Page 82 of Entangled Vows
He swallowed back a growl as her scent, a heady mix of coffee and something floral, clouded his mind like a drug. The skin where her lips had grazed still burned, setting his body on fire.
She took a step back, her smirk wicked as sin, fully aware of what she had done. Slowly, she circled him and made her way towards the bed, like a queen reclaiming her throne. He didn’t follow. He stood motionless like a statue, grappling with his jumbled thoughts, torn between logic and desire.
He noticed her graceful and measured movements as she climbed onto the bed and crawled forward. Slowly. Confidently. His breath stuttered as the fabric of her nightie slid higher, baring smooth skin that sent a shot of lust through his veins, his body hardening instantly.
He inhaled sharply. Held it. Exhaled through his nose.
Once. Twice. Again.
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes locked with his, fully confident in the victory she’d claimed without lifting a finger. She rubbed the damn lotion into her skin, while he still stood there like a statue.
“Good night, Grizz. Sleep tight,” she purred, her voice a velvet tease.
He said nothing. He couldn’t. Instead, he raked a hand through his hair, his jaw flexing as he fought for composure. Because right now, sleep was the last damn thing on his mind. His gaze swept over the explosion of pastels in his wardrobe, then back to the woman who moved through his world like wildfire, burning through every wall he’d ever built.
In these, two facts stood out starkly.
One, he needed a drink.
And second, one year with Mahika wasn’t just going to test his control; it was going to break it. And when it did, he wasn’t sure what would be left of him. Because he wasn’t just skirting the edge, he was one breath away from falling off it.
And it had only been two months till now.
∞∞∞
“How did you get him to wearthat?”
Standing under the golden fairy lights, Ishika’s voice held both curiosity and disbelief as she spoke to Mahika. Fairy lights twinkled above, casting a romantic shimmer, softening the night around the courtyard. They stood next to the outdoor bar, drinking champagne, their heels sinking slightly into the neatly trimmed grass.
A smile touched Mahika’s lips, and her voice was smug as she lifted her glass again.
“I told him if he didn’t, I’d sit this reception out.”
“No shit?” Ishika choked on a laugh.
Mahika smiled politely as a woman glided past them in a deep emerald silk saree. “No shit.”
Two hours earlier, they’d arrived at Galaxy Greens, a luxury venue owned by the JK Group. It was strategically perched on a hillside that overlooked the valley, now hazy and bathed in twilight. Just beyond, the dusky hills glittered like a vision to behold. An early summer breeze carried a crisp chill that nipped at the bare skin exposed by her strapless gown. She’d fallen in love with the dress the moment she tried it on. It made her feel like royalty. Even now, the whisper-soft silk clung to her like a secret, each gust of wind heightening her awareness of the curves beneath its delicate touch.
The reception was in full swing. Soft music played in the background, mingling with the sounds of people laughing and chatting. Black-waistcoated servers navigated the crowd, carrying silver trays laden with champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Expensive cologne permeated the air, and designer outfits sparkled under the lights. From above, the crystal chandeliers bathed the ballroom in a warm, golden glow, highlighting its opulent ambience.
Mahika and Vikram played their parts with practiced ease. Everything, from their poised entrance to the quiet smiles and polite nods they gave to politicians, industrialists, and socialites, played out like a flawlessly choreographed performance. There were some fresh faces among the usual, elite people, and they went through the same cycle of introductions and practiced smiles.
Everyone was there, except the wild bunch of Vikram’s friends and, of course, his brother and her best friend, Suraj.
Suraj’s absence had settled into a dull ache she had grown used to, though she still wondered where the hell he had vanished. Even Ishika hadn’t received a single reply to her messages. The deafening silence from him made her feel more isolated, even in the middle of this crowd.
Mahika sighed, attempting to find some small comfort in the fact that her mother was at least here today. Mohit had promised he’d bring her and make sure she stayed for a while. Her brief presence comforted her and kept the edge of bitterness from settling inside her completely. At least Mohit was always by her side, no matter what. He had become her pillar of strength, stepping in wherever their mother’s support felt short.
She pushed her thoughts away. She didn’t want to think about how fractured her family really was. Not today.
Not now, especially not when she saw Vikram hogging all the attention as he was standing with a group of people. Her eyes narrowed when he laughed at something. What could be so amusing? She didn’t understand how his face could shift so easily, so smoothly.
The past couple of days had only heightened her curiosity, making her wonder what truly went on behind Vikram’s calm, unreadable exterior. Like his full collection of monochrome shirts was still missing, and she had half-expected him to blow up in anger, to throw a fit, or to snap with some cutting remark, but he hadn’t. Instead, he moved on and started wearing pastel colours, unbothered, as if nothing were out of place.
Watching him stride through the office in his colourful attire, unfazed by the curious stares, was a guilty pleasure. To make matters worse, he lookedtoogood in them. Too good. Too distracting. He was totally oblivious to the effect he had on her with every casual smirk and rolled-up sleeve.
Just then, out of nowhere, a strange sensation snapped her back to reality and broke her thoughts. It was that same creepy, unwelcome feeling that slithered on her skin and knotted itself in her stomach when she was in public. She looked around, checking the room, but saw nothing. And yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, the cold prickling at the back of her neck refusing to subside.
