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Vikram had always had a magnetic presence on screen, and his portrayal of his grandfather had been truly sensational. But she...she had shone. Virat had been absolutely right—it was her chance to steal the scene from her leading man and she had done it. In just a matter of a few weeks, she felt as if she had learned a lifetime’s worth of skills under Virat’s direction.
The man was truly a genius behind the camera at what he could wring out of the actors on the screen. And in real life, he was a man who’d built an island around himself. A man who used the camera as a shield between himself and the world.
Picking up a glass of sparkling water from a passing waiter, she drank it in one go, hoping it would settle her stomach. It was more than three hours now and all she wanted was to take Virat’s hand and disappear.
As if summoned, he was there on the next blink. She felt him at her back, the warmth of his wiry body beckoning her closer. The hair on the nape of her neck prickled with awareness.
“You fainted as soon as I left? Did you miss me that much,shahzadi?” His words were a raspy whisper against the rim of her ear.
Zara knew he was teasing her and yet the truth of that thought struck her still.
She felt him lean down. His fingers landed gently on her shoulders and squeezed, even as a photographer captured them from the other side. Neither did she miss the curious glances, from family members and friends to the press and other media moguls.
Zara gritted her teeth against the self-indulgent anger that rose through her. She was beginning to hate the very charade she’d started. She wanted his raw intensity, the real man, and not this polite, attentive lover he played in front of the world.
When he’d have retreated, Zara kept her hand clasped around his neck.
“More posturing,shahzadi? If I’m to hold you and kiss you and touch you for public consumption, then I’m going to demand the same in private,” he whispered, bending down to rub his unshaven cheek against hers.
She looked into his eyes, the naked want in his tone finding an echo in her. “Don’t mock this. Whatever you might think of the past, if you mock what I feel for you...”
He raised his hands, palms up. “No mockery, Zara. The entire world be damned, I refuse to continue this charade in public and then go to my bed alone. I want you,shahzadi.I can’t sleep without you by my side. I admit that I want to see where this will take us.”
Excitement thumped so hard in her chest that it filled her ears. She desperately wanted to take what he was offering. Especially now. If she weren’t pregnant, if she were free to take risk after risk...
“Are you going to practice forgiveness afresh every morning then?” Zara couldn’t help taunting back.
Deep grooves formed around his mouth as he considered her. “I’ve never said I was perfect, Zara. But I’m trying to let things be.”
Zara shook her head, wondering why she was pushing this again. When there were bigger, life-changing matters waiting ahead for them to discuss. “I’ve already done the whole vicious cycle of having a man heap abuse on me the previous night and then pledge a fresh start the next morning, in my last marriage. For three long years. By the end of it, I was completely twisted up, inside out. I lost myself.”
Stillness enveloped him, and when he spoke, shock pervaded his every word. “Really, Zara, now? You choose to tell me this now?”
Zara regretted the words instantly. It was as if there was no filter left anymore within her. “That was a cheap shot.” She held onto him when he’d have stepped back. “I’m sorry. It was unfair to compare you to...him. I... I don’t want to do this, Virat. I don’t want this to be our default setting.”
His forearm came around her back and he held her so gently that for the first time in years, Zara thought she might break. “No, Zara. Don’t apologize.”
A sudden shiver took over her body. “I don’t want this poison to fester, Virat. Not between you and me. I can’t stand the thought of that. Whatever the future holds, I don’t want us to part like this.”
“Shh...shahzadi. Shh... Nothing like that is going to happen to us. I’ve got you, Zara. I’m...so—”
The last thing Zara wanted from him was an apology. Not like this. Never like this.
Throwing every warning to the wind, she snuck her fingers into his hair and pulled him down until his mouth met hers. She was hungry for him, for his warmth, for his kiss, for the strength of his arms around her. She felt his shock for maybe a second.
Then he took the kiss over, and every muscle in Zara’s body sighed in shuddering relief. It felt like coming home after years and years of being away.
He explored her mouth with a wondrous gentleness that brought tears to her eyes. This was no rough possession. This felt like escape and invitation, all blended together into a soft storm. Like a new beginning between them, washing away the pain of the past.
This felt like retreating into a world in which only they both existed. He kissed her as if he had been waiting for her to make the move again. Even as she drowned in the warm cavern of his mouth, Zara couldn’t help but demand more. Want more.
“I’m not going to apologize for doing that,” she whispered against his cheek, keeping her fingers in his hair. “Nor am I going to pretend that it was for someone else’s benefit.”
He raised a brow, challenge glinting in his eyes. “No?”
“No. I needed that kiss.”
He laughed, sending vibrations into her mouth and the rest of her body. She tightened her fingers in his hair, punishing him for the taunt. Desperate for the anchoring of his taste, she clung to him, her breaths suddenly shallow.
