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“Would it be possible for us to get a private room?” He shoved his credit card across the counter. “We just need a little time to ourselves.”
Raashi blushed a blindingly bright shade of red when the girl looked at her, seeming to notice her presence for the first time.
“There are rooms set aside for the wedding party already,” the girl said stiffly, pushing his card back at him. “I’ll take you to it.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” Harsh told her and she smiled at him. Harsh dug an elbow into Raashi’s side and she grunted, “Thank you.”
The girl gave her a look of deepest loathing and Raashi rolled her eyes and muttered something that sounded an awful lot like ‘Bloody Harshian’ under her breath.
They followed the ‘Bloody Harshian’ down the long corridor to the elevator bank at the end, shoes clicking against the marble flooring. She swiped the elevator open, handed them a temporary key card and stepped back.
“Please let me know if you need anything else,” she said, looking like she was choking on her words.
The elevator doors slid shut on her annoyed, little face.
“Well, that’s going to make the news,” Raashi breathed.
“Good,” he answered. “It’s the best kind of news to make ahead of our wedding. Everyone will think we’re ridiculously romantic and can’t keep our hands off each other.”
“And what are we doing in reality?” She stood in the middle of the small, hotel room, her hands crossed under her ample breasts and making his concentration waver. The dim glow of the bedside lamps lit her delicate profile. He resisted the urge to turn the rest of the lights on. This conversation, he instinctively knew, was for the shadows.
“We’re going to talk,” he said sternly, mentally telling his hormones to behave. His hormones, like the rest of him, didn’t listen. Desire for this contradictory, annoying, prickly, adorable woman swirled inside him. He didn’t want to feel it. He didn’t need complications. And she was the biggest complication known to mankind and aliens combined.
“About?” Raashi stared at him, something that looked an awful lot like fear lurking in her eyes.
She knew what he wanted to talk about and clearly, it wasn’t going to be pleasant. He hated it. The thought that someone, anyone, could put that look in her eyes had murderous rage igniting in his heart. Harsh stalked over to where she stood, backing her up against the wall.
Raashi’s breath caught in her chest, but she tipped her chin up, meeting his gaze head-on. Fearful or not, Raashi Gadde did not back away from a confrontation. And this was the Raashi he wanted to see. Fearless, not fearful.
“What’s your problem, Kodela?” she asked, her lips tipping up in a sneer even as her eyes held an echo of a haunting vulnerability.
“You,” he muttered, his lips finding hers. “You’re my problem.”
Thirty-Four
RAASHI
She sighed as his lips touched hers. Her eyes fluttered shut at the first hint of contact. It felt like eons since he’d last kissed her. Eons since she’d tasted the addictive pleasure that was his skin against hers. Eons since she’d felt the seductive drug that was his touch against her body.
His hand fisted in her hair tugging her head back, exposing her neck. He traced the side of her neck till her collarbone with gentle kisses interspersed with tiny nips, little bites of pain that had her shuddering with need.
She’d never felt like this, not even when…her mind shied away from the long-buried memory. Desperate to chase it away completely, she tugged at Harsh’s suit jacket. She needed to touch him, to feel him against her in a way that took every last memory from her. He helped her get the jacket off and then unbuttoned his shirt, his hooded eyes on her the entire time.
“Where are those self-shredding shirts when you need them?” she asked, her voice hoarse with a yearning she didn’t dare voice. Somehow, it felt dangerous to say the words.
Anant had broken her, but she had a gut feeling that, if she let him in, Harsh could destroy her.
Harsh laughed, a bark of sound that had her slowly grinning too, the dark thoughts sliding away in the face of the sunshine beaming out of him. “Maybe that’s what you should use your fancy ass degree for,” he said, stepping between her legs and nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. “Invent a self-shredding shirt and I’ll test all prototypes for you.”
Raashi moaned as his teeth gently closed on her ear lobe, her hands going to his chest, roving restlessly. Need swam through her, a desperate tinge to it.
“Harsh, I need,” she whispered, writhing in her arms.
“I know, I know.” Harsh said the words like a benediction against her skin. He raised her dress to her waist, the cool air of the air conditioner on her heated skin making her whimper. He stroked her to distraction as she struggled to unbuckle his belt. The clink of the buckle sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet of the dark room.
Her hand slipped into his loosened pants, cupping him through his underwear. Harsh’s breath hissed out from between his teeth, his head falling back with his eyes closed, pained lines painting his face.
“I believe I owed you something,” she said, huskily, pulling out of his arms and dropping to her knees.
