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Rebel Hard (Hard Play #2)

Page 29

by Nalini Singh


  Tears rolled down Komal’s cheeks. “I loved you so much. And for your information, I never cheated. Not even when handsome, rich men hit on me while my husband wasn’t around.”

  Navin swallowed. “I didn’t either. I just… I wanted you to be jealous, so I pretended.”

  Nayna’s fingers squeezed Raj’s. When he angled his head down toward her, she whispered, “Masala picture, complete with dramatic reconciliation. Aditi is going to be so mad she missed this.”

  Raj would always be angry at Komal on some level. That type of breach of trust wasn’t forgivable in his book. But when his brother got up and took her into his arms, he silently wished them luck. “Drama’s fine for the movies, but loving you every day works better for me.”

  Nayna’s eyes welled up. Pretending to punch him on the arm, she said, “Ditto.”

  “I think we need some privacy.” That was Navin, about to lead Komal out of the room.

  “Wait.” Raj’s mother stood up again. “First, I wish you both all the luck in mending your marriage. I’ve only ever wanted happiness for you.”

  Both nodded.

  “But something else needs to be said,” Raj’s mother continued. “I was too angry before to do it. I’ve calmed down, but I still cannot believe our daughter-in-law would disrespect us by going to my in-laws after we specifically made our feelings on the matter clear.” Her voice was cool, calm. “Is this what your parents taught you, Komal? To talk behind your elders’ backs?”

  Eyes swollen, Komal shifted restlessly. “I’m sorry. I was angry and sad and I struck out.” She swallowed hard. “I won’t ever do it again.”

  “No, you won’t,” Sangeeta Sen said, a tone in her voice that had Raj paying intense attention. “I wish I could trust you to keep your word, but just as Navin has to win back the faith of his family, that’s a trust you’ll have to earn. Until then, I’ll just say one word: Taveuni.”

  Komal went sheet-white under the brown of her skin, swaying on her feet. Navin grabbed her before she fainted, held her upright.

  In the silence that followed, Raj’s father scratched at his head and said, “Isn’t that the island off the coast of Vanua Levu?”

  No one answered.

  When Komal could speak again, she blurted out a string of words. “I won’t say anything else and I’ll tell my friend who saw Madhuri not to say a word either.” She was all but hyperventilating.

  “Just in case you have another spike of meanness and temper,” Raj’s mother said, “you should know that I’ll be sharing what I know with Nayna in the next few minutes—and I’m going to tell Raj too. Remember that the next time you want to make trouble for them.”

  Then she turned toward him and Nayna and, voice as scarily calm as it had been through the entire exchange, said, “Come on, I have to tell you Komal’s secret.”

  A whimper of sound from Raj’s sister-in-law.

  49

  We Told You So (and Two Weddings)

  Nayna sat curled up in Raj’s lap, his gorgeous, warm, naked chest cradling her while she fed him ice cream and ate twice as much herself. He stroked her thigh, her legs bare—she’d pulled on lace panties after they’d made love but hadn’t bothered with pants. Up top, she wore a simple camisole. Raj was wearing his boxer briefs and nothing else.

  She approved.

  When she misjudged a spoonful and a drop hit his chest, she leaned over and licked it up.

  He groaned. “You’re a devil woman.” He slid his hand up under her camisole, spread it on her stomach. “I can’t believe you threatened to kick Komal’s ass in front of everyone.”

  “I was so mad.” Nayna fed him a little more ice cream. “But at least I remembered to say posterior instead of ass.” Her lips twitched. “And your grandpa likes me now.” The older man had given her a big hug before they left.

  His grandmother was withholding judgment, but that was all right. One thing at a time. “I don’t want to tell my parents we’re officially engaged, complete with a romantic proposal.”

  Raj raised an eyebrow.

  Pointing a spoon at him, she said, “They’ll smirk and be all ‘We told you so’ and ‘We found you the perfect man.’”

  He grinned at her description of him, and she stuck out her tongue. “Be quiet.” Then she kissed him because she couldn’t help it when he smiled. “Your parents won’t say anything?” She’d felt drained after the drama and emotion of the day, needed some time alone with Raj.

