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“It’s cream, not white,” Amma shouted back, startling Raashi out of her thoughts.
“My in-laws won’t like it,” Veda replied absently, as she looked at the suit jackets that had miraculously appeared in front of her.
Rebellion sparked inside Raashi at the comment. She opened her mouth to say something, but her sister looked up and speared her with a firm look. “No,” she said. One word aloud but a million unspoken. Raashi shut her mouth.
“Wear it.” This time Harsh was looking at her the way he had over the last few days. He was looking right at her, not through her. “If that’s what you want.”
The words were quiet, but they resounded in the large hall. Agastya looked up from the file he was riffling through, his gaze going from Harsh to Raashi to Veda, a silent, frozen triumvirate.
“What’s going on?” he asked carefully.
“Athama and Mammagaru will go nuts if she wears a white saree to any of the wedding functions. Amma why would you suggest this?” The last question was aimed at their mother who shrugged, not bothering to look up from the sarees she was examining.
Harsh stood up and walked over to where she stood. With her little stage, she was at eye level with him. He stopped in front of her, that same intense yet private look on his face.
“Do you want to wear this saree, Rash?”
Raashi, call me Raashi, she wanted to plead but the words wouldn’t come. She looked away from him, a strange, utterly foreign emotion swarming through her.
“Rash? Viper?” His voice was soft as he pinched her chin and turned her to face him. “Do you want to wear this saree?”
Did she? Not really. She didn’t care about what she wore. She did care about making a point though. She cared about not letting other people tell her what she could and couldn’t do.
“Tell me what you want, Rash.”
You. The word sprang to her mind. Horrified, she stared at him, this man she’d thought she despised but clearly, hate wasn’t the word for what she felt for him. So, what did she feel? She didn’t know but it was confusing, painful, and horrifyingly strong.
“Raashi?” This time he said her name, his brow furrowing at whatever he saw in her eyes.
“What do you want? Say the word and I’ll make it happen for you.”
Her lips parted on a soundless exhale. “I-“ The words clogged her throat and she swallowed hard.
It wasn’t worth going to war over, not with his parents, not when she knew how deeply he craved their approval and never got it. She didn’t want to be another arrow in their arsenal against him. She wanted to be the shield he wielded instead. She wanted to stand between him and everything that could hurt him. She wanted…oh God, she wanted him. She wanted Harsh, all of him.
She wanted to tell him all of that but the only thing that came out was…“I really don’t care.”
Harsh dropped his hand and looked away from her, as if the sight of her pained him beyond bearing.
“Of course you don’t,” he said, his voice soft yet chillingly hard. “Why would you? Choose something else then darling. It’s not worth fighting for if you don’t care enough about it.”
And with one brief, sardonic smile, he walked away from her and back to where her sister stood, a wall of jackets at her back.
Thirty
Harsh
The phone rang just as he was looping the tie around his neck. He grabbed for it and checked the display. Nanda Garu. His heart started to race as he stared at the display. Was this finally the news he’d been waiting to hear or just another polite, courtesy call? He wasn’t going to let his hopes get too high.
“Good evening, Sir.” He held the phone between his ear and shoulder, while swiftly knotting his tie.
“I asked you to show some stability and you decided to get married in reply?” The older man’s amusement was obvious in his voice.
“I am nothing if not committed to over delivering.”
The low laugh that came through the phone had him grinning as he checked himself out in the reflection. The custom made Brioni suit was sheer perfection in fabric. It worked. All of it.
Except for the bride and him. That clearly didn’t work. Hurt’s jagged edges sliced through him. Why did he care what she thought of him? Was it because his opinion of her had changed so he’d hoped the same was true of her?
