CHAPTER 9
Rajat’s Farmhouse Party
The moment they were alone, Karan almost snapped.
“What are you doing here? Only because you got to know I’m here partying with my friends, you gate-crashed the party? What kind of wife does that make you, Mishti?”
Mishti hadn’t expected any less bitter words from him.
“And you behaving possessively for me before your friends, only to treat me like a stranger back home whom you hate, what kind of husband does that make you?”
Karan’s jaw clenched as she continued.
“I seek no pleasure in following you everywhere. But Rajat invited me. He called me personally. It would’ve been rude to decline,” she said quietly. “He’s your best friend, and now my friend too. I didn’t want to offend him.”
“No, Rajat’s not your friend,” he said, before taking another step toward her, when suddenly Rajat approached them.
“Whoa, whoa. What’s with the interrogation? I invited her, Karan. It’s not a crime.”
Karan turned his glare toward him. “You should’ve informed me before you did.”
“I’d invited you both. It’s not my fault that you didn’t convey my invitation to her. Anyway, now what’s the issue?”
“She’s leaving after dinner,” Karan declared firmly.
Rajat’s smile faded. “Leaving? It’s already past eleven, Karan. The roads back to Mumbai aren’t safe this late, even with a driver.” He glanced at Mishti and then back at Karan. “You are staying here already. So why can’t Mishti stay with us?”
Mishti shook her head quickly. “No, that’s not necessary—”
“It is,” Rajat interrupted. “No arguments. You’re not ruining my birthday by driving home half-asleep on those hills. You’re staying. End of discussion.”
A few of the other friends who’d overheard joined in. “Come on, Mishti! You can’t ditch the party host! Besides, what’s the rush when Karan’s here too?”
Their persuasion continued. Karan felt the collective gaze on them both. Every instinct of his wanted to refuse, to drag her out of there and away from these knowing smiles. But he also knew the cost. One wrong action, and the gossip would explode.
He exhaled through his nose. “Fine. She’ll stay.”
Rajat grinned triumphantly. “Perfect. Now let’s cut the cake.”
Everyone followed. Rajat made sure to take Mishti along too, almost saving her from more of Karan’s temper.
Karan gave her a hard look, though, the kind that said ‘this conversation is not finished’ before letting her walk away.
“He’s pretending to be angry,” Rajat said, leaning closer as he led her towards the cake. “You walking in tonight threw him completely off balance.”
Mishti smiled faintly, looking down. “He’s always angry.”
“Yeah,” Rajat said knowingly. “But not like this. This time, it’s very personal.”
Mishti shrugged, having no idea if that was true.
Kanika, who had been silently watching all this, finally approached Karan again.
“Remember what you had said a while ago, Karan? That when you get jealous, I would know?”
Karan glared at her, knowing what she was about say.
“I know now,” she said with bitterness on her tongue. “I know now how jealousy looks on Karan Wadhwa.”
Karan ignored her and strode away in that same fury which had been circling him ever since Mishti had shown up here tonight.
****************
After the party
Rajat personally showed Mishti to the guest room on the upper floor. It was large and cosy, dimly lit with warm yellow lamps and a balcony overlooking the moonlit hills.
“This will be yours and Karan’s room for the night,” he said, flashing a friendly grin.
“Thank you,” she replied softly, glancing around. “And… thank you for inviting me. It felt nice meeting all of Karan’s friends. They were all so kind.”
Rajat smiled, genuinely pleased. “I’m glad you came. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”
Her eyes darted around the room, almost searching. “Where’s Karan?”
“On a drink spree, as usual,” Rajat said with a light shrug. “But don’t worry, I’ll bring him up when he’s done.”
She nodded. The moment Rajat left, a strange silence filled the space again.
Mishti stared at the room and then at the empty bed.
This was the first time she’d be sharing a room with Karan, even if it was only for a night.
She knew he had agreed to it only to avoid drama in front of their friends.
Nothing more. Still, the thought of being in one room with him made her pulse flutter.
With a deep breath, she decided to change out of her saree first before he showed up in the room.
But the moment her hand reached behind to loosen the satin doris of her blouse, they snagged and twisted even more.
Maria had warned her she might need help removing this blouse tonight.
