Page 130 of The Defiant Wife

Slowly.

Tenderly.

The kind of kiss that says everything words never could.

She smiles against my lips, her fingers slipping into my hair once more as the world outside our room fades away.

For tonight, nothing else matters.

She's here.

She's safe.

And she's finally home.

55. THE MECHANICS OF BALANCE

DIYA

The stable courtyard is bathed in the warm golden light of the late afternoon when I finally convince Veeraj to wheel out the Royal Enfield.

Ever since our first ride to the orchard canyon, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. But today I don't want to sit behind him like a passenger. I want to learn how to ride it myself. I want to understand the machine, to feel the engine beneath my hands, even if the sight of the heavy bike makes my stomach flutter a little.

Veeraj leans against the stone mounting block with his arms folded across his chest, watching me walk toward the motorcycle. A slow, knowing smirk spreads across his face.

His sleeves are rolled up, exposing his strong forearms, and the way he's looking at me makes my heart beat just a little faster before I even touch the handlebars.

"You're staring at that clutch as if it's a tax file you're determined to reject, Trouble," he says, his deep voice full of amusement.

He pushes himself off the wall and slowly walks toward me.

"Riding a bike like this is all about balance, not arguing with it." His smile grows wider. "Are you really here to learn . . . or are you just looking for another excuse to drag me back to the orchard?"

"I am completely serious, Kunwar Sa," I huff, placing my hands on my hips."I run an NGO. I'm perfectly capable of learning how to ride a motorcycle without your royal commentary."

I glance down at my hands. The pale patches of vitiligo are fully visible in the sunlight now, but I don't even think about hiding them anymore. Not when he always looks at them like they're something beautiful.

"So . . . " I look back at him. "Show me where the ignition is before I start auditing your palace travel expenses."

A laugh escapes him.Before I can say anything else, he steps behind me.His body is so close that I can feel his warmth immediately.

He places his hands over mine on the handlebars, his palms covering my fingers as he gently adjusts my grip.

My breath catches.

I'm completely surrounded by him now, my back resting lightly against his chest. The familiar scent of his woodsmoke cologne fills my senses, making it very difficult to remember why I wanted to learn the bike in the first place.

He leans closer until his chin is almost brushing my shoulder.

"The ignition is right here," he murmurs near my ear, guiding my thumb toward the switch.

I press it.

The engine roars to life beneath us, the powerful vibration running through the bike and straight into my legs.

He keeps one hand over mine while the other gently steadies the handlebar.

"Good," he says softly.