Chapter 8
The soft, melodic ringing of church bells echoed across the tranquil waters of Lake Como, gently pulling Shruti from her sleep.
She opened her eyes and blinked against the golden morning light streaming through the arched French doors of her suite.
Walking out onto her private stone balcony in her silk pajamas, she took a long, deep breath of the crisp alpine air.
The morning fog was slowly lifting from the dark blue water, revealing the majestic, snow-capped peaks of the Italian Alps towering in the background.
Across the lake, the ancient stone houses of Bellagio shimmered in pastel shades of pink, yellow, and apricot under the early sun.
Shruti smiled, resting her hands against the cool stone balustrade. After the terrifying stress of Mumbai and the constant threat of Reyansh Khanna, Lake Como felt like a paradise where time itself had slowed down.
A soft knock at her bedroom door interrupted her thoughts.
"Come in!" Shruti called out, walking back inside.
Gia Moretti pushed the door open, holding a silver tray laden with fresh Italian pastries, sliced peaches, and two small porcelain cups of dark espresso. She was dressed in a breezy summer dress, her dark curls bouncing cheerfully.
"Buon giorno, Shruti!" Gia greeted with a radiant smile, setting the tray down on the small marble bistro table near the balcony. "Did you sleep well?"
"I slept like a baby, Gia," Shruti smiled warmly, sitting down at the table. "This place is paradise."
"It is," Gia agreed, pouring a cup of espresso. "Akhil built this villa six years ago, but he rarely stays here for more than two days because of his hectic business schedule. But since you arrived... I have never seen him so relaxed. He has been up since six o'clock, preparing his boat."
Shruti paused, her espresso cup halfway to her lips. "Preparing his boat?"
"Si!" Gia grinned mischievously, winking at her. "He is taking you out on the lake today. He told me to tell you to wear something comfortable and bring your camera. The boss is acting as your official tour guide today!"
Shruti’s heart gave a sudden, happy flutter. She quickly finished her coffee, washed her face, and dressed for the morning outing.
She chose a pair of comfortable white linen trousers, a sleeveless light-blue striped cotton shirt tied loosely at her waist, and simple leather sandals.
She pulled her dark hair back into a low ponytail, put on a pair of dark sunglasses, and slung her favorite professional camera over her shoulder.
When Shruti walked down the stone garden steps leading to the private boathouse, her breath caught in her throat.
Standing on the wooden dock, securing a rope around a brass cleat, was Akhil.
He was dressed casually in a crisp white linen shirt with the top three buttons unbuttoned, charcoal-grey tailored shorts, and boat shoes. His dark hair was messy from the morning breeze, and his broad, muscular shoulders filled out the light shirt effortlessly.
Moored beside the dock was his private boat, a breathtaking vintage Italian Venetian speedboat made of hand-polished, gleaming dark mahogany wood with cream leather seating and chrome accents.
As Shruti’s leather sandals clicked against the stone steps, Akhil looked up.
His dark eyes swept over her frame, taking in her breezy linen outfit, her wind-blown hair, and her cheerful smile. A slow, handsome smirk spread across his face as he offered his broad hand down to help her step onto the boat.
"Good morning, Miss Malhotra," Akhil spoke, his deep voice rich and smooth in the fresh morning air. "Ready for your two-star tour?"
Shruti chuckled, placing her hand into his warm, solid grip as she stepped onto the polished wooden deck of the boat. "I'm keeping my expectations very low, Mr. Raheja. You have a lot to prove."
"Fair enough," Akhil smiled, his fingers lingering around hers for a second before he released her hand.
Shruti settled into the comfortable cream leather passenger seat, placing her camera on her lap.
Akhil unhooked the mooring ropes, stepped behind the polished wooden steering wheel, and started the engine.
The powerful V8 engine let out a deep, satisfying purr that vibrated through the boat as Akhil guided the sleek vessel away from the villa’s stone dock and out onto the open, glass-like surface of Lake Como.
***
For the next two hours, the mahogany speedboat glided smoothly across the sparkling blue water, carving a trail of white foam behind them.
The cool wind whipped through Shruti’s hair as she leaned back against the leather seat, snapping high-resolution photos of the breathtaking scenery. Akhil navigated the boat with effortless skill, pointing out famous historical landmarks along the shoreline.
"That over there," Akhil said, pointing towards a dramatic cliffside peninsula covered in lush terraced gardens, "is Villa del Balbianello. It was built in the late eighteenth century on the site of a Franciscan monastery. Several famous international films were shot on those balconies."
