“The only person who failed her is Ranjeet,” Layla said firmly. “Culture and tradition have nothing to do with what happened to her. Even if she’d met him in a coffee shop, and they dated before getting married, there’s no guarantee he would have shown his true face. She may even have had less information about him than she had when her marriage was arranged. Look at the men we interviewed. My dad screened them, and yet he didn’t know that Hassan was a scammer or that Dilip was a dancer, or that Bob wanted a virgin. It took both of us to get that information, and those were just the secrets they wanted to share. The only person who was honest was the CIA agent.”

“How’s that for ironic?” The tension eased from Sam’s shoulders.

Layla laughed. “Maybe I should choose him. He did offer to get me elephants.”

He turned his hand so they were palm to palm, and squeezed her fingers. “I think you should consider your alternatives.”

“What alternatives?”

“Me.”

She tilted her head down to hide her smile. “You aren’t on the list.”

“I don’t care about the damn list, and I don’t care about the game. I want you, Layla. And if I have to leave the office—”

“I don’t want you to leave the office,” she said softly. “I like sharing the space with you. I like being with you. I like that you’re caring and protective. I like that you line up your pencils, and color-code your files, and that your shoes are always polished, and your ties are perfectly knotted. I like that you are funny and sarcastic, and some of the best times I’ve had have been interviewing people with you. I like how loyal you are, even though you support the wrong baseball team. I like that you pretend not to know any movies but you can list almost every horror film ever made. And I like the way you kiss.”

His face softened and he gave a satisfied rumble. “You like my kisses.”

“Very much.”

“What else do you like?”

Layla licked her lips. “Take me to your place and I’ll show you.”

Sam threw some money on the counter and yanked her off the stool. “Let’s go.”

“What are you driving?” She half walked, half ran to keep up with him.

“BMW M2. I made the first payment when I became a medical intern and drove it home to show my dad. He was so proud.”

“Not too shabby.”

Sam snorted. “It can do zero to sixty in less than four freaking seconds. If you have time for a detour, I can show you what it can do on the 101.”

“Do I get to drive?”

“Are you crazy?”

A smile spread across her face. “Maybe just a little.”

* * *

• • •

“IT was fun while it lasted.” A disheveled Layla climbed into the tow truck and slid across to the middle seat.

Sam settled in beside her, wincing when he put weight on his left wrist. “Car accidents are not fun.”

“Well, I wasn’t hurt, thanks to your quick thinking.”

“There wasn’t much thinking going on when you put your hand down my pants.” He gritted his teeth against the stir of desire. Even after a car accident, the thought of her naughty touch aroused him.

“I’m sorry about that.” She grinned, not looking in the least remorseful. “But it seemed only fair since your hand was under my skirt.”

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have taken you on the 101 at night. They don’t call it the death ring for nothing.”

“Death ring?” She snorted a laugh. “A rogue mule deer jumping onto the road doesn’t make it the Bermuda Triangle.”

“Did you see the size of that thing?” He glanced over his shoulder at the destroyed front end of his car. “It had to be over two hundred pounds.”

“I couldn’t help but see it. He was staring right into my eyes. I still can’t believe he walked away. Too bad there aren’t deer police who could hunt him down and make him pay for his crime.”

“It’s not funny, Layla.”

Her smile faded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I was just trying to cheer you up. I feel like I’m on some kind of high right now.” She dropped her hand to his lap. “How about we start where we left off?”

“I’m sure the truck driver would enjoy that.”

Her hand trembled slightly when he moved it away, and something niggled at the back of Sam’s mind.

“All ready to go.” The tow truck driver climbed in beside them. He was a big man, at least six foot four with a barrel chest and thick thighs that stretched across the seat until they were touching Layla’s leg.

That wasn’t happening.

“Move this way. Give him some room.” Sam tugged her sleeve with his right hand, pulling her toward him so he could put an arm around her. She settled close, her warmth soothing his frayed nerves, loosening his lungs so he could breathe again.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Sam rolled down the window for the police officer who had been the first to arrive on the scene. “Everything okay?”

“I hate to do this because I know you’re broken up about your vehicle.” The police officer handed him his license and a speeding ticket. “You were doing eighty-five in a seventy zone.”

“Ajay Pataudi? Is that you?” Layla leaned over, peering into the semidarkness. “I haven’t seen you since Mansoor’s wedding.”

“Layla.” Officer Pataudi reached over Sam to shake her hand. “How’s your dad? I heard he was in the hospital.”

“Getting better. He still can’t talk but he’s already bossing people around. How’s Ayesha?”

“Pregnant with our third.”

Sam cleared his throat and Layla’s head jerked up as if she’d forgotten he was there. “Ajay, this is my friend Sam. Can you give him a break with the ticket? He bought that car with his first paycheck when he became a medical intern and drove it straight home to show his dad that all the sacrifices he’d made to give his son a better life were worth it. One minute he was #desiproud and the next, Bambi gets revenge Thumper style.”

“I never liked that movie,” Officer Pataudi said.

“Of course you didn’t, because you have a heart. You feel for the little guy, for all the Bambis who lost their moms and all the immigrants who came here for the American dream only to be crushed by the cruel deer of fate.”