Page 12 of Entangled Vows (Destined Diaries #2)

Mahika was completely lost in the rhythm, the music flowing through her like a rush of liberating magic.

This wild dance with a stranger… it was exactly what she needed right now.

If anyone had told her a month ago that she’d be swaying like a carefree diva in some nightclub, she would have laughed in their face, and probably thrown up her beer.

But here she was, dancing like she had no care in the world.

It was fucking reckless, yes, but it felt so damn good.

And truth be told, it wasn’t even the craziest thing in her life right now.

No, that honour went to the fact that she was about to marry Vikram, of all people.

Ugh. That annoyingly handsome, impossibly maddening, insufferable oaf of a man.

She needed to forget all about him, at least for tonight.

Tonight was about her freedom. No judgments, no expectations. Just the music, and her. And she was damn well going to enjoy it.

The guy she was dancing with, however, seemed to think it was the perfect moment to get a little too handsy.

His hand slid lower on her waist, a little too grabby for her liking, as though he was about to make a move she hadn’t invited.

If he thought she was drunk enough to let him take liberties like that, he was sorely mistaken.

She wasn’t drunk. Just pleasantly buzzed, a little lightheaded from the glass of wine she’d had earlier, but not to the point of losing control.

It had only loosened her up enough to have fun without worrying about what anyone thought.

She knew exactly when she would shove Mr. Sticky Hands away.

No way was he getting away with anything.

She wasn’t stupid, and she sure as hell wasn’t desperate for the attention of a handsy moron.

Thankfully, her brother Mohit was sitting upstairs in the VIP lounge.

Thank God, he’d offered to accompany her and promised her he’d let her have a night of reckless fun.

Honestly, it was a relief. Not that she needed rescuing.

She was no damsel in distress. But tonight, having someone looking out for her just felt. .. safe, comforting.

The guy’s grabby hands slid lower, and Mahika’s patience finally snapped.

This asshole was about to learn the hard way.

She was about to shove him off when, out of nowhere, the pressure on her waist disappeared.

Before she could even react, her body was pulled into a sudden spin.

The world tilted for a second as she was yanked against something solid.

A grip like steel wrapped around her waist, which was possessive, hot, and impossible to ignore.

And then... her front was pressed against a chest that felt as though it had been carved from stone.

A sharp breath snagged in her throat. Her eyes dipped to the space where their bodies were pressed together.

She was caught off guard by the man who had pulled her flush against him like she was a damn magnet.

For a beat, she forgot everything, too aware of the heat radiating off him, the breadth of his shoulders, and the teasing glimpse of skin revealed by the V of his shirt, where a small patch of skin was dusted with just the right amount of hair.

Damn.

The thought of running her tongue along that skin hit her with an intensity that left her breathless.

It was the sexiest thing she’d seen in..

. well, her entire life. But before she could fully process that dangerous thought, her gaze travelled up—way up—to the face attached to the suit.

She inhaled sharply, and her heartbeat stumbled over itself.

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, only to find none other than Vikram, her personal Antichrist.

Her body froze, as if every muscle in her body was staging a full-on protest. What the hell was happening to her?

Was it the damn dress she was wearing? Was that why she was feeling so.

.. hot? Or the fact that his body was pressed against hers in a way that made her want to climb him like a damn tree.

And just like that, she realised maybe, just maybe, she’d had one too many drinks to be thinking like this about her fiancé.

She stared into his intense eyes and saw his jaw clenched tight. The air between them positively crackled, like it might burst into flames at any second. She couldn’t move. Her body was caught somewhere between total shock and... oh God, was it desire?

His hand was still gripping her waist, his fingers pressing into her side, not comforting, but like he was marking his territory. Mahika tried to step back, but the moment she moved, his hold on her tightened. Damn it. She couldn’t even breathe right now.

“Really? This is how you’re spending your night, Momo?” Vikram’s voice sparked with irritation, but underneath it, something darker simmered.

Mahika turned, meeting his stormy gaze with a glare of her own. “How I spend my night is none of your business, Grizz.”

His jaw tightened, his eyes burning with what looked dangerously like possessiveness. “It becomes my business when some random asshole has his hands all over my fiancée.”

“What? Are you jealous now?”

Vikram stepped closer, his presence a wall of fire, his breath teasing the shell of her ear. Her spine went rigid, and a burst of electric sensation tingled through her.

“I’m not jealous,” he said in a low, lethal murmur. “But no one, I mean no one touches what’s mine. Got it, Momo?”

Her stomach did a full somersault at his words.

And when he dragged out that stupid nickname in that tone, it hit her like a punch wrapped in a sensual promise.

