-42-
A breeze passed through them, making her keenly aware of the rustling grass and trees around her.
The scent of the earth itself felt incredibly calming to her frayed nerves.
Yet, this man standing so close to her made her heart beat rapidly.
She could never understand why he affected her this much.
Even now, he looked down at her, satisfied with her reaction as if he had won a glorious war.
The slight smirk on his lips stood as a silent witness to his pride over the absolute control he held over her.
She almost scoffed at his pitiful pride, rolling her eyes before meeting his gaze again. He raised an eyebrow teasingly, watching her reaction.
"So, where do I take you next, wife?" he purred close to her right ear. The words made her toes curl, her eyes shutting on their own accord as her breathing turned heavy. He knew exactly what he was doing to her, and he had no plans of stopping anytime soon.
Letting out a shaky breath, she tilted her head back to pull away from him, narrowing her eyes. Even though her face was burning red and everything inside her screamed to cast her gaze downward, she refused to look away.
"Stop calling me that," she hissed at him.
Her words were meant to cut like a blade, but they came out as nothing more than a breathless, shaky plea.
Raghav raised his eyebrows and moved even closer, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her flush against him.
He reached up to trace her cheekbone with his other hand, studying her features closely.
"Are you trying to lose weight?" he asked, examining her face to evaluate if she had recently lost any of the soft fullness he hadn't noticed before. Her forehead puckered with frown lines at his words, and she glared daggers at him.
"Stop looking at me like that," she warned, poking her finger against his jaw to push his face away. The push was light—barely a tap—but Raghav's head actually turned slightly from the contact. It was a complete shock to his system.
No one ever touched him like that. Not casually.
Not dismissively. He blinked once. Then slowly—so slowly—his jaw tightened again.
But this time, something shifted in the air.
She peeked up at him, sensing the silence that followed turn electric; it was thick with tension, but not angry. Not hostile.
He didn't snap. He didn't glare. Instead, he just stared at the tree behind her, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as if he were fighting an internal battle.
A beat passed. Then another. Suddenly, he pulled away. Her face fell instantly. Had she done something wrong? She couldn't understand his sudden shift as he picked up his helmet.
"Raghav..."
"Stop that right now, Jayasvi. There is only a certain amount of control you can expect from a man like me. If you don't want to be pressed flat against my bike in the next second, get over it now," he stated, leaving absolutely no room for argument.
Her face burned with the implicit heat hidden behind those words.
"And I assure you, this time my lips won't be claiming the ones on your face, but the ones lower down," he added smoothly. She blinked slowly, still trying to comprehend his scandalous statement, before gasping out loud and slapping his shoulder while glaring at him.
He smiled mischievously at her.
"Don't tell me I didn't warn you," he drawled, his mocking tone making every inch of her body shiver. She fisted her hands, continuing to glare at him before finally mounting the bike.
"You are getting dirtier and dirtier with every passing day. Have some shame. The marriage is happening soon," she warned him, clutching the side of his jacket to balance herself while trying to maintain some physical distance between them.
"Control myself? Why would I do something like that?
" he teased, his eyes twinkling playfully as he turned to look at her, flashing a bright smile.
"In fact, it only ignites more emotions in me.
It's barely a matter of time before you'll be mine forever in every way possible.
Then I won't have to worry about some Aahan dumpster. "
He started the bike again. She noticed his shoulders were completely relaxed now; he wasn't angry anymore. His mood had still turn foul at the thought of Aahan. She didn't have any death wish to correct him in calling Aahan- a dumpster. Where does he even get such words?
"Raghav, I am hungry. I haven't eaten anything since morning," she told him.
If she went home without eating, her mother would ask probing questions, and she wasn't sharp enough to construct any plausible lies at the moment.
She was simply too starved for that. Her stomach felt as if it were collapsing in on itself.
"Oh yeah? Seems like the plan was to have a whole breakfast with your fanboy. I ruined it, didn't I?" he spoke in his familiar, mocking tone. She could easily hear the underlying taunt.
"I didn't eat anything. So yes, I need to eat. Is that such a massive problem?" she cut him off, entirely too hungry and frustrated to deal with his jealousy.
"If you wake up at eleven in the morning, of course you'll be hungry," he gritted out.
She frowned, trying to remember when she had ever told him about her sleeping schedule.
At this point, she couldn't even trust herself.
