Just then I hear a slow clap from behind. I push myself up, brushing the dust off my shirt, and turn my head. Siya Vardhaan is here, standing outside the stable barricade.
She is dressed for the hills today. High-waisted ivory riding trousers tucked neatly into polished tan leather boots. A deep wine silk blouse, with the top two buttons left undone, and a camel jacket draped over her shoulders. Her hair is left open, swaying slightly with the mountain breeze, catching flecks of sunlight. She’s a kind of beauty that isn’t meant to be touched, only admired from afar. And she shouldn’t be in this part of the estate.
The stables are private. Guests are only allowed to visit the designated areas: the vineyards, tasting rooms, and manicured lawns. Not here. Yet, she stands at the barricade as if she has always had access.
“I expected more grace from the great RK,” she calls out from across the arena. “Is this how you impress your guests?”
There is mischief in her eyes. I rise fully, rolling my shoulders once to ease the sting in my ribs. Rogan circles me, still agitated.
“This section isn’t open to guests,” I tell her, keeping my voice even. “You took a wrong turn.”
“I followed the noise,” she replies lightly, “and got lucky. Because I didn’t expect to find you losing.”
A faint smirk touches my lips.I never lose.And she will learn that soon enough. I turn to Rogan the moment he charges again. This time, I step into his movement instead of away from it. My hand slides higher on the reins, closer to his jaw, steadying him before he can break away. Rogan fights. He pulls, every muscle in his body straining beneath my grip.
But I don’t raise my voice. I don’t yank at him either. I just wait… until he realises that fighting me will change nothing.
When he rears up again, I bring him down with the lightest pressure and mount him in one swift motion, swinging up ontohis bare back without a saddle. His body trembles beneath me. Rogan surges once more, then settles, the fight leaving him, and soon we begin to move. Sand kicks up behind us as I guide him around the arena, all the while feeling her eyes on me.
When I finally bring the stallion to a halt near the barricade, he is breathing hard but no longer defiant. My men step in and take the reins as I dismount, my gaze never leaving Siya. She doesn’t look away either, not even when I walk towards the wooden barrier and stop a few feet away.
“What’s his name?” she asks, her gaze darting briefly to the stallion as he’s led away by my men.
“I said you are not supposed to be here,” I say, my voice firmer now. “This is private property.”
She tilts her head slightly, as if considering whether to take offense or be amused.
“And what will you do about it, RK? Fine me? Throw me out?”
Her choice of tone is deliberate. So is the way she says my name.
I meet her gaze without blinking. “That depends on how often you plan to break the rules on my property. You slipped past my security cameras without leaving a trace and trespassed around my private residence last night. And now you’re in my private arena, as if the word‘restricted’doesn’t apply to you.”
“You have property rules?” she frowns. “I don’t remember agreeing to any of them while checking into your resort,” she adds smoothly.
The air between us thickens. I hold her gaze longer than necessary, not to intimidate her, but to figure her out. First at my villa last night and now here at the stable. She is everywhere she’s not supposed to be. This isn’t just a coincidence.
“How did you find me?” I ask.
She shrugs carelessly. “I just told you. I heard the horse and—”
I step closer to the barricade.
“How did you find mehere?” I repeat, slower this time.
And by ‘here,’ I mean in Shivtara Valley.
Her pupils darken slightly as understanding dawns. She knows exactly what I’m asking now. But just as she parts her lips to respond, footsteps approach behind her, and her guard, Michael, steps into view. His gaze moves from her to me, pausing a fraction too long, the disapproval evident at finding her speaking with me.
“What are you doing here?” he asks roughly. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Siya doesn’t turn to him immediately. She keeps her gaze on me for a second longer, as if finishing a conversation he has no right to interrupt. Only then does she glance sideways at him.
“I’m free to walk wherever I please, Michael,” she replies. “Your job is to sniff around and follow.” Her eyes flick over him briefly, dismissively. “And do it quietly. I don’t need your shadow announcing itself every time I take a step around here.”
The irritation in her voice feels personal. Siya Vardhaan doesn’t mind being guarded. She just hates beingcontrolled.
Michael shifts slightly, positioning himself closer to her side. “Boss has been trying to reach you,” he adds. “He wants to speak to you.”
