Chapter 18 #2
The dinner went well on the outside. They talked about future plans and how to work together. Ishani shared numbers from memory, leaving her tablet untouched next to her plate. Raghav took charge of the conversation. He listened to the clients’ worries and answered each one clearly.
“The numbers look solid,” said Noah, the CFO, “but I’m concerned about market fluctuations in the Asian sector.”
“Ishani has analyzed those extensively,” Raghav replied. His eyes shifted to her, warm with something more than professional respect. “She’s brilliant at identifying patterns others miss.”
Heat crept up her neck at the praise, at the pride in his voice that went beyond a boss acknowledging an employee’s competence. She cleared her throat, focusing on the data rather than the man beside her.
“We’ve built contingencies into the projections,” she explained, leaning forward to point out specific figures on the printed materials. “Even with a twelve percent market downturn, the acquisition remains profitable within eighteen months.”
As she spoke, a strand of hair fell across her face. Before she could reach for it, Raghav’s hand was there, fingers brushing her cheek as he tucked the hair behind her ear. The gesture was automatic, intimate—the kind of thoughtless touch that belonged to private moments, not business dinners.
Ishani froze mid-sentence. Raghav’s fingers lingered at her temple for a heartbeat too long before he seemed to realize what he’d done. He withdrew his hand slowly, the gesture feeling more personal than the one that had touched her before.
A charged silence fell over the table.
Sarah glanced at her colleagues, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Noah cleared his throat, suddenly very interested in his wine glass. The third executive looked between Raghav and Ishani with undisguised curiosity.
“The projections,” Ishani continued, her voice admirably steady despite the heat in her cheeks. “As I was saying...”
The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of polite conversation and careful distance. Raghav kept his hands firmly on his side of the table. Ishani maintained perfect professional composure. But the damage was done.
When the cheque came, Sarah leaned forward with a smile. “I think this partnership will be extremely beneficial,” she said, eyes moving deliberately between Raghav and Ishani. “It’s always good to see... compatibility... in business relationships.”
The drive to Ishani’s apartment was silent, thick with unspoken words.
Mumbai’s night skyline blurred outside the windows as Raghav’s car cut through the traffic, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.
The air between them felt charged, heavy with the aftermath of their slipped control at dinner.
“I am sorry,” he said finally, voice tight. “The hair thing... it was unprofessional.”
Ishani turned to look at his profile, sharp and serious in the passing streetlights. “I think they were onto us before that.”
His mouth twitched. “Was it the way I looked at you? Or the fact that I nearly stabbed Noah with my fork when he asked for your direct number?”
Despite herself, Ishani laughed. “I didn’t notice that.”
“Good.” His hand left the wheel to find hers, fingers interlacing with firm possession. “I’ve been trying to behave all week.”
“Is that what you call it?” she asked, remembering the marks his mouth had left on her collarbone Wednesday afternoon. “Because Ansh might disagree after the fire alarm incident.”
Raghav’s thumb traced patterns on her palm, sending shivers up her arm. “I’ll give him a raise.”
They reached her apartment building too soon. Raghav parked but made no move to release her hand. The silence stretched between them, comfortable now, alive with possibility.
“I should go in,” she said, not moving.
“I’ll walk you to your door.”
It wasn’t a question.
Her apartment was on the fifth floor, at the end of a quiet hallway. The elevator ride was torture—standing close enough to feel his heat but not touching, both painfully aware of the security camera in the corner. When they reached her door, Ishani fumbled with her keys, suddenly nervous.
“Well,” she said, turning to face him. “Thank you for—”
She didn’t finish the sentence. Her fingers found his tie instead, wrapping around the silk, tugging him closer with gentle pressure. Raghav didn’t resist. His eyes darkened as he stepped into her space, one hand coming up to brace against the wall beside her head.
“Dangerous move, Ms. Rao,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. It made her stomach tighten.
She looked up at him. “What are you going to do about it?”
The challenge hung between them for one heartbeat, two, before Raghav closed the remaining distance.
His mouth found hers, his free hand sliding into her hair to angle her face exactly how he wanted it.
The kiss was different from their office encounters—deeper, without the fear of interruption, without the need to rush.
Ishani’s back pressed against her door as he crowded closer, his body a solid wall of heat against hers.
Her hands abandoned his tie to explore the firm muscle of his shoulders, the strong column of his neck, the soft hair at his nape.
He tasted like the wine from dinner and something darker, more essential.
When they broke apart to breathe, his forehead rested against hers, both of them panting slightly.
“Come inside,” she whispered, fingers already finding her keys again.
Raghav caught her wrist, stopping her. There was a restraint in the gesture. She saw it in the tightness of his jaw, the darkness of his eyes.
“If I come inside right now,” he said, voice rough with honesty, “I won’t leave until morning.”
“That’s the idea,” she replied, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
He groaned, arms tightening around her waist. “No. Not yet.” His hands framed her face, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You’re not a fling, Ishani. You’re not something quick and easy. When I come through that door, it’s because there’s nothing standing between us.”
She blinked, caught off-guard by the raw sincerity in his voice. “Nothing is standing between us.”
“Not yet,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But there will be. The moment my parents find out I’m refusing their arranged match, there will be consequences. I need to handle that first.”
The irony of his words made her bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. If only he knew.
“When?” she asked, fingers tracing the line of his jaw.
“Tonight I will tell my parents the truth. That I’ve found someone.” His voice dropped lower, certain. “That no arrangement they’ve made matters because I’ve already decided.” His thumb brushed her bottom lip. “And that they’d better get used to the idea of you, because I’m not letting you go.”
The possessiveness in his tone sent heat pooling low in her stomach.
“Go,” she said, pressing one last kiss to his lips before stepping out of his arms. “Deal with the arranged marriage thing tomorrow. Then come back.”
Raghav took a deliberate step backward, his eyes never leaving her face. “Tomorrow,” he promised, the word heavy with intention.
Ishani unlocked her door, hiding her smile as she stepped inside. Let him believe he was fighting for her against some unknown arranged match. Let him prepare his arguments and strategies. The surprise waiting for him would be worth every second of this charade.
The door closed between them, but the heat of his kiss lingered on her lips long after his footsteps faded down the hallway.