Page 50 of The Secret She Kept in Bollywood

He took her mouth in a hard, demanding kiss that left her panting before he whispered, “Anya Raawal, will you marry me and put me out of my lonely misery? Will you and this baby be mine forever and ever? Will you give me a chance to make a family with you and Meera and this baby that I promise to love and cherish for the rest of my life?”

Anya looked into his steady brown eyes and said, “Yes.”

He slid the ring onto her finger, his grin wicked and bright. And then he picked her up, closed the door to her bedroom, bolted it and then threw her on the bed, gently. And then he was covering her body with his and kissing her as if he couldn’t last another second without it, and her legs fell apart to form a cradle for him and he was so hard and perfect against her core that Anya moaned into his mouth.

“Is this okay?” he asked, even though he hadn’t let all his weight fall onto her.

Anya tugged at his hair and rubbed her cheek against his rough one. “It’s perfect. And I missed you too. I missed this.”

“You said you were horny, and I take my duties as your fiancé very seriously so we’re going to find you relief and release very soon.”

Anya giggled and he kissed her again, his eyes dancing with unholy delight. He continued kissing her while one busy hand gathered the hem of her long dress and his fingers were delving into her folds and Anya arched into his touch with a greediness she knew was never going to abate. “I hate to rush you, sweetheart, but since you’re ready for me—Damn it, you aresoready for me,” he mumbled the words into her neck. “I have a feeling the entire world is going to descend on us shortly and I’d love to give us both a release before they’re all here.”

Anya’s shock turned into a raw moan when he thrust one finger into her and sensation pooled in her belly. “Who’s coming?”

“You are,” he whispered, licking at her pebbled nipple through the cotton of her dress.

Anya arched into his warm mouth before she pulled back. “I meant who’s descending on us as you very well know, you beast.”

He pushed her T-shirt out of his way, dragged his teeth over her plump, oversensitive nipple oh so gently, cursed at how her body greedily clutched his finger inside her and then he answered with a lazy grin. “Meera and your brothers and their wives and their children. And, oh, maybe your parents too.”

“Oh, God. Hurry, please,” Anya said, her climax already flickering so, so close.

Anya busied her hands with his trousers, and then he was inside her and her world felt right. Balancing his weight on his elbows, Simon thrust into her slow and deep, hitting her in exactly the right spot with such devilish intent that Anya thought she might die of the fast, rushing pleasure.

Lacing his fingers with her, Simon kissed the valley between her breasts, each swivel of his hips pushing her higher and higher. But it was his words, whispered warmly into her skin that flung Anya out of her own body. “I think I fell in love with you the first time you came for me.”

Anya opened her eyes and held his gaze as his climax followed and she didn’t stop whispering his name for a long time.

Just as Simon gathered her to him in a lazy cuddle, her phone pinged. They turned their heads together to see it was the astrology app telling her she was going to find love and she laughed and Simon laughed, and Anya thought that maybe the universe had finally gotten it right.

EPILOGUE

Eighteen months later

ANYAHADFINALLYput her infant son, Rahul, down for a nap and stepped out into the main sitting lounge in the house Simon had built for them—close to her brothers’ residences—only to find father and daughter shouting at each other.

“If either of you wakes that fussy son of mine with your argument, I swear I’m walking out the door and never returning. Then you two can fend for yourself and that cranky little guy. And the entire family that’s descending on us in exactly...two hours.”

Argument halted mid-words, Simon and Meera jerked their heads toward her, a guilty flush creeping up both their cheeks.

“Dad’s saying I can’t go to the party tonight, even though you both agreed I could like a month ago, and I promised to be back by ten.”

Anya sighed, searching for the words where she didn’t cut Simon’s authority in front of Meera but also knowing that the girl was right. It didn’t help that in the last eighteen months, Meera had lost all awkwardness and blossomed into such an achingly beautiful girl that Simon went a little berserk at the thought of the gangly teenage boys that surrounded her wherever she went.

Even now, as she stared at the teenager’s stunning beauty, Anya’s heart beat rapidly. Thank God they’d told Meera that she was her birth mother a few months after Rahul had been born.

Meera had listened to all of Anya’s recounting of the past with a mature patience that had tugged at her. Her strong, fierce daughter had cried at first, had retreated for a few hours, even from Simon. That she’d gone into her baby brother’s nursery and held him, which had made Anya cry even harder than Meera. After what had felt like an eternity and yet was only an hour, Meera had emerged brighter and braver if that was possible.

With fat tears in those wide eyes, she’d asked Anya if she’d be hurt if she didn’t call her Mama. Because she’d wanted to reserve that for the woman who had raised her.

Anya had promised faithfully she’d never try to take Rani’s place.

So they’d settled simply on Anya. Because that’s what Meera was used to.

Not for a second did Anya begrudge Rani her place in Meera’s memories or in her heart. And through it all, Simon had been there—patient, kind, loving, holding space for both Anya and Meera and then baby Rahul in his heart. Keeping every promise he’d ever made to cherish her, to cherish their family.

Of course, whatever small awkwardness Meera might have felt in her new relationship with Anya had been obliterated once she’d realized Vikram and Virat were really her uncles, that Zara and Naina were her aunts and that she had two little cousins to adore. Not that it had been completely smooth sailing.

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