Esha keeps staring at him for a second too long before letting out a heavy sigh. My eyebrow immediately rises. This isn’t the first time I have sensed something between the two of them. But as soon as Esha realises I’ve caught her staring, she quickly looks away. Just as I’m about to ask her about it, Raghav appears from the opposite side.
The moment he’s near, my heartbeat forgets how to function properly. He’s again dressed in a black shirt, this time a denim one, with black jeans, a watch, and sunglasses hanging from the front of his shirt. Some men look good in black. Raghav looks like the reason black was invented. Suddenly, I remember why keeping my anger in check around this man is a full-time job.
I deliberately look away when he reaches us. His gaze lands on me first before shifting to Esha.
“How many Royal Villa bookings do we have for next weekend?” he asks Esha, who straightens immediately.
“All have been sold out for the weekend, sir,” she replies professionally.
Esha keeps her eyes on the tablet in her hands instead of looking directly at him.
“The wine tasting tour?”
“Fully booked.”
“What about the France distributor visit?”
“Confirmed for Friday morning.”
He nods, probably realising the change in Esha’s behaviour. A week ago, she would have replied with her usual enthusiasm, but now her responses are short and clipped. Even I havenoticed the difference ever since she learned the truth about our marriage.It’s clear she still respects him, but the admiration she once openly displayed now seems to have cracks.
“Anything else, sir?” she asks.
Raghav studies her for a second, as if he senses the change too.
“If not, I should get back to work,” she says, stepping back. “I need to supervise the new guest check-ins.”
Without waiting for a response, she walks away. The second she disappears, Raghav looks at me suspiciously.
“What the hell did you tell her?” His angry gaze pins me in place. “Her behaviour towards me has been off for a week now.”
“I just told her the truth.”
His jaw clenches.
“Although, I’m relieved,” I add. “At least now somebody else on this estate can join me in hating you.”
Saying that, I turn to leave. I barely make it two steps before his hand closes around my wrist, and he pulls me closer. My gaze automatically falls to the chain around his neck and the pendant resting against his chest.Wonderful.As if the open collar and the skin beneath it weren’t distracting enough already.
“You couldn’t make me regret marrying you,” he says softly, the corner of his mouth lifting, “so now you’ve moved on to turning my own staff against me? That’s not going to work, Princess.”
Princess.
My entire body warms up at that term.
Lately, he has been calling me that, and I still have no idea why. Apparently, being dragged into a forced marriage also comes with a free nickname.
“You should be worried,” I reply, glaring at him. “Your popularity is declining, Mr. Kundra.”
His eyes hold mine, as if he is too aware of himself. “If the price of marrying you is losing a few admirers, I think I’ll survive. No matter how many people you turn against me...” His thumb brushes once against the inside of my wrist. “You’re still stuck with me, Mrs. Siya Raghav Kundra.”
Mrs. Siya Raghav Kundra?
Heat rushes to my face. The name sounds possessive coming from him. Territorial even. I hate how naturally it rolls off his tongue. My heart once again betrays me. The stupid thing actually flutters.
“I wish I could shut that mouth of yours,” I snap.
The amusement on his face disappears immediately. His fingers slide from my wrist to my elbow, and he pulls me closer again. Close enough for me to smell his musky cologne and hear his heart beating.
