“That changes from today. You haven’t hired a new house help. You married me. Unless your demands are logical, I don’t see why I should follow them.”
Her defiance once again burned hotter than any scream.
“I want to cook,” she continued, “and you cannot stop me.”
He stared at her, shock giving way to a dark flare of anger. No one had ever spoken to him like that. And coming from her, especially, got under his skin.
He was about to close the distance between them when she turned away from him, walking to the corner towards a small ladder.
She wanted powdered sugar, which Maria said was on the top shelf. She climbed the small steps gracefully.
His gaze darkened as she rose higher. The hem of her top lifted slightly, revealing a sliver of skin at her waist, as she raised her arms to open the shelf.
Karan clenched his fists, forcing his eyes away.
“Who’s going to eat what you cook?” he muttered. “Not me.”
She didn’t even turn.
“I’ll eat,” she said simply. “Maria will eat. The entire staff will eat. You’re welcome to avoid it.”
That last line hit his pride. This woman was driving him insane, and the worst part was, she didn’t even know it.
With his temper burning, Karan stormed toward the ladder. Mishti had already reached the top, one hand carefully pulling down the tin of powdered sugar. But before she could climb down, he reached there with such a force that the moment his leg brushed the side of the ladder, it wobbled dangerously.
Mishti gasped, clutching the tin tightly, but it was too late.
The lid came loose. A flurry of powdered sugar burst into the air like snow, raining down on both of them.
It sprinkled through his hair, across the sharp lines of his suit, dusting his shoulders and expensive shoes in a soft white haze. But that was not it. Even Mishti lost her balance in the chaos and stumbled forward, straight into him.
Karan was quick enough to catch her instantly. His one arm locked around her waist, while the other braced her back. When her palms landed against his chest, his heart thudded violently beneath her touch. The scent of sugar, her freshly washed hair, and the faint warmth of her skin wrapped around him like sin.
Once again for a moment, the world narrowed to that one forbidden closeness. The sweetness between them hung heavy, sticky, and tempting.
A smile curved her lips as she saw him. “No matter how much you dislike sweetness…” she murmured, “…it always finds you. You cannot escape from Mishti’s sweetness, Mr Wadhwa.”
Her words should have brought him to reality. But instead, his gaze fell on the powdered sugar that clung to the corner of her lips, and his hand almost rose on its own accord to brush it away.
Almost.
But that was when the voice came.
“Hi, lovebirds.”
Rajat’s teasing tone broke their spell. Karan’s fingers stilled mid-air before he straightened sharply and stepped back, pushing Mishti away, not harshly, but enough to regain his distance. Mishti steadied herself, her face flushed as she turned to see Rajat and Kanika standing at the doorway.
Although Rajat looked happy, Kanika looked like she’d stepped on glass.
Karan’s eyes narrowed. “What are you two doing here?”
Rajat grinned, clearly enjoying every second. “Thank God we decided to surprise you, or we’d have missed this beautiful moment. And I liked what Mishti said. Her sweetness is all over you, buddy. Marriage suits you.” He winked.
Karan shot his friend a glare while Mishti tried to hide her blush, lowering her gaze. And in all this, Kanika’s silence was louder than words.
Rajat stepped closer, holding out a bouquet of yellow roses towards Mishti. “This is for you. Hope you heal soon. And with the way Karan’s caring for you…” He smirked at Karan, “I’m sure you’ll be fine in no time.”
Mishti smiled politely, accepting the flowers. Her gaze then flicked to Kanika, whose irritation was impossible to miss.
