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The Singles Table (Marriage Game #3)(81)

Author:Sara Desai

Jay made a mental note to thank the guard downstairs. If the dude hadn’t been so easily distracted, Jay might not have had the chance to see Zara tonight.

“So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head.

Zara put her bag on the chair across from his desk and pulled out a file folder. “Since our arrangement is back on, I’ve got some possible matches for you to consider.”

“I thought we agreed to put our deal on pause.” He’d been so surprised by her sudden appearance that he hadn’t been paying attention. But now that she was closer, he could see something was wrong. Her eyes had lost their sparkle and lines of worry creased her forehead.

“We unpaused it.” She stared at the floor, long lashes fluttering over soft cheeks. “I thought that’s what was going on when we had dinner with your mom and Rick.”

“You told Rick we weren’t together. I was just following your lead.” He knew he should be concerned about his unbridled attraction for a woman who might not want him. Instead, he was contemplating the best way to pleasure her once he got her on his desk, pretty skirt hiked up her thighs, stiletto heels over his shoulders.

“I’m not really into labels.” She shrugged. “Together. Not together. What does it really mean? We have an arrangement and I just want to uphold my end of the bargain.”

“So what was Saturday night?” His heart thudded a frantic beat.

“It was . . . fun,” she said. “But now that we have it out of our systems, it’s best if we get back to business.”

Jay felt her words like a stab in the gut. Instinct told him they’d shared more than just physical intimacy during the night they’d spent together. They’d connected on another level, one so deep he couldn’t believe she’d come to his office just to push him away. Something had upset her. He’d seen it when she walked in the door, and he could see it now in the way she avoided his gaze. If she wasn’t going to be forthcoming, he would have to play the game. And Jay played to win.

“Take a seat and tell me what you’ve got.”

She startled, like she hadn’t expected him to capitulate, but recovered quickly. “Okay.” She settled in the chair across from him and picked up the file. “First we have Vidya Reddy. She’s an accountant with a multinational firm. She runs for fitness, enjoys classical music, and likes to garden. She’s organized, focused, detail-oriented, and professional.”

“Hmmm.” He rocked in his chair. “Can she sing ‘Climbing over Rocky Mountain,’ create a zombie costume out of nothing, and give a man a wake-up surprise he’ll never forget?”

She pressed her lips together and glared. “No. I don’t believe so.”

“Pass. Who’s next?” He stood and walked around the desk, turning her chair so he could kneel in front of her.

“What are you doing?”

“Keep going. I can barely contain my excitement. What other lovely ladies have you chosen to warm my bed?” He gently removed one of her high-heeled shoes and pressed a kiss to her instep.

“Devika Malini.” Her voice hitched and she hissed in a breath. “She’s a software engineer from a well-connected family and CEO of a fitness clothing start-up—”

“Would she fill a room with people just to support her father without even knowing he planned to show a collection of vulva fruit art? Can she find the best hot dog in San Francisco? And is she flexible enough to do yoga poses in bed?” He licked his lips. “I found a new one for you to try, by the way. It’s called leg behind head pose.” Holding her leg with one hand, he kissed his way along her calf, pausing to nip gently behind her knee.

She swallowed hard, hands braced on the arms of the chair. “You aren’t taking this seriously.”

“I am taking it very seriously,” Jay said. “But you’ve set a high bar and so far no one can measure up. I’m assuming the answer to all my questions is no for poor Devika. Who else is on your list?” Taking advantage of her easy-access skirt, he pushed it up so he could continue his kissing journey along the inside of one thigh.

“Jay . . .” Her voice caught, broke. “I’m trying to—”

“Find me a match. I know. I’m listening.” He grabbed her hips and pulled her to the edge of the seat. “If you want me to stop, just say the word, but I do my best thinking when I’m distracted.”

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