Upon her puzzled frown, he grinned devilishly and mouthed, 'Oysters.'
Jasmine rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the effect his good looks and charming demeanor had on her senses.
"Or...I could take you on a tour first," he continued speaking pleasantly. "Show you around this large house of mine. Maybe you'll see something you like."
"I really doubt that," Jasmine replied dryly but followed him anyway because she had a feeling that getting rid of him was going to be a little difficult.
He showed her everything except the master suite and the dining hall where Alex and Giselle were having dinner. Jasmine thought the house was beautiful. It was a labour of love, she could tell. It had taken him a year to get it done once he had convinced his family to let him stay in Italy as a permanent resident. She found out that even though Giselle placed the orders for the furniture, Armaan had approved of the designs and he had come up with the idea of the theme for each room himself. Jasmine now realized why she had been placed in a room themed 'Sensual Heaven'.
He had designed the house in a unique way too. For one thing, the inner walls had no sharp corners, only gentle curves and when he took her to the rooftop, she saw that the layout was in the shape of a trophy. The FIFA world cup trophy, if she was not mistaken. She laughed. "I take it you really love soccer."
"Yes," he answered sincerely. "I've been playing since childhood. We could have a game or two after the party if you're interested."
She turned to regard him speculatively. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
Armaan pinned her with a lazy look. "You're my guest. I'm trying to make you feel welcome."
She almost laughed at that. "As long as we're clear on the boundaries," was her response.
"Honey, if you were that concerned about boundaries, you wouldn't have accepted my invitation to the party after our last encounter."
"Oh yeah, about that," she countered without hesitation. "You still owe me an apology."
Armaan chuckled a little at her words. "Yeah...um...not happening. You slapped me. We're even now."
For real? So, he wasn't planning to apologise? And he actually thought they were even? Wow. He had some nerve.
"We should join the other two," she said curtly, without looking at him. He had been a gracious host so far, she could hold off on the punishment a little longer.
"I haven't shown you the library yet."
That surprised her. "You have a library?"
Armaan looked offended. "Yes, I have a library. What kind of uneducated bum do you think I am?" he demanded and she shook her head.
"I...I didn't mean to offend you-"
He laughed at her. "Babe. I'm just messing with you. I don't get offended. Angry, yeah but not offended. Come on."
He disappeared down the stairs and Jasmine followed him again, fascinated by his charismatic personality more than she wanted to be.
The library was huge. It was somewhere in the middle of the house and the whole room was circular. Jasmine's eyes glowed as they took in the hundreds of books there. Classic. Contemporary. Sports and Architecture. There was a huge fireplace and several armchairs where one could relax and spend hours lazing with a book.
"Oh, wow," she breathed. "I am in heaven."
He smiled at her. "So this is what it takes to please you. Remind me to use this as a venue for my next attempt at seduction."
She widened her eyes at him. "Next attempt? Are you insane?"
His gaze filled with heat and he brought out the tip of his tongue to lick his lips. "Maybe," he murmured. "Or maybe I just like getting slapped."
The way he said those words incited a fierce desire within her. Her imagination ran riot at the idea and Jasmine had to force herself to move away before she did something stupid. Noticing a large desk in a corner, she made her way towards it and her gaze landed on a sketch book. The first page was open with a drawing of the FIFA trophy held up by some player.
"Wow, you like to sketch people too?" she asked curiously, reaching for it.
"No, don't touch that." Jasmine jumped as his hand clamped down on the sketch pad before her fingers could grasp it. He snatched it up, stuffed it in a drawer and looked back at her with a deadpan expression. She eyed him suspiciously. Armaan cleared his throat and smiled. "Some of my sketches are...kind of private."
"You read my incomplete manuscript," she pointed out, feeling affronted. "That was private."
When he did not respond, she turned away from him. "But unlike you, I totally get it. It's an artistic thing. However, am I allowed to look at some of the books?" she asked.
He appeared relieved that she had not demanded to see the sketches just because he had seen her writing that time. "Of course. They're all yours," he invited.
"I don't mean to be rude but I think I'm going to be skipping dinner tonight. I know where the kitchen is so I'll get something to eat if I do feel hungry. I might even camp out in this room for the whole weekend. Don't mind me."
Armaan was leaning against his desk and twirling a pencil around his fingers. "So, when are you planning on going back to Amira?"
She raised her eyes from the book in her hands to gape at him, studying his casual expression. "How did you find out about me?" she asked slowly.
He looked up and smiled at her. "Zoya," he said simply.
"Oh." She closed the book and stared at the designs on the rug she was standing on, unable to think straight.
"I didn't tell her about you," he said quickly.
