Page 31 of Protect my Heart
Standing there, looking unfairly handsome under the dim corridor light, is Aarav.
His gaze locks onto mine, intense and unreadable. For a moment, neither of us says anything. The silence between us crackles like fire. My heartbeat stumbles.
What is he even doing here at this time? “May I come in?” he asks, his voice low and deep, sending an unexpected shiver down my spine.
I cross my arms, instantly defensive. “No, you may not. What do you want?” I snap, narrowing my eyes at him.
His gaze doesn’t waver. In fact, it softens—dangerously so. His expression does things to my heart that I don’t want to think about.
“I can talk from here then,” he says casually, like it’s no big deal.
I study him for a second. He looks... exhausted. His usual sharpness dulled by sleepless nights. He stayed at the hospital almost every night, even when I told him not to. Then he went straight to work after. God, he must be dead on his feet.
“What are you here for, Aarav?” I ask again, my voice a little gentler this time.
“Of course, to check on Aunty. How is she?” My heart melts just a little. But I shove the feeling down quickly. I’m not about to let his concern cloud my judgment.
“She’s fine. She’s asleep. You can go now,” I inform, coolly, and cross my arms.
He doesn’t move. Instead, he steps closer, and his fingers graze my cheekbone, making me jump. His touch is ice-cold against my skin. I suck in a breath, eyes wide.
“My wife,” he murmurs, looking at me as if he can’t believe I exist.
I snap out of my stupor, shoving him away. “What’s wrong with you? Stay away from me!” I hiss, mortified at how much I liked that simple touch.
He chuckles, low and warm. “Just having a little fun with my wife. Nothing wrong with that.” He smirks.
I glare at him, cheeks burning. “Well, for your information, dear husband, this marriage is only for six months.And if you think for a second that I’ll let you touch me again, you’re delusional. So. Stay away.”
His smirk falters. His eyes darken, just a little, and for a second I wonder if I went too far. He steps closer, and now there’s barely an inch between us, but I stand my ground. I’m not backing down.
“And don’t worry,” I add, poking his chest for emphasis. “I will pay back everything. Every single rupee.”
He raises an eyebrow, amused. “Oh yeah? With interest, right?” He questions, leaning in so close I can feel his breath against my ear.
I shudder when his fingers trail lightly across the back of my neck. I hate how my skin tingles in response.
“You think you can pay me back twenty lakhs... with interest?” he murmurs, straightening up with a lazy grin. Of course, arrogance is a part of his personality charm.
“You and your shop of ego.” He murmurs with a small smirk.
My neck heats up where he touched me. What is wrong with me?
“Oh please,” I scoff, crossing my arms. “Like you need more money. You’re practically drowning in it! Don’t worry, I’ll pay you back even if I have to sell my kidney on the black market.” I shoot him a look. “And calling me ‘shop of ego’? Look in the mirror sometimes. Your ego is the size of the Himalayas.”
He laughs—actually laughs—and I have to resist the urge to throw something at him. What the hell is so funny? I just insulted him!
But then, his face sobers, and he says quietly, “You’ll never harm yourself over stupid twenty lakhs, Anika. I swear. I can wipe the debt clean right now—you just have to say the word. It’s nothing to me.”
My heart clenches, but I square my shoulders stubbornly. “I don’t need your kindness,” I snap.
God, I’m stupid. But I can’t help it. My pride’s louder than my common sense sometimes. He watches me, something unreadable in his eyes.
“Very well,” he says finally. “I have a proposal for you.”
I narrow my eyes. “A proposal? What kind of proposal?”
He smirks again—that infuriating, dangerous smirk—and I swear, my fists itch to wipe it off his face. “How about this?” he proposes casually. “You do as I say for one week. And in return... I’ll forget about the debt.”