Page 112 of Lawfully Yours
So, formal it was. Not even a sliver of acknowledgment about the night they’d just shared. Kushal let out a breath somewhere between a scoff and a laugh.
So that was her game? To pretend like nothing happened. To avoid it like it hadn’t left a crater between them.
He replied simply:Okay.
Then slid the phone aside and turned his attention back to Vivek, pretending to be fully invested in the conversation… even as his mind lingered somewhere else entirely.
*****************
An hour later
Arundhati walked out of the elevator with her back straight and her thoughts carefully aligned…or so she told herself.
She had rehearsed what to say to Kushal at least a dozen times since stepping out of the shower. Words like“I was drunk”and“it shouldn’t have happened”kept circling her mind. She had meant to tell him that she didn’t know why it happened or what it meant going forward. But the truth was, she had no real answers.
She had deliberately chosen a pair of skin-tight jeans and a thick, high-neck sweatshirt—everything covered, nothing revealed. Not a trace of skin on display. She wanted to appear simple and in control. A stark contrast to the way he had seen her last night…bare, vulnerable, dressed in nothing but lace panties by the time she had dozed off.
She could still feel his hands on her, remember how he’d looked at her when his fingers teased her sensitive folds.
She swallowed hard as she reached the lobby and paused at the quiet corner near the elevator. Taking a breath, she gave herself one final pep talk.“You’ve got this, Arundhati. Focus on work. That’s all that matters today. Nothing else.”
But the moment the elevator doors slid open, all that resolve wavered.
Because there he was.
Kushal stood at the reception desk, speaking to the same woman who had been visibly fawning over him since the day they checked in. And today, she hadn’t missed a beat either…she was leaning in, flashing a too-sweet smile.
But Arundhati barely registered the woman. Her eyes were on him.
Kushal was dressed in light-wash jeans and a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His wristwatch…that famous classic silver Rolex peeked through as he gestured casually. He looked effortlessly good. As she stepped closer, she caught a trace of his scent, pulling her straight back into the memory of his skin against hers, his breath on her neck, his mouth claiming every inch of her as if she belonged to him.
No. Don’t go there.
Kushal turned at that very moment, as if sensing her presence, and their eyes locked.
Everything she’d planned to say evaporated.
The practiced lines, the careful detachment, it all slipped from her mind, replaced by a storm of memory.
Her lips on his. His deep, guttural sounds as he lost himself in her. Her name on his breath as she’d arched beneath him. Her soft moans as she guided his hands to keep doing to her what he loved doing.
Heat bloomed under her skin. The sweatshirt suddenly felt like a wrong choice as she felt sweat beads forming on her forehead.
Even Kushal looked at her like he was one second away from dragging her back to that bed and continuing where they had stopped last night.
She almost stepped back when he moved toward her.
But that’s when the receptionist interrupted. “Your car is ready, sir.”
Just like that, the spell broke.
Kushal turned to take the keys, nodding curtly. Then he glanced back at Arundhati and gestured toward the exit.
She moved past him, too grateful for the distraction, yet far too aware of the weight of his gaze burning into her back.
The moment they reached the car, she fumbled awkwardly with the handle. Her fingers slipped once, then twice, her mind clearly somewhere else. She couldn’t even open a simple car door without feeling like her spine was melting under his gaze.
Maybe it was even the thought of sitting beside him, just the two of them, for the next thirty minutes that was doing this to her.
