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The people closest to them laughed even as Raashi flushed and shook her head ruefully. She’d been so blinded by the ring that she had forgotten she needed to put one on his hand too.
“Typical Raashi,” someone in the crowd said snidely. “Never thinking about the other person. Can’t believe she managed to land Harsh Kodela.”
She stiffened, her small smile sliding off her face. There were too many people around for her to pinpoint the nasty cow. Her mother handed her the ring and she slid it into place on Harsh’s ring finger.
Harsh was looking at her, his deep, dark chocolate eyes boring into her. She knew he’d heard the comment. She knew he could see it. The hurt, the shame, the rejection…all of it stinging a little more in the shadow of his golden aura.
And before she could pull her mask back in place or turn away from his perceptive gaze, he leaned forward, his lips finding hers.
Tentative, chaste, and sweet, it was meant to be comforting, a show of support. She knew that and yet, the minute his lips touched hers, everything changed. The pressure of his mouth increased even as she pressed herself against him, yearning to get closer.
He was the darkest of dark chocolate, a sinful pleasure that bordered on decadence. He was a hint of heaven wrapped in the coils of hell. He was Raashi’s biggest mistake and her most desperate craving, all twisted together in one painful package.
They broke apart, shocked and stunned. Her fingers went to her lips, the scorching heat of his kiss seeming to have left their brand on her soft flesh.
“Vedhava.” His father’s furious voice broke the moment. “Don’t you know how to behave?” Mr. Kodela hissed. “People are watching.”
As she watched, Harsh morphed back into the charming, superficial man she’d thought she’d known.
“Sorry everyone,” he shouted cheerfully at the crowd. “I thought it was that time in the ceremony where you get to kiss the bride.”
Everyone laughed. No one bothering to correct him or inform him that this was an engagement and certainly not a Christian wedding. No one would. He was Harsh Kodela. He could do anything and the adoring public would forgive him. The families though…the wave of disapproval from the elders was tsunami level high.
Even Agastya shook his head, resigned to the scene that was sure to follow. Raashi wondered if she should be outraged too. She was sure that kiss would be the picture every media outlet would lead with tomorrow.
And with a jolt she realised that was exactly what Harsh had been aiming for. In one swoop of his lips, he’d done what her day long makeover hadn’t.
That kiss would ensure nobody would question how she’d managed to hook Harsh Kodela anymore.
Nobody that is other than her. Fake, she reminded herself, her fingers going to her tingling lips. This was fake.
Twenty-Five
HARSH
Harsh tossed a tennis ball in his hands, one palm to the other. It landed each time with a satisfying smack against the flat of his palm. He was an engaged man now. The party was over, the press had their news bytes, and the people had their gossip.
That kiss…
He’d been making a statement with that kiss. A public statement. Yet, it had resounded loudest in the privacy of his heart.
He threw the ball against the wall in front of his bed.
Whump.
It sailed back in an arc into his waiting hand. He caught the ball and with a flick of his wrist flung it again.
Whump.
Her lips were ridiculously soft. Memory slammed through him igniting a wave of heat. His hand fumbled this time and the ball landed on his thigh instead. He winced and picked it up, ignoring the stinging in his thigh muscles.
He threw it again. His aim went wide and it hit the door just as it was opening. The ball landed on the ground and rolled toward a pair of feet. He glanced up to see his sister smirking at him.
Of course! Of course, she’d come to torment him.
“Terrace,” she said with a tilt of her head. “Let’s go.”
“I don’t want to,” Harsh sulked.
