Page 46 of One Hellish Wedlock
“I know,” she replied. “She only eats fruits for dinner. And that too before eight p.m.”
He nodded in quiet approval. That titbit had been part of her training with Sunny, and he appreciated that she’d memorized it.
“What did you eat while you were abroad?” he asked, more out of curiosity than conversation.
“I tried everything under the sun. But honestly, nothing beats Indian food.”
“Do you cook?” he asked next.
She froze mid-motion, her spoon hovering over the rice bowl, as she looked up at him.
“Wait… was I supposed to learn that for this contract? Sunny never mentioned a thing about cooking.”
Reyansh leaned back in his chair, amused. “Relax. I was just asking.”
“Thank God,” she exhaled, continuing to serve herself. “I can make sandwiches and burgers. Oh, and I can mix a mean cocktail too,” she added with a cheeky wink.
“That’s strictly prohibited under the contract,” he snapped. “I made that very clear.”
“I remember,” she said quickly. “I was joking. Can’t you say when I’m serious and when I’m not?”
“I’ve never seen you serious,” he shot back without blinking.
Her jaw dropped. “Then you should probably get your eyes checked.”
“Aanya…” he growled, her name a low warning. “Don’t speak to me like that.”
She dropped her spoon. “My bad. I forgot you’re the boss.”
“And the boss is always right,” he added smugly. “Now eat.”
She threw him a sharp glare from beneath her lashes but returned to her food without another word.
***************
“The hardest part comes now,” Aanya muttered once they returned to the bedroom after dinner. Her gaze flicked toward him. “Sleeping arrangements.”
Reyansh raised a brow. “What’s so hard about that? We’re sharing the bed.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re serious?”
“Not even slightly. ShouldIbe worried?” he teased.
Aanya let out a dry laugh and dropped onto the mattress.
“No. I mean, I don’t exactly jump on men who can’t stand me,” she said.
“And what about men who flirt with you?” he asked, his voice dipping into something darker. “Do you flirt back?”
There was a strange possessive note in his voice, maybe even jealous but she didn’t dare analyse it too much.
“Healthy flirting’s good for the soul. Keeps the mood light, makes you feel wanted. What’s wrong with that?” she said breezily.
He didn’t respond. Instead, he stepped forward, cupped her jaw in his hand, and tilted her chin until their eyes locked. Then he leaned in.
“For the next three months… you’remine. Flirting, healthy or not, is off the table.”
Something inside her jolted. Power surged through her veins, and for the first time in forever, she felt trulywanted, even if it came with conditions.
