Chapter 16
Her laughter faded, leaving behind a silence that felt heavier than before. Charged. Expectant.
Raghav watched her with hunger, as if her smile had broken something loose inside him, some final restraint he’d been clinging to.
He swept her into his arms. One arm curved beneath her knees, the other supporting her back. He lifted her effortlessly, holding her against his chest as if she weighed nothing.
“Raghav!” she gasped, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck for balance. “What are you—”
“There’s more,” he said, already moving through the suite with confident strides. He carried her past the gallery of photographs toward an adjoining door she hadn’t noticed earlier. “I didn’t bring you here just to look at pictures.”
He pushed open an adjoining door with his shoulder.
The sight inside stole the rest of her breath.
The room glowed.
Hundreds of candles flickered across the floor and along low surfaces, their light pooling in warm gold against pale walls. Rose petals trailed in soft curves across white linen and polished wood. The air was thick with a promise of something Ishani dared not name.
Beyond the room, glass doors opened to a private terrace. Mumbai shimmered outside—a sea of lights stretching into the dark horizon like scattered stars.
Soft music floated through the space, low and steady, almost like a heartbeat beneath the silence.
Raghav stepped fully inside and nudged the door closed behind them with his foot. The world outside disappeared.
“I told you I researched,” he murmured, his voice rough against her ear as he set her down in the center of the room.
Her heels barely steadied on the carpet before his hands were at her waist again. His fingers spread across her lower back, drawing her forward until there wasn’t an inch of space between them. The silk of her dress did nothing to shield her from the heat of his palms.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, then lifted slowly. Possessive. Focused.
“Dance with me.”
It wasn’t a suggestion.
She inhaled to answer—to tease, to challenge—but he closed the distance before the words formed. His mouth found hers with intent. It was hunger long restrained finally allowed to surface.
He kissed like he meant to memorize her.
Her fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt, gripping hard. He adjusted instantly, one hand sliding higher along her spine, the other tightening at her waist, anchoring her as if he’d anticipated the exact second her knees would soften.
When he broke the kiss, it was only to look at her.
Dark eyes. Heavy-lidded. Devouring.
Then his mouth moved again, this time along the curve of her jaw. Slow. Deliberate. He traced the line of her throat, breath warm against her skin. Ishani’s head tilted back without permission from her brain, offering him more.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
“You have no idea,” he said against the sensitive hollow beneath her ear, voice thick with desire, “how long I’ve imagined this.”
His lips brushed the base of her throat, right above the diamond resting against her skin. The faint scrape of his stubble sent a shiver through her that felt dangerously close to surrender.
Her hands tightened on his shoulders.
He began to move them then—not in polished ballroom steps, but in something closer. Slower. Controlled. His palm at her hip guided the rhythm. A subtle pressure forward. A slight pull back. His body lead hers with confidence.
“I couldn’t concentrate the day you wore this shade,” he murmured, eyes flicking down the burgundy silk before returning to her face. “You walked into my office and expected me to discuss numbers.”
A faint, dangerous smile touched his mouth.
“I barely survived it.”
His thumb traced the curve of her waist, just enough to make her gasp softly. He felt it. Every reaction. Every shift of her breath.
And he tightened his hold.
To remind her she wasn’t slipping away.
They moved together, bodies aligned, tension coiling tighter with each slow turn.
Ishani stared up at him, barely recognizing the man before her.
Raghav Khanna, always impeccable, always controlled, looked completely undone.
His hair fell across his forehead where her fingers had messed it earlier.
The top buttons of his shirt had come undone—had she done that?
—exposing the skin at his throat that rose and fell with uneven breaths.
A flush had crept up his neck, coloring the sharp edge of his jawline.
But it was his eyes that shocked her most, wild with naked want, completely unguarded for the first time since she’d known him.
“You’re staring,” he said, his voice dropping to that low register that made her stomach tighten.
“You look different,” she replied honestly.
His mouth curved slightly. “Different good or different bad?”
“Different...” She searched for the right word. “Real.”
Something shifted. Something quieter.
His grip tightened just slightly at her waist. Candlelight carved shadows along his cheekbones, softened his expression.
Up close, she noticed details she’d never been allowed to before—the faint scar at the corner of his mouth, the way his lashes were darker than she expected, the tension that still pulsed in his jaw.
“I need to tell you something,” Raghav said suddenly, his voice serious enough to cut through the haze of sensation surrounding her. He slowed their movement but didn’t release her. “Before this goes any further.”
Ishani looked up at him, pulse quickening at his tone. “What is it?”
His eyes held hers, unflinching even as the muscle in his jaw tightened. “My parents have arranged a meeting. With a potential bride.”
The words hung between them, heavy with implication. Ishani went still in his arms, her breath catching in her throat.
“When?” she asked carefully.
“Next week.” His hands tightened slightly at her waist, as if afraid she might pull away. “I wanted you to hear it from me. I’ve been putting them off for months, but my father finally insisted.”
Ishani swallowed, mind racing. She should tell him now.
Tell him that she was the woman his parents had chosen, that her father and his had been negotiating this match for months.
That her taking the job at Khanna Consolidated had been a way for her to evaluate him before agreeing to the arrangement.
“Raghav, I—”
“I’m going to tell them no,” he continued, cutting off her words. “I want no secrets between us. Once I make my parents understand what I want—who I want—they’ll come around. Then they’ll formally approach your parents for marriage.”
He delivered these words with the same certainty he used when announcing corporate decisions—direct, unapologetic, leaving no room for debate.
“You don’t know my parents,” Ishani began, needing to tell him the truth.
“I know mine,” he replied. “And I know what I want.”
Before she could continue, he bent and captured her mouth again, the kiss deep and possessive. His fingers slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head as he angled her face exactly how he wanted it. When he finally pulled back, they were both breathing heavily.
“Trust me,” he said against her lips. “I’ll handle everything.”
She lifted her head, her pulse dancing in her ears. “And at the office? What about us there?”
He paused, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “I want the world to know I was your secret admirer and that you are mine.”
She let her fingers trail along his chest, voice low and sultry. “Or we could keep it our delicious little secret,” she murmured. “A hidden office fling. I want to see the mighty Raghav Khanna romancing his assistant right under everyone’s noses.”
He darkly chuckled, confidence gleaming in his eyes. “You sure you can handle your Boss romancing you in the office secretly?”
Ishani lightly punched his chest, eyes shy, fighting a smile. He had no idea. No idea at all that the woman his parents had chosen was standing in his arms. That the “secret admirer” game had been completely unnecessary. They’d been destined to meet formally next week regardless.
She leaned her head against his chest, hiding her expression as they continued to sway to the music. Let him think he was the one who had planned everything perfectly. Let him believe he’d won her through his elaborate Valentine’s scheme and not through a traditional arrangement.
The truth could wait. For tonight, she’d enjoy his triumph while savoring her own. After all, she’d spent months evaluating him, watching him work, learning his character when he thought no one was looking. And she’d made her decision long before the first rose appeared on her desk.
Raghav Khanna had passed her test with flying colors. And he didn’t even know he’d been taking it.
His heart beat steady and strong against her cheek, a rhythm that seemed to say mine, mine, mine with each pulse. The scent of roses surrounded them, heavy and intoxicating in the warm air.
A perfect ending to her perfect plan.