Shruti brought her camera lens to her eye, zooming in on the grand stone arches and ivy-covered balustrades rising out of the water. "It looks magical, Akhil. I can see why filmmakers fall in love with this place."
Akhil turned his head slightly, his dark eyes fixing on her face instead of the villa. "People fall in love with a lot of things on this lake, Shorty," he murmured softly.
Shruti lowered her camera, her dark eyes meeting his. The deep, heavy intensity in his gaze made her heart skip a beat. She quickly cleared her throat, trying to cover her sudden blush with a playful smirk.
"So, Mr. Billionaire Tour Guide," Shruti teased, standing up carefully and walking over to stand beside him at the steering wheel, holding onto the chrome handrail. "Do you actually know how to drive this thing, or are we going to crash into a ferry?"
Akhil raised a dark eyebrow, amused. "I’ve been driving boats on this lake for seven years, Shruti. I think I know what I'm doing."
"Is that so?" Shruti grinned, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Let me try!"
"You want to drive?" Akhil asked, looking at her with skepticism. "Shruti, this is a vintage mahogany speedboat, not a bumper car."
"I have a driver's license, Akhil!" Shruti shot back, placing her hands on her hips. "And I drove a wooden motorboat down the Mekong River in Vietnam two months ago! Come on, don't be stingy!"
Akhil chuckled, shaking his head with a mixture of fond exasperation and amusement. "Fine. But stand right here."
Akhil stepped back slightly, keeping his body positioned right behind her as Shruti took hold of the polished wooden steering wheel.
The moment she grabbed the wheel, a sudden gust of wind pushed the boat slightly off course. Shruti gasped, accidentally pulling the throttle forward too quickly. The speedboat surged forward over a rolling wave, splashing spray into the air.
"Whoa!" Shruti yelped, her hands tightening on the wheel.
Before she could panic, Akhil stepped directly behind her.
He wrapped his broad frame around her back, his chest pressing firm and warm against her spine. His long, strong arms reached around her waist, his broad hands covering hers on the wooden steering wheel.
"Easy, Shorty," Akhil’s deep, gravelly voice whispered right against her ear, his hot breath brushing against her neck and sending a violent shiver straight down her spine. "Gentle on the throttle. Ease it back slightly."
Shruti’s breath completely caught in her throat.
She was completely encased in his warmth.
She could feel every solid muscle of his broad chest resting against her back, his powerful arms framing her body, and the rich, intoxicating scent of his sandalwood cologne and fresh sea breeze wrapping around her senses like a spell.
Her heart hammered against her ribs so loudly she was certain he could feel it against his chest.
Akhil adjusted his grip over her hands, slowly easing the throttle back until the boat glided smoothly across the water once again.
Neither of them moved for several long seconds.
Akhil didn't step back. His hands remained wrapped over hers on the wheel, his chin resting just inches above her shoulder. Looking down, he could see the soft crimson flush spreading across her golden cheek and the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
"Better?" Akhil whispered softly, his voice dropping an octave, turning thick and velvety against her skin.
"Y-Yeah," Shruti stammered, her voice small and breathy, unable to focus on the water ahead because every nerve ending in her body was screaming with awareness of him. "Better."
Akhil’s grip on her hands tightened subtly. For a second, he buried his face slightly into the crook of her neck, inhaling the sweet, floral scent of her dark hair.
The air between them turned thick with a heavy, electric tension, an unspoken charge that threatened to consume both of them right there in the middle of the lake.
"Akhil..." Shruti breathed, her fingers tightening under his.
Akhil took a slow, heavy breath, mastering his roaring pulse with immense effort. He slowly pulled his body back a few inches, putting a safe distance between them, though his hand remained gently over hers on the steering wheel.
"You're doing great," Akhil murmured, his voice slightly rough. "Keep us heading towards Bellagio."
Shruti swallowed hard, her cheeks burning as she steered the boat towards the shore, her heart racing wildly against her chest. She knew then, without a single doubt, that hiding her feelings from Akhil was becoming an impossible task.
***
By two o'clock in the afternoon, they returned to Villa Raheja.
The midday sun was warm and bright, casting a golden glow over the courtyard gardens. Gia met them at the stone terrace, holding a clipboard and looking amused.
"Did you survive his boat driving, Shruti?" Gia teased as they walked up the stone steps.
"Barely," Shruti laughed, shooting Akhil a playful glance. "He almost let me crash into a movie villa!"