AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Someone did this,” I whispered. “Someone came into my house and placed a dead hen - no, amurderedhen - on my bed.”
Because that’s what it was. Murder. Even if the victim was a bird. Someone had killed the hen to make some sort of point. To send some message. To me. Only, for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what it was.
CHAPTER4
DIGVIJAY
Tasha’s hands trembled in mine as the enormity of the situation struck her.
I wanted to draw her into my arms and hold her tight until the fear drained out of her eyes. But I’d lost that right. To be honest, she had never given me that right. We had been betrothed since the day she was born. Twenty-five years later, I could safely say that I hadn’t so much as held hands with this infuriating woman.
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t wanted to.
Initially, our betrothal was something in the background. A bit of history that still connected our families. I was eight years older than her, and I didn’t think about it much. As I got older, our families made it a point to remind me of the arrangement. Her family meant it as a warning, lest I fall in love with someone else and forget all about their princess. I guess my mother meant the exact opposite.
She found it unfair that my father had tied me to a girl who was clearly not my type. She had never liked Tasha’s mother and kept hinting that she wouldn’t be upset if I chose to call it off. Ma would never come out and say something bluntly. That wasn’t her way. She liked to hint, to suggest, to influence. In short, she never put herself in a position where she would be blamed for any outcome.
Unfortunately for her, I was my father’s son. For me, the word of a Rajput meant something. If I was promised to Tasha, I would never break that promise. Even if she grew up to be a three-eyed, six-legged beast. The joke was on me, though. Tasha did grow up to be a beast - a long-legged, beautiful, curly-haired sassy-mouthed beast with curves that would make a grown man weep. And she bewitched me body and soul.
Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t love the woman. Hell, I didn’t even like her most of the time. But I wanted her. God! I wanted her.
Every time she sassed me over something, every time she called me old or boring or stick in the mud, I wanted to pull her into my arms and put that sharp tongue to better use. I wanted to kiss her breathless and push her against a wall as I slammed into her until she screamed my name.
And yet, the thought of marrying her scared the life out of me. As explosive as my attraction to her was, life with her would be even more explosive. And not in a good way. Tasha and I brought out the worst in each other.
I was a very rational and calm man. But she turned me into a possessive, chauvinistic monster, and I didn’t like it one bit. And I knew Tasha could be kind, loyal and generous with some people. But with me, she was this irritable, irrational witch who misunderstood everything I said. On purpose.
By rights, I should have been relieved when she broke off the engagement, but I wasn’t. I was angry about it. And hurt. And still obsessed with her goddess-like body. I hadn’t made a move on her when we were engaged because we were both stuck in an unwilling relationship, and I didn’t want her to feel any sort of pressure from my side. Now I kinda wish I had.
Then, she would have been forced to marry me, and she wouldn’t be in a position where some bastard sent her a message in the form of a dead chicken.
“This is just a prank, right? A sick one, but a prank nonetheless,” she whispered, her eyes begging me to agree.
I nodded. Maybe she was right, but I didn’t want her to live in such a place. From what I’d heard, Paradiso was supposed to be a community of peace, joy and love. A sanctuary, if you believed the brochures. What kind of sick fuck played such a nasty prank on someone in a sanctuary?
“I don’t think you should live here anymore. It’s not safe,” I said gruffly.
Tasha drew her hands out of mine sharply.
“This is my home,” she exclaimed. “Where else will I live?”
I tried not to roll my eyes at that. She had only been here for three months.
“You can live wherever you like, Tasha. If you don’t want to return to Nagaur House, we’ll find you a flat on Marine Drive overlooking the sea. Or in Malabar Hill,” I argued.
She raised a challenging eyebrow and the familiar gesture brought out my inner Neanderthal, complete with a club and a resounding roar.
“You want me to swap one gilded cage for another?”
“What kind of reverse snobbery is this?”
“It’s not snobbery! I’m fighting for my freedom,” she said hotly.
“No one is taking away your freedom, Tasha. We’re just trying to keep you safe,” I said, aware of the rise in my volume.
This is what she did to me. Tasha was the only woman who provoked me into raising my voice. And all I was doing was trying to protect her. But she was too pig-headed to see that.
“I can take care of myself, thank you very much,” she snarled.
