Page 112 of The Defiant Wife

"But if anyone asks me complicated questions about agriculture, politics, or zoning laws . . . "I narrow my eyes dramatically." . . . I'm telling the entire press that you willingly drink tea with three tablespoons of salt."

He laughs. A full, rich laugh that fills the quiet bedroom.

Before I know it, he's pulling me close again.

I let myself settle comfortably against him, hiding my burning face in his chest.

Tomorrow I'll step into his world beside him. And for the first time . . . That thought doesn't scare me.

It simply feels right.

42. CAN I?

VEERAJ

The heritage pavilion is filled with polished white marble, grand arches, and endless conversations that echo through the hall.

State charity galas have never been my favorite. Every handshake feels planned. Every smile is watched by the press standing behind the velvet ropes. I have spent years treating events like this as another royal responsibility.

Tonight feels different.Because Diya is beside me.

A thought crosses my mind, and I almost laugh at myself.If attending these boring events means I get to see her like this, maybe they aren't so bad after all.

She looks breathtaking.

Instead of her usual kurtis, she's wearing a deep crimson satin jumpsuit that fits her perfectly before falling gracefully to the floor. The rich color makes the pale patches of vitiligo on her hands and neck stand out beautifully. Her hair is pinned into a soft updo, leaving her face completely visible.

She walks through the crowd with her chin held high.People look at her.She notices.She simply doesn't care.And somehow, that makes me admire her even more.

When we finally step away from the crowd and into the quieter side gallery, I move a little closer.

The noise of the party fades behind us.I lean down slightly. "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight, my wife?" I murmur near her ear.

She freezes.

Then she slowly looks up at me with wide eyes."Veeraj!" she whispers, completely flustered. "What are you doing?"Her gaze darts toward the crowd."There are reporters everywhere."

"So?" A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

I take one small step closer until she's standing against one of the marble pillars.

"Since when is flirting with my own wife a crime, Trouble?"

She opens her mouth to answer. Nothing comes out.

I had only meant to tease her. I wanted to watch her argue with me. To hear one of her dramatic speeches.

Instead . . . The moment I really look at her, everything changes.

The sounds of the gala disappear.My eyes fall to her lips before finding hers again. She's already looking back at me.Something inside me quietly gives in.I don't want to hide behind jokes anymore.

I don't want to pretend this is still just an arrangement.

I want her.

I slowly lift one hand and rest it against the pillar beside her, leaving enough space for her to move away if she wants to.

She doesn't."Diya . . . " My voice comes out softer than I expect.