Like he was branding her with something only he had the right to use.

And that grated on her nerves because she hated that nickname.

Or at least, she used to. Sure, she loved momos…

but hearing it now… ugh. Or maybe not so ugh anymore.

Crap. She wasn’t sure.

She rolled her eyes, secretly thrilled. And instantly wanted to smack herself for it.

“I don’t belong to anyone.”

“You sure as fuck belong to me from the moment you signed those documents. Or did you forget, sweetheart?”

She shrugged off the unwanted thrill his words evoked. Holy shit! She needed therapy.

“Stop acting like a caveman. I am not your possession,” Mahika hissed.

“You’re right,” he said, his voice dangerously soft.

“You’re not a possession; you’re a treasure.

One I intend to protect. And nothing is going to change that.

Not your attitude, not your defiance, and definitely not your stubbornness.

” His fingers skimmed along her jaw, tilting her chin just enough to make her fully meet his gaze.

Her pulse hammered against her ribs, her mind screaming at her to push him away, to throw some snarky comeback in his face… but her body? Her traitorous body leaned into him just a little. “Just because we’re bound by this forced marriage doesn’t mean you can control me.”

“It’s not control you’re afraid of. It’s the way you fight so hard to deny what you are feeling from within. Trust me, honey, you’ll stop running when you’re ready. Not because I told you to, but because you want to.” He smirked, and God, she wanted to slap his gorgeous face.

“I’ve never seen anyone as arrogant and delusional,” Mahika retorted, leaning back a little just to put some space between them. “Goodness, to think you’re Suraj’s brother. You’re nothing like him.”

The moment the words left her mouth, she knew she’d made a mistake.

Vikram stiffened, and she realised she’d touched a nerve.

A dangerous look flickered in his eyes as his expression turned dark.

He stepped forward, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low and controlled, yet carried an almost feral undertone.

“You’re right. Suraj and I are nothing alike. He ran away the moment things got tough, leaving a trail of destruction behind him. Running’s not my thing. I face things head-on.”

He moved impossibly close, making her pulse stutter. His eyes were cold with barely contained anger. He didn’t need to raise his voice. His presence alone made her tremble. She drew in a slow, steady breath, masking her anxiety with a calm she didn’t feel.

“Congratulations. Want a medal or standing ovation for badmouthing my best friend?”

“I don’t sugarcoat things. If that makes me the villain, go ahead. Call me a prick. Just don’t expect me to pretend Suraj didn’t walk away from everything like a fucking coward.” His gaze stayed locked on hers, unflinching, daring her to challenge him.

“Your shitty attitude is doing nothing to win me over.”

He let out a low chuckle. “I’m not trying to win you over. That would imply I’m chasing you. And I don’t chase. I wait. Whether you admit it or not, you are already on your way to me.”

She glared, her knuckles turning white as she clenched her fists. “Yeah, right. In your dreams.”

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze dropping to her lips. “Says the woman who looks two seconds away from hate-kissing me on a crowded dance floor.”

“Puh-lease,” she snapped, but her voice lacked its usual edge. “Hate-kissing implies some level of desire. I’m still stuck at indifference.”

Vikram moved closer, so close that her chest grazed his muscled torso, his imposing presence eliminating the last inch of space between them.

“If this is indifference, Momo,” he murmured, his eyes locked on hers, “then I’m dying to see what happens when you want me.”

She didn’t back down. Didn’t move. As he leaned in, his breath ghosted over her lips, and still, she made no effort to stop him.

The air sizzled with a powerful attraction as their noses brushed.

Their lips were close, but not quite touching.

Her hands curled at her sides, nails digging into her palms.

“I hate you,” she breathed, the words searing her tongue even as her lips parted with something more than anger.

Vikram’s voice was like dark silk. “No, you don’t. You just hate how much you want to give in.”

And the worst part was that he was right. Because deep down, she wanted to… just a little. Just enough.

Each of his carefully chosen words held a hushed confidence, making her shiver. His gaze lingered on her lips, and in that charged heartbeat, she realised one thing. He wanted to kiss her too. Maybe even erase the space between them and swallow his own words with a kiss that would undo them both.

The thought shocked her, and her heart pounded in her chest.

What the hell was happening?

Before she could understand her inner turmoil, he pulled back abruptly, turned around and walked away.

Mahika stood frozen, her breath coming in shaky gasps, her heart still hammering in the silence he left behind. The words between them hung heavy in the air, more potent than anything she’d said or felt in a long time.

Fuck. She needed time, space, and maybe a one-way trip around the world to escape the infuriatingly attractive devil who had gotten under her skin like no one else.