Page 6

A man. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Shirtless.

Nandini blinked, her brain short-circuiting for a moment.

The gruff sounds that had caught her attention belonged to none other than her grandfather’s arch-nemesis—the infamous new owner of Villa No. 11.

And he was currently on the back patio, doing push-ups.Effortless, powerful push-ups.Who even works out this intensely in the late afternoon?

Show-off. Huh!

She muttered it under her breath, but her feet refused to move. Because, truth be told, the sight was hard to ignore.

Sweat gleamed on his sculpted back despite the cold weather, highlighting every ridge of muscle. Each push-up exuded raw strength. His dark, tousled hair clung slightly to his forehead, and his breathing—deep and steady—was the only sound apart from the occasional rustle of leaves.

This had to be him. The man her grandfather had ranted about in every single phone call for the last six months.

“That man is impossible, Nandu!”

“Every day, he complains about the leaves falling in his fancy pool, as if nature is personally offending him!”

“A little dirt won’t kill him! If anything, he looks like he could use a little softening up!”

Daadu clearly hadn’t seen him shirtless. Because nothing about this man looked like it needed softening up. Her gaze drifted, completely by accident, to his arms. Veined, strong enough to lift, carry and ruin a woman all at once.

Sweet. Lord. His arms.

The kind of arms that looked like they could pin a woman against the wall and make her forget how to breathe. Her mouth went dry as her gaze trailed lower, lingering on the way his joggers hung low on his hips. And then—

Oh.

A peek of black boxers peeked out from the waistband.

Damn it.

She tore her eyes away, forcing herself to look anywhere but there. But just then, as if sensing her gaze, he stopped. He justfroze mid push-up like some kind of superhero who had just detected a threat.

Her stomach flipped as he turned his head, locking eyes with her.

A shiver ran down her spine. His gaze wasn’t just dark. It held something deeper, something dangerous.

Nandini’s heart started racing like she was eight years old again, caught stealing extra mangoes from the tree.

But she wasn’t eight. She was twenty-five. And this was definitely not a childish game of hide and seek.

His expression shifted. His brows furrowed, his jaw tensed and irritation flickered across his face, like he had caught her red-handed.

“Excuse me?” His voice was sharp. “Who are you... and what are you even doing here?”

Panic shot through her.Oh God, he thinks I was staring.

Which, technically… she was.

Abort mission. Abort. Now.

With zero dignity, Nandini spun around so fast she nearly tripped over her own feet and bolted inside her villa like a startled squirrel. Once inside, she slammed the door shut and leaned against it, clutching her wildly thudding heart.

What. The. Hell. Was. That.

She had expected a quiet, peaceful break in Serene Meadows. A chance to clear her head, reset her life, maybe drink some chai under the mango tree like old times. Not… this.