But here, in this unfamiliar room with no one to turn to, she stood helpless, unable to untangle the stubborn knots on her own.
Gritting her teeth, Mishti tried again, standing before the dressing mirror.
Her fingers fumbled with the knots, trying to loosen them one by one, but the satin strings had only tightened around each other, forming a stubborn, impossible knot.
How on earth was she supposed to get out of this now?
Her arm throbbed as she tried again, desperation clouding her face.
That’s when the door clicked open, and Karan stepped inside, reeking faintly of whiskey and scotch.
Despite all the alcohol, his steps were steady.
For just a fleeting second, his gaze locked with hers in the mirror, before it slid downward to where her shaking fingers fought the tangled doris of her shimmering black blouse.
It didn’t take him long to realise the doris had twisted helplessly from her struggle.
Besides, this was definitely not the kind of welcome he’d expected when Rajat had mentioned they would be staying in the same bedroom tonight.
Something hot fluttered in his chest as he realised he would have to share the bed with her.
This was exactly why he had never given her Rajat’s birthday invite.
He knew that in front of his friends, he wouldn’t have the luxury of keeping her in a separate room if she came along.
But no matter how much he created distance between them, Mishti had always found her way to erase it.
And the mess she was in right now was far beyond the simple problem of being forced to share a room.
The sight of her struggling silently with those tangled doris… her fingers shaking… her uneven breath… it clawed at something inside him. He could’ve ignored it. He should have.
But maybe it was the alcohol.
Maybe it was the way she looked so helpless yet so determined not to ask for his help.
Maybe it was something else entirely.
Whatever it was, it pushed him forward, one slow step at a time, before he even realised he’d moved.
Mishti froze the moment she saw him step inside the room.
Her fingers stilled immediately on the tangled doris, and she spun around, breath catching in her throat.
He was walking toward her, with a look in his eyes that sent every alarm in her body ringing.
Something about the way he looked at her right now screamed danger to Mishti’s mind.
Words choked in her throat, making her wonder where she should start.
Should she explain again that she hadn’t meant to overstep by arriving on Rajat’s invitation without informing him?
Should she apologise for the fact that he would have to share a room with her tonight, something he clearly despised?
Or should she do the unthinkable and ask for his help with the tangled knot on her blouse?
The thoughts came too fast, too jumbled.
She couldn’t pick one before he reached her.
Without a word, Karan gripped her shoulders and turned her around, gently, but firm enough to steal her breath again.
Confusion and fear tangled inside her chest. But once again her questions died before they could form.
She let him turn her around, their eyes now locking in the reflection of the mirror.
His intense gaze in the reflection held her trapped more than his hands ever could.
She curled her fingers around the edge of her saree to steady herself, to keep those erratic heartbeats in check when slowly, Karan’s gaze dropped to her back.
His fingers grazed against her skin, sliding along the satin ties, teasing, gliding, tracing the lines of her bare back as if punishing her with how gently he could touch. Gentle and Karan? Never matched.
A soft gasp slipped from her lips. What was he doing?
Her eyes fluttered shut, desperate to block the heat that rushed through her veins.
His touch wasn’t angry. It wasn’t cold. It wasn’t even detached.
It was the most subtle one, the kind which made her body ache with warm feelings, right in the pit of her stomach.
Holding her still, he untangled the knots one by one, his touch almost punishingly gentle.
When Mishti felt the warm brush of his breath against her neck, her knees turned weak in an instant.
The knots loosened slowly. When the final knot came undone, she instinctively clutched the blouse to her chest, holding it in place and lifted her gaze to the mirror again.
His eyes were still on her, hungry and completely intense.
His Adam’s apple bobbed hard, as if restraining something he had no right to feel… the ache to close the distance, the torment of denying the urge to pull his wife into his arms, to kiss every inch of her bare skin, to claim what he had vowed never to touch.
The next second, his gaze dropped slowly to her trembling grip on the blouse at the front.
The fabric had slipped dangerously from her shoulder, hanging by mere inches, ready to fall if she relaxed even slightly.
The moment he registered how close she was to being bare before him, his eyes darkened.
Even Mishti shut her eyes tight, unable to process what the next second might bring.