His eyes travelled slowly along her form… taking in the red saree wrapped flawlessly around her, the shimmer of jewellery at her collarbone. It slipped downwards to the faint tremor of her breathing, her chest rising and falling with barely contained nerves, before settling on the curve where the drape shaped her waist.
His Adam’s apple bobbed once in a hard swallow as he could hardly look away. Even his steps lost their rhythm for a moment, almost as if the sight of her had thrown him off balance.
Mishti clutched her pallu tighter with her trembling fingers, trying to analyse his scorching stare.
He didn’t believe in softness.
He didn’t want this marriage.
He claimed he didn’t want her.
But the way he looked at her now… said something very different.
Karan despised his reaction. But he couldn’t stop it. The more he tried to look away, the more his gaze returned to her…lingering, tracing, wanting. It irritated him because this wasn’t supposed to happen.Not with her.Yet no matter how muchdistance he tried to maintain, something always slipped through when she came looking likethisin front of him.Likea wife who deserved his attention and love.
He clenched the railing, trying to force control back into his body. He had real, bitter reasons to keep her at arm’s length. Butdesiredidn’t care about reasons. And Mishti, in that red saree, looking up at him with soft eyes and a hesitant breath…had definitely started to become his weakness.
As he reached the last few steps, his arm brushed the railing, and the cuff button snapped free, rolling straight toward Mishti, almost as if even that tiny defiant button knew exactly whom it wanted to stop at.
Maria hurried forward to pick it up.
“F*ck,” Karan exhaled sharply, irritated at the timing.
He didn’t have a minute to change, and swapping the outfit wasn’t an option, not when Abhimanyu had insisted, they twin their outfits tonight. Wearing anything else would ruin his brother’s entire sentiment behind it.
“Sir, don’t worry. I’ll sew it right away,” Maria said and hurried off to get the sewing kit.
A moment later, Abhimanyu strode in from the garden, looking thoroughly exasperated.
“Unbelievable,” he grumbled. “It’smywelcome party, yet I’m the one playing host while the actual hosts are still missing. What exactly are you two waiting for? Let’s go.”
“The button came off,” Karan said, pointing at his shirt cuff.
Abhimanyu groaned in disappointment just as Maria hurried back with the sewing kit. She was almost ready to sew the button on Karan’s cuff when Abhimanyu swooped in, snatching the kit from her hands with a bright grin.
“Oh no, Maria, you don’t need to do this,” he said happily. “Bhai has a wife now.” He turned to Mishti with a teasing sparklein his eyes. “Unless Bhabhi doesn’t know how to sew a button…which I highly doubt,” he added with a playful grin.
Then he gently nudged Maria toward the garden. “Go on, help the guests outside. See if anyone needs anything.”
Maria understood instantly what Abhimanyu was trying to do. He wanted to give Misthi and Karan a moment, and Maria wanted that too. She immediately agreed and slipped away without waiting.
Mishti, on the other hand, was confused. She knew Karan wouldn’t want her involved in anything like this, and she didn’t want to make the situation awkward either. Her confusion showed in the way she held her saree pallu, looking at Karan as if waiting for him to deny himself.
But the moment Karan noticed her hesitation, he didn’t refuse. “Fine,” he said, with a short exhale.
Abhimanyu’s grin stretched even wider as he gently caught Mishti by the wrist.
“Come on, Bhabhi,” he nudged playfully. “Don’t keep bhai waiting.” Then he chuckled and corrected himself, “I mean, don’t keep the guests waiting for the two of you.”
He pressed the sewing kit into her hand.
“Fix the button for him, please. And you both better be out soon,” he said with a mischievous wink. “I’ll keep the guests entertained till then!” he called over his shoulder, practically bouncing with excitement as he hurried back toward the garden.
Mishti stood before Karan with the sewing kit pressed between her trembling fingers.
He slid off his tuxedo jacket and draped it over his forearm before extending his other arm toward her, the one with the missing button, offering her access without a word.
She stepped forward hesitantly, leaving a careful sliver of distance between them, wondering why he agreed to this so easily. Karan, on the other hand, noticed everything…the wayshe swallowed, the way her lashes fluttered, the way her breath hitched.
