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She heard his laughter deep inside. “Can’t let my new wife crawl on the floor.”
Sanjana did not miss the mischief in his eyes. “Not in this beautiful heirloom outfit.” She slowly and hesitantly turned to stand in front of him. The back of her blouse was in place by knotting what seemed like a million strings together. “There is no way I can get all these knots out.”
She took a deep breath and braced herself for his touch. There is no way he was going to relieve her of her fitted blouse without his fingertips grazing over her skin. She held her breath, bracing for the chaos that would come the moment he touched her.
You just need to get used to him being so close to you. That’s it.
Lost in thought, she hadn’t realized he had left the bathroom when she heard him approach her. “Stay still, and I’ll get you out of this outfit.”
She let out a sigh, her palms gently pressed on her chest, preparing her mind and body to stay calm when he was so close. Hopefully, things would settle down in a few days, and she wouldn’t feel so jumpy around him. “Just be careful with the—”
Her voice was lost when she felt the ice-cold metal against her skin, followed by the sound of fabric being sliced. The next moment, her blouse was falling open in front, and she was glad she had her hands on her chest to hold it in place. “There you go, that should feel better, and the skirt…”
She took a step away from him, turning to face him. Her eyes widened when she saw him hold a sword in his hand. He had used the ceremonial family heirloom he carried at the wedding to rip open her blouse. “Wait! Don’t ruin the skirt. I can take it off myself.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, and she nodded vigorously. He chuckled as he slipped the dagger back into its case. “There was some benefit to carrying this around, I guess.”
“Yes.” She let out a sheepish laugh as she walked backward toward the bathroom, not wanting to show her bare back to him. “I’ll go and… I need to shower.” She rushed away from him, feeling super conscious about being in the room when her outfit was compromised.
He shrugged. “Okay, enjoy your shower. I’ll have some food brought to the suite.” The unreadable expression in his eyes messed with her head, and she looked away.
At the mention of food, she realized she hadn’t eaten much all day. Her stomach rumbled as if it remembered the delicacies that were served that day for every meal, which, unfortunately, Sanjana had no appetite for. Not when a million questions plagued her every thought.
She made sure the sliding door to the bathroom was locked before she slowly slid the heavy blouse off and hung it on the side. With her chest completely bare, she felt insecure so she slipped on the plain t-shirt that was set aside as she slowly took off the jewelry and placed it in the trays that were set out with labels on them. She was sure her mother had someone tasked to set it all up.
She let her long hair loose and out of her tight hairdo and shook her head. Now the last thing to take off before stepping under the warm water was the heavy skirt. There was no way she, alone, could carry the heavily adorned skirt. She had three people help her put it on and at least two held the skirt’s hem as she walked to the wedding pavilion.
Her only option was to climb out of the skirt as it stood around her like a fort made of silk and millions of embellishments. She formulated her plan and moved close to the vanity in hopes of pulling herself out of the puddle of her skirt once she got it undone at the waist.
She let out a sign of relief when the knot at the waist easily came undone, and she pushed the band below her hips as a way to get out of the skirt. One last thing she had to do was kick off the floor with her feet and pull herself out of the skirt she could not lift to get out from under it.
After moments of her staring at herself in the mirror, contemplating her next move, she was left with no other option but to ask her husband to lift her out of the skirt. He had done that once before, and she knew he could do it one more time, but the problem was, she had nothing but her panties on under the heavy skirt.
“Why, Sanjana, why?” She shook her head at the image in front of her. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and, in this case, it required her husband. Maybe he could get someone from the team to help her if he cannot. “Jai,” she called out only to realize she had locked the bathroom door, and she had no energy left to even drag the skirt to the door.
Maybe she could slip through the waistband and sleep under the skirt that night as it was tented in the middle of the bathroom? Someone would get to her in the morning.
Moments later, she heard him and saw him through the frosted glass panel on the door. “Sanjana, are you okay?”
She let out a sigh. “I’m stuck in my skirt and can’t get out. Can you get my mother or someone to help me, please?”
“It’s too late for anyone to come up here now. They all must be tired and resting. Open the door, and let me help.” His consideration for other people and the conflict of wanting help badly made her want to cry.
“I can’t move another inch,” she said, suppressing a sob. Moments of silence later, she heard something click, and to her amazement, the door opened, and Jai stepped in with the dagger in his hand. She looked at the knife in horror. “Please don’t cut the skirt,” she almost yelled.
He laughed as he placed it on the vanity in front of her. “Relax, I used it to open the door.” He stepped back to look at the dress tented around her, the apex at her waist. “What would you like me to do?”
She looked up as she leaned on the marble counter, her hands firmly placed on the vanity for support. “You need to lift this dress over my head or…” Like he knew there was no way she could even stand straight while he lifted the dress over her head, he wrapped one arm around her and hauled her over his shoulder.
Her body froze for a moment before becoming aware of him—his touch and the way he held and carried her toward the bed. Her legs were bare to him, but that didn’t matter to her as she was focused on how her body went into overdrive at his proximity.
If the marriage weren’t fake, everything about the dress and the setting that night was to make the couple consummate the marriage. He slowly put her down, her back to the mattress as he pulled the sheets over her legs. “You probably don’t even have the energy to stand in the shower. I say you get some rest.”
With those famous words, he turned off the lamp on her side and left, leaving her quivering inside. Every inch of her wanted to pull him to her and let him conquer every one of her desires that surfaced out of nowhere.
How the heck was she supposed to keep her hands to herself and not want to do things to that hot husband of hers?
Chapter 5
