“Thank you, beautiful.” He returns the smile, his gaze trailing down my body.
Before I can flirt further, a hand clamps around my arm. I am spun around to face Dev, his eyes burning not with irritation, but with sheer fury.
“Enough.”
“Relax, hubby. Seems like you could use a drink as well.”
I free myself from his grip, stroll back to the trolley, and grab a beer can. Turning to face him, I pop it open, and the foam bursts instantly, spilling down my neck and soaking the front of my dress.
I gasp dramatically. “Oops.”
A few men cough and exchange uneasy glances, trying hard not to stare. I saunter over to Dev and hold out the dripping can, but he doesn’t take it. His fists clench at his sides, his whole body practically vibrating with barely restrained fury.
I shrug and lift the can in the air.
“A toast to my darling husband,” I announce sweetly, letting my eyes lock on his.
Dev grinds out, “Let’s go.”
I shake my head. “Will you stop being such a boring husband and let me have a little fun?” I turn and set the can on the centre table, then face Dev again. “You know I have a surprise for you. Something that might improve your grumpy mood.”
I pull my phone from my dress pocket, tap a button, and music explodes through the room. A slow, sultry smile spreads across my face as I begin to dance, my hips swaying in sinuous, teasing rhythm. I run a hand through my hair, letting it cascade over my shoulder as I feel every eye in the room fixed on me.
Dev’s face darkens. And that only fuels me more.
Within seconds, he storms towards me. His arm snakes around my waist, and he pulls me flush against him. Before I can even blink, he sweeps me up bridal-style.
“The meeting is over,” he announces, addressing the stunned men, before striding out of the room with me in his arms.
The moment we’re beyond earshot, I screech, “Dev! Put me down! PUT ME DOWN!”
But he doesn’t listen. He storms through the hall, up the stairs, and into our room. With a swift kick, he shuts the door behind him and throws me onto the bed. I bounce once, startled.
I push myself up, and the sight of him standing at the foot of the bed, his chest rising and falling, his eyes dark and smouldering, makes me gulp.
“I need to change,” I say, rising to my feet and shoving past him towards the closet, where that asshole had his way and arranged my clothes.
But he blocks my path with a firm arm.
“Why did you do this?” he growls.
“To insult you. Isn’t it obvious?” I snap back. “My darling husband, what will you do about it? Force me to apologise?”
His eyes narrow, and then that dangerous calm settles over him, the kind that’s worse when he’s angry. Much worse.
“I know you’re not the type who apologises. So I won’t waste my time.” Then he leans in, and I can’t help but let out a hitch in my breath.
“And Mrs. Rathore, you’re wasting your energy doing all this to make me angry. Because no matter what stunt you pull… you will not get rid of me.” He pulls back, and his gaze drops to the dress clinging to my body, the droplets of beer tracing down my curves. His jaw flexes once before his gaze returns to mine.
“Now, go and change,” he says, stepping aside.
Without another word, he turns and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.
I stand there, shaking with leftover adrenaline, then flop back onto the bed, staring at the closed door.
“Why is it so impossible to get through to this man?” I whisper into the empty room, my pulse still racing.
Chapter 16
