Page 67 of Mrs. Rathore

I didn’t know how much Grandma had spent on this place, but it must’ve been a lot. And for what? For nothing. Because Aryan and I… we weren’t going to be a real couple.

At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

Aryan loved Ira. I was just… here. And as much as I disliked him, I couldn’t imagine sharing a bed, let alone a night, with a man I didn’t love.

Thankfully, Aryan was somewhere else in the hotel, taking a call.

I splashed my face with cold water and returned to the bedroom. It had only been an hour since we arrived, and already, my phone was buzzing with messages.

Noor, ever the gentle soul, had asked if I was comfortable sharing a room with Aryan. I told her yes, and that was enough for her.

Kavya, on the other hand, had sent me a link on how to have sex for the first time. I groaned; she seriously needed help. A few seconds later, more messages popped up with images of different sex positions. I swear, that girl deserved a couple of good punches.

Rhea had messaged me about my social media presence. She suggested I make a blog post about the palace and upload it to my Instagram to boost my following. She also warned me not to post anything with Aryan in it since her brother absolutely hated social media and didn’t have any accounts besides WhatsApp.

I sighed and tossed my phone aside.

All I wanted now was sleep. I crawled into the massive bed and pressed my head against the soft pillow, inhaling its warm, fresh scent. For a moment, I really felt like a queen. I had never been in a place like this and had never imagined I would.

Aryan would probably be gone for a few more hours. I closed my eyes, letting myself drift off to sleep.

Just as I was about to fall asleep, I heard footsteps.

Shit. I didn’t want to face him again. The drive here had been torturous—an hour and a half of uncomfortable silence and simmering tension. And now, this infuriatingly handsome monster was hovering over me once more.

My breath caught when the mattress dipped. He sat on the other side of the bed. Was he planning to sleep next to me?

No. Please, no.

There was only one bed in the room. Of course, there was no spare couch and no extra mattress. Just this one grand bed we were meant to share.

I swallowed hard as his scent reached me: rich, clean, and maddeningly intoxicating. Why did he have to smell so good? It was so unfairly sexy.

I jumped when I felt his hand slide under my waist.

“What are you doing?” I hissed, glaring at him.

“Our honeymoon night?” he replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His dark eyes locked onto mine, strands of hair falling across his forehead, the light catching on the stubble along his sharp jawline. He looked like he had walked straight out of a Vogue spread.

Focus, Avni. Just give him a piece of your mind.

“Are you out of your mind?” I snapped through clenched teeth.

“Did it take you this long to notice?” he replied dryly. “I’ve been out of my mind since the day I agreed to marry you.”

“Look, we’re not here for… for that.” I glanced down, my cheeks burning as he stared at me with dark intensity. “This isn’t going to happen.”

His eyes didn’t waver. “Isn’t this what a husband and wife should do on their honeymoon?” he asked, leaning in closer. His warm breath brushed over my cheek and neck, igniting a slow, reluctant heat deep in my belly. My body, traitorous and confused, responded to his nearness, to the gravel in his voice, the storm in his stare.

For a moment, I remained frozen in place, absorbing his heat and hating how much I felt it.

I should have backed away.

I didn’t.

I drew a shallow breath, praying he couldn’t hear my racing heart.

He moved even closer until our noses nearly touched.