Page 85 of His Arranged Wife
Their gazes locked, something passing between them that neither could name.
Then he left, and Nimisha sat there, her heart racing, wondering if maybe—just maybe—her husband was starting to see her.
Really see her.
It was a dangerous hope.
But she couldn't quite crush it.
CHAPTER 13
Five Days Later - Main Drawing Room, 8:23 PM
The engagement party planning had taken over the entire house. Tanisha was in full bride-to-be mode, her excitement infectious to everyone except Nimisha.
And Samarth, whose expression had been carved from ice since Kabir arrived an hour ago.
The family had gathered for what Saroj called a "casual evening"—which meant formal clothes, catered food, and enough champagne to float a yacht.
Nimisha wore a simple but elegant salwar kameez in dusty rose, her hair in a neat braid. She'd positioned herself near the bookshelves, trying to be invisible.
It wasn't working.
Kabir's eyes kept finding her across the room.
"Nimisha, come help me with the dessert selection," Tanisha called. "You have good taste."
No, I don't,Nimisha thought.If I had good taste, I wouldn't have fallen in love with a man who can't love me back.
But she stood, moving toward the dessert table where an array of sweets had been laid out for tasting.
She was examining a particularly elaborate gulab jamun when she sensed someone behind her.
Too close.
"These look delicious," Kabir said, his voice low, intimate.
Nimisha stepped to the side, putting distance between them. "They do."
"Though nothing as sweet as you look tonight."
Her stomach turned. "That's inappropriate."
"Is it?" He moved closer again, effectively cornering her against the table. "I'm just complimenting my future sister-in-law."
"Kabir—"
"You look beautiful tonight, Nimisha." His eyes traveled down her body in a way that made her skin crawl. "That color suits you. Soft. Delicate. Like you."
"Thank you." She tried to move past him. "If you'll excuse me—"
His hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist. "Stay. Talk to me."
She froze, panic flaring in her chest. His grip wasn't painful, but it was firm. Possessive.
"Let go," she said quietly.
"We're just talking." His thumb stroked the inside of her wrist. "Samarth is very lucky to have you. Though I wonder if he appreciates what he has."