  “No—they know we’re doing that tomorrow night, and they’ll wait for everything to happen at a proper pace,” Raj said. “Do you think you can take two or three hours off tomorrow during the day?”

  “Sure, I’m not backed up anymore. Why?”

  “I really want you to wear my ring.” Solemn, intent words.

  He could have anything he wanted from her when he got like that, his love an open secret in his voice, his eyes, his hands.

  And that was how she found herself ring shopping with her sexy hunk the next morning, while trying to avoid being spotted by any aunties who might be prowling the malls and boutiques.

  At one point she hissed at Raj to hide. “Babita Auntie’s just over there.”

  Since Raj was too big to take advantage of the potted plant behind which she’d ducked, he bent down and pretended to tie his shoe, face averted from Batty Auntie’s sharp eyes, until the danger was past.

  “Phew.” Nayna pressed a hand to her racing heart. “My mother wouldn’t talk to me for a year if Babita Auntie learned we were ring shopping before Ma saw my ring.”

  Over the time that followed, she tried on lots of pretty rings, but nothing spoke to her. “I want color,” she’d told Raj before they began. “Nothing too traditional.”

  “Any ring you want,” he’d said, but in the end, it was Raj who found it. “Nayna, did you see this one?”

  The tears came again the instant she laid eyes on the ring he’d pointed out, because he’d listened to her. This was no sedate, elegant, expected diamond. Set in two twists of platinum, it was a deep, deep pink ruby positioned at a sharp angle and bordered by equally angular diamonds cut to refract light.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “That’s my ring.” And this was her man.

  * * *

  It was past eight by the time they pulled into her parents’ drive that night. Raj had arrived late after being held up on a site due to an emergency. The good news was the outcome had been positive. And now he looked incredible in formal black pants and a crisp white shirt under a black jacket. She kept staring at him.

  “You like the suit, huh?” He smiled that quiet, sinful smile at her as he came around to open the door.

  Smoothing her hands down his lapels, she sighed. “I like the suit.” Another unnecessary smoothing. “But I also like the jeans and the tool belt—and the naked.”

  Hands on her waist, he scooped her down to the ground. “You can have the naked later. First, let’s do this.”

  He closed his hand over hers, hiding her ring. Not that it mattered. The instant they walked into the lounge hand in hand, Raj in a suit, his hair neatly combed, and Nayna wearing a pretty dress, her parents started grinning like cats who’d gotten into the cream. Aji did a slightly better job of not looking delighted, but it was a lost cause.

  “Ma, Dad,” Raj said, addressing her parents as they’d asked him to, “we’ve come to ask your blessing on our official engagement.”

  Her father was up and shaking Raj’s hand a second later while her mother kissed Nayna’s cheeks and cried happy tears. “Oh, I knew you two were meant to be.”

  “Yes, you should listen to your elders,” her father added.

  Told-you-sos heroically suffered, Raj and Nayna went to Aji and knelt before her so that she could put her aged hands on their heads. “I wish only happiness for you,” she said in Hindi. “Also, many great-grandchildren for me.” Leaning in as Nayna’s parents laughed, she whispered, “Tawhiri is winning that race. You two better start with triplets.”


  “There is one other thing,” Raj said after the first celebration was over. “We’re not going to rush our wedding. We’d rather focus on Madhuri’s wedding first, then make plans for ours.”

  “Discussion” ensued.

  Raj didn’t budge. Neither did Nayna.

  “I want a wedding that’s mine,” she said. “And I want to have time to figure out exactly what that entails.”

  “We’re not compromising on the number of guests,” her father finally said.

  “No, Nayna, beta.” Her mother held up a hand before she could argue. “You can have the wedding on the date you choose, and we’ll do it how you and Raj want, but we’ve waited a long time for this. We plan to invite everyone we know.”

  Nayna glanced at Raj. He gave her a “best offer we’re going to get” look and they both nodded. “Deal.”

