Page 30 of Entangled Vows (Destined Diaries #2)
Vikram woke up to a bright beam of sunlight piercing through the curtains, scorching his eyelids with its intensity.
He stirred, his eyes scanning the surroundings.
The sound of running water reached him from the bathroom.
His jaw clenched as he sank back against the pillows and closed his eyes to stop his brain from conjuring up images he had no business entertaining.
Fuck, he didn’t need to think about Mahika inside.
His wife. The thought alone was enough to undo him.
The image of her naked under the spray, water cascading down her soft curves, her bare skin slick and glistening, slammed into him like a blow.
His body betrayed him instantly, and he was rock hard and aching… for her.
With a muttered curse, he sprang out of bed, grabbed his workout clothes, and all but stormed out of the room.
He made a beeline for the guest bathroom, where he wasted no time in putting on his running gear and immediately took off.
It was either that, or march into their bathroom, haul her close, and lose all sense of reason.
Forty-five minutes later, after finishing his run, he slowed down as he approached the familiar gate of his home.
The air was crisp, his breathing even, yet the restlessness inside him refused to fade.
The run had left him feeling wired, not relieved, and by the time he stepped into his bedroom, tension still thrummed through him.
Thank God Mahika wasn’t there. He had no idea what he would have done if he’d seen her with beads of water clinging to her skin, and the scent of her shampoo still lingering in the air, looking as fresh as a daisy. The thought alone made his pulse spike.
He hurried to the bathroom, stripped off his clothes, and stood beneath the shower, allowing the hot water to rein in his racing thoughts.
After fifteen minutes, he was ready and dressed in his signature style.
A navy Tom Ford bespoke suit moulded perfectly to his frame, layered over a crisp white shirt from Brioni.
Platinum cufflinks glinted at his wrists, hinting at his powerful aura.
A maroon silk tie completed the look, adding a touch of understated elegance.
With his hair neatly combed back and his Rolex flashing money and power, he looked like he’d stepped straight off the cover of Esquire, every bit the polished and commanding CEO.
With his laptop bag in hand, he made his way to the kitchen for his daily smoothie.
He had a long day ahead of him, and all he wanted was to escape before Mahika came and made things difficult.
His routine was his shield: a run, a smoothie, a shower, then work.
Everything ran on discipline, predictability, and control.
That was the only way to stay on top, in both personal and professional life.
But today, as he neared the open kitchen by the sunroom, something smelled off.
Not literally, but metaphorically off, like trouble was waiting for him.
He slowed as he heard the familiar hum of the blender buzzing low in the background.
He walked in and stopped dead in his tracks.
Mahika stood behind the counter, making a smoothie, totally in her element, like she belonged there.
Even in an apron, she looked incredibly sexy, and he was certain she was wearing her work clothes underneath.
Her jacket lay draped on the chair next to the breakfast table, and he realised right then that he had a thing for women in corporate attire.
Her sleek ponytail tempted him, making him want to wrap it around his fingers and tug her closer.
A few strands of hair brushing her pink cheeks only intensified her temptress look.
“Good morning,” she chirped, turning around as if she hadn’t just destroyed every ounce of peace Vikram had earned after his run.
She held a tall glass flask filled with his usual swampy-green morning smoothie. “Here’s your smoothie.”
He stared at her, then at the flask. He couldn’t believe it. She’d made him his smoothie? Why? Didn’t she hate that thing? And why was she grinning like a Cheshire cat?
He thought she would probably be angry at him for making her sleep on the bed. But she looked fine… as if everything was perfect in her world. That wasn’t the Mahika he knew. Something was definitely off.
“You made this?” he asked, taking the flask, his gaze fixed on her.
She nodded way too fast. “Yes.”
“You don’t have to,” he said, sounding cool and polite. “You can just relax and feel at home. Sandhya Ma and the others can take care of the chores.”
“I know,” she replied sweetly. “But it’s an age-old tradition. The bride should make something sweet on her first day in the house. Since you don’t eat sweets,” she added, tilting her head innocently, “I figured I’d make something healthy. Something you like.”
He cocked an eyebrow, impressed despite himself. “Well, look at you, all domesticated.”
She grinned. “Don’t get used to it. Have a sip, please.”
“I need to get to work early and make some calls. I’ll drink it on the go,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he turned away.
Something was fishy. And he didn’t smell just one fish; he smelled an entire damn seafood market here.
She gave a light shrug. “Oh, no problem. We’re going to the same place anyway, so let’s just go together. It’s probably expected, considering we’re married.”
He bit back a groan. Of course, it was.
“Sure thing. Let’s go,” he muttered.
Mahika untied her apron with an exaggerated flourish and tossed her handbag over her shoulder.
Tearing his gaze away from her slender frame, Vikram wordlessly picked up his laptop bag and grabbed the car keys from the bowl as they walked out together, the silence oddly civil… but thick with unspoken tension.