She talked so much that she had no idea how many details she had already accidentally shared with him.
But she was positive she hadn't shared this.
She was sharp enough not to disclose embarrassing things about her lazy routine.
So how did he know exactly when she woke up?
"Who told you I woke up that late?" she questioned him, genuinely curious.
He stilled for a fraction of a second, causing the bike to wobble slightly. She shrieked loudly, clutching his jacket tightly in a panic.
"For God's sake, Jayasvi, don't make such noises. Do you have a death wish? Who even reacts like that?" he scolded her, barely regaining steady control of the vehicle.
"You didn't answer my question. Don't think I forgot about it," she mumbled under her breath, not wanting to get scolded a second time.
He stayed silent for a while, concentrating on the road ahead.
"Isn't it obvious? It's around one o'clock and you haven't had anything until now.
Your eyes have dark circles as well, so I just made a wild, logical guess," he stated, shrugging his shoulders.
She blinked a few times. Was he really so adept at reading her that he could deduce such accurate conclusions?
Maybe. After all, he was a businessman—and a highly successful one at that. He knew exactly how to read a room.
He stopped the bike outside a quaint Italian restaurant nearby, a small family-run spot called Villa Lucia.
He took her hand firmly the moment they dismounted.
The place had a charming exterior: soft string lights were draped across the building, though they were currently turned off for the daytime.
Potted olive trees lined the entrance, and an elegant wooden sign displayed the name in cursive.
The windows were large and inviting. She could peek inside even from the street, catching glimpses of cozy tables set with crisp white tablecloths. Small vases filled with fresh roses sat in the center of each table, creating a romantic yet casual atmosphere.
Raghav opened the door for her, letting her enter first so she could take in the beauty of the place.
She noticed the smooth marble flooring beneath her feet and a few small iron chandeliers hanging from above, giving off a rustic Italian vibe.
It was a local spot where he sometimes ate lunch during business meetings in the area.
The owner remembered him well; they always saved him a quiet corner table.
He pointed upward toward the second level, where the windows were even larger. Taking her hand, he started walking her upstairs without another word.
Jayasvi gave him a puzzled look, never having been to an authentic Italian restaurant before.
She had no idea if she would even like the food.
These high-end places usually left her disappointed with how bland the dishes felt to her traditional taste buds.
While she felt completely out of place in this wealthy setting, Raghav walked in like he owned the establishment—not out of arrogance, but pure familiarity.
The owner, a middle-aged Italian woman named Signora Rosa, spotted him instantly.
"Ah! Signor Hooda!" she rushed over, beaming with joy, and immediately hugged him on instinct.
The hug was warm, motherly, and full of genuine affection, which surprised Jayasvi a bit.
It was crystal clear that Raghav was a regular customer who was truly adored by the woman.
She hadn't just greeted him; she had embraced him like a son.
Even Raghav looked completely relaxed with her, dropping the stiff, mountain-like exterior he usually maintained around others.
When the woman pulled back, her sharp eyes immediately landed on Jayasvi, curious but undeniably kind. She smiled brightly.
"It has been a while. Who is this beautiful girl with you?" she asked, her thick Italian accent rolling over the words as she looked between the couple with clear delight. Raghav didn't hesitate for even a second, gently placing a reassuring hand at the small of Jayasvi's back.
"My fiancé...", he gave a small pause to his words glancing at Jayasvi, a small smile tugging on his lips before looking at the lady again. "But in a few days, I'll introduce her to you as my wife."
It was simple and proud, with no trace of shyness behind it. Jayasvi's face flushed red again at the sudden announcement. He wasn't keeping her a secret anymore; he was proudly announcing her new title to the world.
Rosa's face lit up like Christmas morning the moment Raghav introduced her as his future wife. She gasped dramatically, both hands flying to her cheeks, then immediately pulled Jayasvi into a tight, perfumed hug before even asking for her name.
"Mamma mia! So beautiful!"
She squeezed her like a grandmother welcoming a long-lost granddaughter, then held her by the shoulders to study every detail of her face. The curve of her eyes, the softness of her lips... all while muttering in rapid Italian about how incredibly lucky Raghav was.
"Table for two? The special one?" her voice turned playful, as if offering the absolute best seat in the house. Jayasvi looked at Raghav, thoroughly confused and a little overwhelmed by the lady's bubbly energy. Her confusion did not go unnoticed by him.