  * * *

  Exactly two weeks later, Nayna kissed her sister goodbye at the airport. A giggly Madhuri, mehndi on her hands from her wedding the Saturday past, waved until she and her equally delighted husband were out of sight. She’d made Nayna promise to involve her in all the wedding preparations for her and Raj’s wedding—there was no question but that Madhuri and Sandesh would be flying back for it in six months’ time.

  “I don’t think I’ve recovered from your sister’s wedding yet,” Raj murmured as they walked out to his truck. Her parents walked ahead. Aji had said her goodbyes at home, plenty of tears included.

  “Tell me about it.” Nayna’s feet ached still from all the running around she’d done pre-wedding. “But she got her dream wedding, complete with glittering chandeliers, that enormous waterfall cake with the perfect topper, and arriving by Rolls-Royce—and that makes me happy.”

  Raj squeezed her hand, which she’d slipped into his. Her hands, too, bore mehndi designs from during the lead-up to Madhuri’s wedding. “I want this,” she said, lifting her hand so he could see the red-brown lines of the delicate work.

  “You can have whatever you want,” Raj said before pausing. “Except for a giant ice sculpture that begins to melt halfway through, almost causing a flood.”

  Nayna burst out laughing at the memory of how Raj and Sailor had sprung into action to avert disaster. The poor melting swan, in danger of imminent decapitation, had been whisked away with alacrity to provide the children running around outside with a source of much laughter and fun.

  “Did Ísa tell you anything about her and Sailor’s plans?”

  “They’re thinking a beach wedding.” Nayna drank in the sunshine outside. “She gets this funny, sweet smile when she talks about it. I think the two of them must’ve had an important moment on a beach.” Ísa had never told Nayna what, and Nayna understood. Some things were to be held close to the heart, shared with only one other person.

  Having reached the truck, Nayna got into the back with her mum while her father got in the front passenger seat. The four of them talked easily as Raj drove her parents home.

  “We have to finish packing for the cruise today,” her mother said.

  Up ahead, Nayna saw her father wince at the idea of a cruise, but he didn’t say a word. Nayna had to fight to keep her grin off her face. It was about time her mother got her own way in their plans. “It’s a week, isn’t it?”

  “Eight days.” Shilpa Sharma sighed. “I need the rest and for someone else to cook and do the cleaning and the laundry. I love Madhuri, but she was a bridezilla.”

  Then Nayna’s well-behaved mother made claws with her hands, as if pretending to be a marauding bridal monster.

  Nayna laughed so hard that she cried—and so did her mother. In the rearview mirror, Raj’s eyes were bright. Her father was actually grinning.

  Life, Nayna thought with a smile, was good.

  * * *

  It only got better as the months passed. Nayna was a bridesmaid at Ísa’s wedding, alongside Ísa’s sister, Catie, and Raj was a groomsman alongside two of Sailor’s brothers and a plus-one. That plus-one was Harlow.

  Sailor’s older brother, Gabriel, stood as best man.

  The sea crashed to shore beyond the wedding party while sand glimmered around them, the sunshine bright. Color cascaded from the flowers in Ísa’s hair and in the clothing of her guests. Sailor wore a crisp black suit with a white shirt and a blue tie that matched the brilliant hue of his eyes and the ribbon tied around Ísa’s living bouquet. That bouquet featured astonishing, lovely succulents and had been created by Ísa’s soon-to-be-husband.

  Raj and Sailor plus his brothers had, together, built a temporary wooden aisle and wedding platform, all of it in a sand-washed wood that appeared aged by the sea itself. Ísa had made the request and Nayna knew why. Catie was incredibly surefooted on her prosthetic legs, but Nayna knew she’d been stressing about messing up Ísa’s wedding by tripping on the sand.

  It was also why they were wearing shoes rather than going barefoot. Even on this most important day, Ísa thought of her teenage sister’s happiness along with her own.

  As it was, the aisle and platform had turned out exquisite. The men had outdone themselves by putting up four posts and connecting them at the top. That had provided the understructure for gauzy curtains and cascades of white flowers. Ísa and Nayna had done a lot of the decoration with Catie and, surprisingly enough, the Dragon.

