles to put the photos back inside the envelope. I get back to my seat as Inaya enters with a drink in her hand. I nod and she places it in front of Naira.