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“Look at me, Raashi.”
It was the sound of her name, her actual name, on his lips that had her caving. She turned her head slowly and looked at him, meeting that intense, hooded gaze. Her insides shivered, her heart flashing danger signs that she forced herself to ignore.
“I want to kiss you again, Raashi.” The words were whiskey swirling over crushed ice, the heat of the liquor draping over the chill of the rest. “Are you going to let me?”
Twenty-Eight
HARSH
Raashi’s wild eyes met his own. How had he never noticed how beautiful they were? Probably because he was busy avoiding the poisoned darts they shot at him. But now…Now, he was drowning in them and he never wanted to break free.
“Will you?” he whispered. “Will you let me kiss you again?”
Raashi surged to her feet, desperation lining her every movement. He heard Veda call out to her, but Raashi murmured something in response which seemed to pacify her older sister. Harsh watched her go from his seat on the cold, hard, terrace floor. Just as she reached the door that led to the stairs below, she stopped, her face in profile and illuminated by the light from the corridor beyond. His gaze drank in the sight of her hungrily. And then, she turned and met it. Her stormy eyes met his and clashed, a wealth of unanswered questions and unbanked confusion swirling in it.
She nodded, just once. But she nodded and he saw it. She disappeared down the stairwell, the door banging shut behind her. Harsh was on his feet and following before his brain could even compute the silent exchange. If anyone noticed them disappearing at the same time, he didn’t know and, in that moment, he didn’t care.
The door closed behind him, shutting out the noise from the party that was still going strong. Silence enveloped him as he raced down the stairs, instinctively knowing which way she’d gone. He took the stairs two at a time, leaping over the banister and striding down the corridor that led to his suite of rooms. He found her outside the door, leaning against the wall, eyes wide, hands trembling, lips quivering.
He reached past her and opened the door, stepping back in silent invitation. She didn’t hesitate. She walked past him, eyes straight ahead, not looking at him, not saying a word.
Harsh shut the door, shutting out the world, and enveloping them in their own, private one.
“Lights on low,” he murmured, and the lights came on, set to a warm, yellow, cosy glow. Raashi stood in the middle of his living room, her back to him, her head tipped up to the ceiling like she was looking for answers from God.
The chill draft of the air conditioner did nothing for his fevered brain. All he could think of was touching her, tasting her, breathing her in.
“Raashi?” He went to stand behind her, close but not touching. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”
She spun around, taking him by surprise and slammed her mouth to his. Harsh fell back, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her close. Teeth clashing, wild grappling, frantic pants and moan, it was as inelegant as it was desperate. His back hit the wall and her soft warmth melted into his front.
If ever there was a line between heaven and hell, Harsh now straddled it.
Her hands fisted in his t-shirt, bunching and pulling, while his fingers threaded through her shortened hair. Need punched through him, his breath rasping out of him like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the world to keep him going.
He slipped a hand under her shirt and cupped her breast, the underwire of her bra digging into his palm. A sharp bite of reality.
He pulled back, panting, and pressed his forehead to hers. Eyes shut, hand clenching in her hair, he fought for control.
“Raashi.”
She stretched up on her toes, her mouth reaching for his. He dropped a quick kiss on it but didn’t let her deepen it.
“Raashi.”
“What?” she snapped, frustrated desire simmering like a second skin on her.
“Are you sure?”
There was a lot of baggage that lay between them. Harsh didn’t want to add regret to it.
“Shut up and kiss me, Kodela. I don’t need your nonexistent morals to be born now.”
Hurt sliced through him as her words penetrated the haze of unbridled sensation that seemed to blanket him. His nonexistent morals. He’d thought this was different. He’d thought Raashi saw him differently. He’d thought she saw him.
But no, she wanted what everyone else did from him. She wanted the Harsh Kodela the world went crazy over. Not the Harsh Kodela he was underneath the carefully curated and polished image.
He pushed past it, past the disappointment and hurt that seemed to wrap prickly, thorny coils around his heart.