He understood that she wasn't used to this kind of open warmth—to people touching her so freely or gushing over her appearance.
He had once been in her shoes. He could easily decipher the stiffness in her shoulders that plainly said: I don't know how to respond to this.
Stepping in, he gently pressed his hand against her back again in reassurance, nodding at the lady.
"Yes. The special table."
Then, he added quietly to Rosa, "She's shy."
It was a gentle warning—not for the woman to stop being friendly, but just to handle her a bit softer. Jayasvi gave Rosa a small smile, instinctively moving closer to Raghav to seek the familiar warmth of his body. Mrs. Rosa smiled knowingly and gestured for them to follow.
She led them through the dining area, past the other occupied tables, to a cozy nook where plush velvet cushions lined the wooden benches and fresh flowers bloomed on a side table.
Raghav moved past the older lady, pulling out a chair for Jayasvi first and gesturing to it as if she were royalty.
"Sit here, bella," Raghav murmured. She pressed her lips together to stop a bright smile from taking over her face. Even though she didn't know Italian, she knew exactly what bella meant.
"He always sits across from it. But now...
he will face you properly," the lady noted, turning to Raghav with a playful wink.
It was as if this seating arrangement was deeply symbolic—no more hiding behind work emails, phone screens, or heavy silence.
Just two people sharing a meal directly across from each other.
She snapped her fingers at a nearby waiter before leaving to fetch the menus herself.
"She wasn't wrong. You actually look adorable right now," Raghav pointed out, taking a slow sip from the glass of water the waiter had just placed in front of them.
Jayasvi narrowed her eyes at him, unused to him being this incredibly sweet.
She leaned back in her seat, watching him settle comfortably into his place.
"So, what exactly led you to visit that garbage tin today?" Raghav asked, his face instantly turning serious.
"Stop it, Raghav. I have explained it to you already," she warned him, pointing a strict finger in his direction.
"So the tin was trying to buy your love by purchasing breakfast for you?" Raghav questioned again, causing her frown to deepen further.
"For God's sake, Raghav, you'll end up giving me premature wrinkles. Why would I ever let him buy me breakfast? I brought my own money. I would have paid for my share even if I had eaten with him," she flung the words back at him, her hand gesturing dismissively in the air.
"But you aren't that dismissive about me paying for you," Raghav observed. He looked almost smug at the realization, as if having her allow him to pay for her meal was a grand achievement. In response, she picked up the sleek menu card and dumped it right over his head.
"Dumbo, whatever our dynamics are, you are still my fiancé.
As for Aahan, he is just a mere acquaintance.
I don't like to feel burdened by the thought of some random man spending his money on me," she pointed out.
He simply smiled foolishly at the explanation.
A small, involuntary smile appeared on her own lips as she noticed how genuinely thrilled he was by the fact that he held that exclusive advantage.
"I'll take you shopping after this," he spoke up, sudden excitement bleeding into his tone. She raised her eyebrows, watching his rapid shift in mood.
"Why would you do that?" she questioned just as the waiter arrived to serve their orders.
Raghav had already ordered for them ahead of time, selecting items he knew Jayasvi would enjoy.
First came the fragrant garlic bread nestled in a small basket, followed by a classic Margherita pizza boasting a golden crust and bubbling cheese.
Finally, the waiter set down a steaming plate of gnocchi bathed in a rich, rust-red tomato sauce.
Raghav watched intently as Jayasvi stared at the spread, the mouth-watering aroma quickly filling the cozy booth. The hesitation on her face was stark; this definitely wasn't the type of food she was accustomed to eating.
"I want to see you dressed up like mine. Try it," he smiled. It wasn't a demand, but a gentle encouragement.
"If you don't like it, just tell me. You don't have to force yourself to swallow something you find unappealing.
Your taste buds will develop to the flavor over time," he spoke softly.
He watched her hesitantly take a small bite of the pizza, trying to process the complex flavors.
Reaching across the table, he carefully wiped a stray crumb and a bit of sauce from her lower lip, noticing how her eyes instantly lit up with pure happiness at the taste.
"I am glad you like it," he murmured, patting her head softly.
He himself couldn't fully comprehend why he was acting so tenderly with her now, but something about her presence made his heart yearn for more time together.
She was truly affecting him more than he had ever cared to admit, and for the first time in his life, he didn't hate that vulnerability. He was actually growing to admire it.