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“Take back your words before I take them seriously,” he warned.
“I thought you were serious enough when you proposed to me for marriage. Was I wrong?”
Her challenging words pushed him off his edge. He stood up and rounded his working desk to reach her. It was a restless move that signaled he was losing his calm.
“Did anybody provoke you? Is that why you are—”
“I am mature enough to know what I am getting into. Just tell me if you still want to marry me or not.”
She didn’t let him finish, and this time he didn’t hold himself back. He told her what she wanted to hear.
“We will marry officially tomorrow. And the rituals will happen this weekend at Jaipur in the temple where Daadi desires.”
Both relief and nervousness hit her body together. She was officially going to be Mrs. Malhotra. He had a renewed feeling on his face too as he raised his next query.
“Will this just be a legal marriage? Or am I getting all of you?”
Her body writhed at his genuine query. She knew he would want to know that too, and she had prepared a response already.
“How about one step at a time?” she mumbled.
A bright smirk crossed his lips.
“I can live with that,” he accepted. These days he had started loving this slow and steady love.
Ranveer pulled her closer to his body, causing the air around them to shift. The sensation of belonging to him and claiming him as her own sent shivers down her skin. Ranveer was a complex man, and she was yet to discover his deep, dark secrets. However, none of that mattered at this moment. You can never truly know someone completely; there is always a new and unexplored side that reveals itself over time. The bitterness she once felt towards him had long faded due to his constant efforts to protect her and her mother. While there were still countless things she didn't know about him, one thing she could say with confidence was that he desired not just her body, but all of her - her pain, worries, and problems. A true partner takes on these responsibilities, and he had already proven himself in that regard. There was no turning back now. Their life together would not be easy. They would argue, fight, and be angry with each other for countless reasons. However, in the end, they would both strive to support and protect each other. That was the only thing that mattered now.
“Boss, the client has—” Aman entered the cabin but stopped seeing the two embraced into each other’s arms. He immediately looked away. “Sorry. I will come back later.”
He ran out, shutting the door behind. Maya came off his grip and checked her watch.
“I am getting late for work. I should leave.”
He nodded and led her to the door.
“Have you informed your mother yet?” he asked.
“No, I will do that in a while.”
“I will inform Daadi,” he added.
She smiled weakly as he opened the door for her and waited. Aman was out, talking to the two women who handled the reception area of this floor; all three glancing at their Boss, Ranveer Malhotra, and Maya as the door opened. Ranveer’s fingers brushed her nape as he pulled her closer again and kissed her forehead. Maya gripped his arm as his lips came in contact with her skin. She didn’t see that coming. He must be really very happy that she agreed to marriage. He even shocked her by declaring that date to be tomorrow.
“Don’t change your mind,” he whispered.
It was more of a request than a command. Anyone watching them right now would burn in jealousy. Feeling totally out of place and embarrassed, she pulled away from him and hurried to the elevator to walk out of his building. Ranveer kept staring at her as she left and then headed back to his cabin, followed by Aman.
“Ranveer...”
“Do you have plans of unemployment, Aman Mathur?” Ranveer took his seat.
Aman held his laughter. Ranveer had threatened to suspend him from work a lot many times.
“Where did your knocking etiquettes go?” Ranveer continued to shout at him, but Aman knew he wasn’t serious.
“I had knocked the door; you were too busy to listen.”
Ranveer’s brow twitched. That could be true. He was so engrossed in Maya that he had all his senses fixed upon her.
