Page 42 of Entangled Vows (Destined Diaries #2)
She was done with the polite laughter and the practiced performance of being the perfect hostess.
All she wanted was to kick off the heels stabbing her feet, peel out of the dress that was hugging her too tightly, and try not to glance at Vikram…
because every time she did, her body responded in ways that were becoming embarrassingly hard to ignore.
The slick, persistent ache between her thighs had been building ever since that kiss. That scorching, claiming kiss that had set off a chain reaction in her entire nervous system. Now, even standing still felt impossible, and every brush of his gaze across her skin felt like an intimate caress.
Her heart still hadn’t settled when Vikram leaned in, his voice soft against the shell of her ear. “It’s past one. We’re leaving.”
She blinked up at him. “Now?”
“Yes.” His tone was clipped and resolute. “We’ve done enough tonight. I don’t care if the last few guests are still hanging around.”
“But people will notice—”
“Let them.” He reached for her hand gently and tugged her out of the spotlight. “We said our thank-yous and posed for a hundred photos. Moreover, most people have already left. The ones who are still here are just for the after-party vibes. I think we’ve earned our escape.”
She nodded and walked alongside him. As they neared the edge of the ballroom, Vikram tipped his chin towards Mohit and Gaurav, still lingering by the bar.
The moment they reached the bar, Vikram didn’t waste any time.
“We’re done for the evening. Mahika is tired,” he stated, his voice calm yet holding a quiet authority.
She blinked, a mix of surprise and amusement crossing her face as he spoke for her.
A knowing smirk curved Mohit’s lips as he raised his glass. “You do know the word ‘please’ still exists, right?” he teased, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Vikram didn’t even bat an eye. “Please, Brother. Can you wrap things up here?”
Mahika nearly laughed when Mohit choked on his drink. “Wait, did you just say please? I never thought I’d live to hear that. And you’re going to miss your own after-party? Who are you, and what have you done with Vikram Khurana?”
Vikram rolled his eyes, muttering ‘dramatic asshole’ under his breath before turning to Gaurav. “I’m off the grid starting now. For a week. Just like we discussed.”
Mahika glanced at him from the corner of her eye. A week? With him? Off the grid? Well, this sounded both dangerous and exciting. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.
Gaurav nodded promptly. “Got it. I’ve cleared your schedule, and I’ll make sure there are no interruptions.”
Vikram reached for Mahika’s hand, and they quietly went out to the car.
Mahika managed a tight, polite smile before Vikram’s warm hand pressed firmly against the small of her back, guiding her out.
His touch had become familiar. It felt commanding and possessive, and she was craving it far more than she admitted.
Stepping outside, the frigid night air hit her like an electric jolt.
Max was already there, holding the car door open for them.
As they sat inside, the silence grew between them, taut with unspoken tension.
It was electric, thick with things they had never voiced, and heavy with truths they were not sure they were ready to admit.
Mahika stared out the window, the dazzling city lights blurring into streaks of gold and crimson. She could feel Vikram’s intense gaze burning into her skin. It wasn’t just a look; it was a slow, gentle caress, melting away her shyness, layer by layer.
When the car pulled into the estate, Vikram stepped out first and walked around to her side.
He opened the door and extended a rough, calloused hand.
Mahika hesitated for a heartbeat, her fingertips barely brushing his, before finally placing her hand in his.
His grip was firm and confident, making her shiver with a strange mix of fear and excitement.
The warmth of his palm grounded her, branding her with a gentle heat.
Mahika looked up at him, unsure if the rush in her veins came from the crisp night air or the intriguing man before her. As always, his face was an impassive mask, but his thumb traced the faintest of patterns on her knuckles, as if committing her to memory.
“Come,” he said, in a low, confident voice. It wasn’t a request. It never was with him.
She followed him, her heels clicking quietly on the stone path as they walked into the house. With every step, her awareness of him intensified. By the time they reached the main door, her breath was shallow, and she wasn’t sure if it was anticipation or warning that coiled in her stomach.
Inside the house, a thick and charged silence greeted them, pressing in from all sides. They climbed the stairs, his hand holding hers with a firm grip. There was urgency in his touch, urgency in his steps, like the restraint between them had finally snapped.
Vikram turned the knob and pushed the bedroom door open. Warm golden light spilled from the bedside lamps, casting slow-moving shadows along the walls.
Mahika stepped in, her pulse drumming a little too loud, her senses already heightened. The door shut with a click behind them.
She turned around, and there he was… watching her, his eyes boring into her very soul, seeing past every carefully constructed facade. The sexual tension between them made her breath catch. Everything they had been dancing around crashed into silence as their eyes locked.
Neither of them needed words. They both knew exactly where this was going. And neither of them was planning to stop it.