  With the wedding taking place on the edge of sunset, glass lanterns sat on the sand around the wedding platform, the candles within glowing softly. The seats for the guests were placed on either side of the aisle, simple wicker chairs with flowers woven into the backs. Many of the heavily muscled rugby players in attendance had given the chairs a serious side-eye before gingerly taking their places.

  “You look so beautiful,” Nayna said to her best friend as she fussed over Ísa’s halter-neck dress with lace detailing. Ísa’s red hair blazed against the rich cream of it. The lower half of the dress was flowy and floaty while the upper half was as delicate and pretty as spun sugar.

  Face glowing from within, an inner peace in Ísa’s eyes that Nayna had never before seen, her best friend said, “I’m so ready to marry him.”

  As Nayna stepped out with Catie, the two of them dressed in lovely, simple dresses of sea blue, she felt the same certainty about Raj. He was hers and she was his, and they’d have their adventures together.

  His eyes caught hers as she walked up, and the intense look he shot her was unabashed in its appreciation. Beside her, Catie giggled. Nayna shared a smiling glance with her before the two of them took their places on the platform, ready to watch Nayna’s best friend walk up the aisle.

  The lanterns shone around them, but nothing could compete with Ísa’s glow—or with the light in Sailor’s eyes when he saw her. Nayna had to swallow back tears, was more than ready for Raj to put his arm around her when they followed the newly married couple down the aisle.

  Catie was up ahead with Gabriel.

  Raj kissed the top of her head as the guests rained flower petals down on a laughing Ísa and Sailor. “You like this a lot. Regretting our own plans?”

  “Six hundred and fifty guests at last count,” she reminded him, slipping her arm around his waist. “No way a beach would work. Most importantly, I get to marry you—I would do it even if all we’d been able to find were avocado-green walls. I just want to be your wife.”

  His jaw got tense in that way it did when he was battling strong emotions.

  Rising up on tiptoe, she kissed that jaw. “I love you too.”

  He didn’t say it then. He said it when they were alone and he was inside her and he was holding her in his arms and her breath was lost. “I love you, Nayna. You could break my heart into a million pieces.”

  Eyes hot, she wrapped herself around him as tightly as she could and just held on. And knew she’d have to show her love to him always. He was so strong, Raj, but he had this wound inside him. She didn’t know if she could heal it, but she was damn well going to try. “You’re mine, Raj, and I’m not letting go. Ever.”
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br />   They came together tangled in a kiss.

  50

  Husband and Wife

  Not long after that, they came together as husband and wife.

  This time it was Ísa who fussed around Nayna, checking that her dupatta was fixed perfectly over the simple coil of her hair—simple, that is, but for the strands of gold she’d had put in. The gold glittered through the fine gauze of her bridal dupatta.

  Madhuri had nearly died of cheerful jealousy.

  Edging the light gold dupatta was a band of gold embroidery. Her skirt was a deep pink with intricate gold embroidery, her fitted top matched—complete with borders at the bottoms and at the edges of the short sleeves.

  Her jewelry was the same that Madhuri had worn—their mother’s and grandmothers’ pieces, along with additions that were gifts from Madhuri and Ísa. And Raj’s ring on her finger. All things that meant something to her.

  “You look like an Indian princess,” Ísa whispered, her eyes dancing.

  They both laughed at the memory of the seven teaspoons of sugar with which she’d punished Raj. “He keeps threatening to get me back for that.”

  “Nayna, meri bitia.” Placing a hand on her head, her grandmother gave her one last kiss before walking out to make her way to her seat at the front table—right next to Mr. Hohepa.

  Nayna’s parents told everyone he was Aji’s good friend. The “youngsters’” bemusement caused the two elders huge amounts of glee.

  “Girls, it’s almost time.” Nayna’s mother bustled in, resplendent in a deep aquamarine sari with white beading. She fixed Nayna’s necklace, then turned to make sure Ísa’s dupatta was securely pinned.

 

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