“Idiot,” I mutter under my breath. “Who sleeps shirtless in this weather?”
Whatever!! Why the hell was I worrying about him?
I quickly move back to my side of the bed before my brain changes its mind again. Turning my back towards him, I close my eyes. And this time... sleep finally comes.
RAGHAV
Next Day
The discussion with the French wine distributors drags on much longer than I would have liked. We stand together near the vineyard overlooking the valley, discussing barrel aging, export timelines, and the new vintage we plan to release next season. Under normal circumstances, I would have paid close attention to every detail.
But not today. Not when I see Haider walking towards us. He doesn’t interrupt the meeting; he simply waits until I notice him. The moment our eyes meet, I know something has happened. I excuse myself from the distributors, promising to continue the discussion over lunch, and head towards him.
“What is it?” I ask.
Haider folds his hands behind his back.
“Siya is at the stables riding Rogan.”
“What?” I snap.
He nods. “She asked one of the stable boys to saddle him. Before anyone could stop her, she was already gone.”
I curse under my breath.
That stubborn woman.
Of all the horses at RK Estate, she had to choose Rogan.
I’d warned her last time she stayed here that Zephyr and Rogan weren’t meant for anyone else, especially not Rogan. Ihad trained that horse myself. It took weeks before he finally stopped trying to throw every rider off his back. Even now, he remains unpredictable. He obeys me because I’ve earned his trust.
With anyone else, all it would take was one wrong movement, one poorly timed command, or a sudden noise for him to turn dangerous. Without wasting another second, I head straight to the buggy parked nearby. Haider silently gets in beside me.
The buggy speeds across RK Estate. Why does she have to challenge every single thing I tell her not to do? Is this her latest way of making me regret marrying her? Because if it is, she’s chosen the one thing I would never joke about.
The buggy comes to a halt outside the stables. Before Haider can even step down, I’m already striding towards the riding arena enclosed by the wooden fence. As soon as I reach there, I stop, because what I see steals every word from my mind.
There she is, mounted on Rogan.
Siya is dressed in fitted dark jeans tucked into riding boots, a cream pullover hugging her frame beneath a sleeveless quilted jacket. Her hair, tied into a high ponytail, sways with every graceful stride of the horse.
She looks completely at home. For the moment, I simply watch her.
Then my anger comes rushing back.
Damn it, Siya. Get off him.
Rogan circles the arena at a controlled trot. Siya isn’t merely sitting in the saddle, she’s riding him confidently as though she has known this horse for years.
A stable worker standing near the gate notices me, and his face immediately pales. He starts walking towards me, clearly preparing to explain himself, but I stop him with a single look.Not now. Not when my entire attention is fixed on my wife inside the arena.
She hasn’t seen me yet, or maybe she has. Knowing Siya, she’s probably pretending she hasn’t. Just then, a loud metallic clang tears through the stable as one of the younger stable boys accidentally drops a large feeding bucket onto the stone floor.
Rogan reacts instantly. His ears flatten, his body tenses, and he rears, his front legs lifting off the ground.
“Rogan!” Several stable workers shout at once.
Every muscle in my body locks.
