Page 46 of His Arranged Wife
They didn't do this. Didn't make small talk or ask about each other's days.
Her eyes widened in surprise. "My day?"
"Yes. What did you do?"
"I... wrote. Worked on my manuscript. Went to the market for some research books."
She was at the market today. Alone.
His jaw tightened, but he kept his voice even. "What kind of research?"
"For my current book. It's set in a bookstore, so I wanted to get the details right. The smells, the atmosphere, the types of customers." She was babbling now, words spilling out nervously. "I know I could probably just Google it, but I like experiencing things firsthand. It makes the writing more authentic."
"You went alone."
It wasn't a question.
Her expression shuttered slightly. "I always go alone. I don't have security, remember? Not important enough."
The bitterness in her tone was subtle but there.
"You're getting a security detail," he said abruptly.
"What? Why?"
"Because I said so."
"That's not a reason—"
"Because you're my wife, and you will be protected accordingly." His voice hardened. "Non-negotiable."
She stared at him for a long moment, something unreadable in her eyes. "This is about the bracelet, isn't it? The one someone sent me."
"Partially."
"I didn't ask for it. I don't even know who sent it."
"I know." His hand moved before he could stop it, reaching up to wipe the smudge of chocolate from the corner of her mouth with his thumb.
She went very still, her breath catching.
He should pull away. Put the distance back between them.
Instead, he brought his thumb to his mouth and licked off the chocolate, maintaining eye contact.
Her pupils dilated, her lips parting slightly.
The air between them shifted, charged with the same electricity that always sparked when they were alone together.
"Samarth—"
He didn't let her finish. He stood, grasped her waist, and lifted her onto the kitchen counter. Her legs parted automatically to accommodate him as he stepped between them.
"This is all I can give you," he said, his voice rough with desire and something darker. "This hunger. This need. Nothing else."
"I know," she whispered.
Did she? Did she really understand that he was broken in ways she couldn't fix? That he'd been forged in violence and betrayal, that gentleness and tenderness had been burned out of him years ago?
