The Billionaire's Game(15)

“I’m pushing you. I’m sorry. We can talk about the house later,” he said contritely.

Asha backed away, his touch disconcerting. While she was sick, she’d savored every contact. But it was different now that she was well and healthy, and when he touched her, it made her yearn for much more than a comforting contact. Now that she was well, she knew how very dangerous those longings could be. “I want to get to work. I have to find a place to stay and we should work out exactly how long this will take, how many walls you’d like done,” she answered in what she hoped was a professional voice, trying to control her rioting emotions.

“All of them,” Kade answered, setting his beer on the kitchen table and folding his arms in front of him. “It will be a long project, and you’re staying here with me. God knows I have plenty of room.”

“No one else lives here?” she asked casually, although her heart was pounding and she held her breath while she waited for his answer.

“No. Just me. It’s always just been me.” He pulled out a chair and motioned her to sit. “You need to take it easy. Sit and tell me what your thoughts are on what I should do with the house if you’re that determined to discuss it. I want your opinion.”

Asha sat, staring up at Kade as he towered over her. He wanted her opinion? Why? She’d expected him to just tell her what to do and she’d do it. “The house needs to be a reflection of you. Whatever makes you feel at home.”

Heaving a masculine sigh, Kade sat in the chair across from her. “I don’t really know. I’ve spent most of my life wrapped up in my football career. I traveled, stayed in a lot of hotel rooms. I don’t know shit about what makes a home. I lived and breathed football.”

She released her pent-up breath before asking, “And what do you live for now that your football career is over?” With Asha knowing next to nothing about football, Kade had needed to explain exactly how the game was played while she was recovering, and what his role had been as a quarterback for the Florida Cougars. Obviously, he was a well-known athlete, and probably most people would have recognized him. But she wasn’t most people, and she’d lived in a very small world up until two years ago. She could feel his sense of loss, the longing in his voice whenever he talked about his team. It made her have the crazy compulsion to hug him close and tell him that he was so much more than just a game.

His blue eyes pierced her with a confused stare. Asha could feel Kade’s despair as he answered, “My friends. My brother and sister. I’ve learned that there are very few things that are constant in life. I was cocky, a star quarterback who had everything, and then had it ripped away in a matter of moments. I don’t count on much of anything anymore.” Looking away as though he’d said too much, Kade took another slug of his beer.

Asha felt a shiver run down her spine, all too aware of just how fleeting and rare happiness could be. She’d lived most of her life doing what she thought were her duties, her obligations as an Indian woman. Conflicted, she’d spiraled downward as the burdens began to chafe, wondering who she really was and what she was meant to do with her life. “Sometimes even the things you think are constant really aren’t,” she murmured thoughtfully.

Kade’s head jerked around to look at her again, his eyes probing. “Why? Tell me what your life was like. I can guarantee you that my sister, Mia, will be paying us a visit as soon as she knows we’re back. You can’t go on forever denying that you’re probably related to her husband. Your mother’s maiden name was the same as Max’s and Maddie’s, and there’s a good chance you’re half-siblings. They’re good people, Asha. You could have a lot worse people to call family.”

“I don’t have family,” Asha cried painfully, the words coming from her aching gut.

Kade looked at her, perplexed. “You had adoptive parents—”

“Foster parents. I was taken in by an Indian family when I was three, after my natural parents died. I was fed, clothed, and raised as an Indian woman. I went to school, but I wasn’t allowed to have American friends. I was married at the age of eighteen by arrangement to an Indian man who wanted to immigrate to the United States, a cousin to my foster parents,” she finished breathlessly, hardly able to believe she was spilling her guts to Kade. He did that to her, made her want to tell him exactly how she felt because she knew he wouldn’t judge her. It felt strange, being able to actually talk to a man about her feelings.

“Did you love him?” Kade asked huskily.