Married in Vengeance (Dynasty Rebels #4)

Chapter 18

Eighteen

AADHYA

She was so tired it felt like even her eyeballs hurt. She pleated her saree for the umpteenth time and tucked it in, checking the folds in the mirror. Shit. They still weren’t right.

Tears stung her eyes as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Maybe there was a dressy salwar kameez somewhere in the recesses of her cupboard that she could fish out for tonight. But if she knew her mother, the wedding trousseau she’d sent over would be heavy on the kanjeevaram silk sarees.

Sighing, she blinked back the tears and yanked the pleats out again. Gathering the heavy folds of silk, she started to pleat it again, concentrating on getting them all to be equal.

A large hand appeared in her vision and wrapped itself around her hand, stopping her from mauling the expensive material. She looked up at him. He was devastatingly handsome in his severe, black suit, the dark silver tie looped loosely around the open collar of his black shirt.

“What are you doing?” she asked roughly, the unshed tears still clogging her throat. She was tired, sad, and lost. She felt like she was losing her grip on her life, like it was grains of sand slipping away through her fingers. It felt like the sand was taking her with it. And for the strangest reason, his fingers clasped around hers were the only thing keeping her anchored in the moment.

Ram didn’t bother with an answer. Those big, broad hands neatly and expertly pleated her saree, the folds falling into military precision like they wouldn’t dare disobey him. As she watched, he tucked the top of the pleats into her tightly knotted skirt. Aadhya sucked her stomach in, the brush of his fingers against her skin making it tingle.

He glanced up, his dark eyes ensnaring hers. Heat burned in them, a banked intensity that had her breath catching in her throat. She ached…every cell, every breath in her body, ached for this man. Before she could make the cardinal mistake of reaching for him, Ram looked away from her. He went down on one knee in a smooth motion, his hands fiddling with the bottom of her saree pleats so they aligned to perfection.

“You’re good at this,” she said to the top of his perfectly groomed head.

“Sisters,” he murmured, straightening now. “Are both a boon and a bane. I’m good at a lot of things I didn’t really need to know to begin with.”

She laughed, the sound surprising them both. Ram looked at her, a small smile on his face. He held the loose fabric of her pallu up. “You want this pleated too?”

Aadhya shook her head. “I’ll just pin and drape it.”

He held the material out to her, and she took it, the tips of her fingers grazing his.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He nodded curtly, stepping away. She watched him expertly knot his tie, run a brush through his thick hair and spray cologne on himself. The spicy, woodsy scent made her want to jump his bones.

But she focused instead on pinning her saree pallu in place. No jumping of bones, she told herself sternly. She had her pride and her self respect. She would not allow her rampaging hormones to override the rest.

“Are you ready to leave or would you like a few more minutes to mutter to yourself?”

The dry, sardonic tones cut through her lustful thoughts, snapping her right out of it.

“A moment more,” she said with commendable composure before pulling her mass of hair into a low, messy bun, checking her makeup in the mirror one last time and spraying on her own perfume.

He came to stand behind her, shooting his cuffs and looking at himself in the mirror. The contrast between her rani pink saree and his black suit was shocking. He met her gaze in the mirror and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away. Here was the man she’d fallen in love with.

“If you’re done admiring yourself, we should leave so we can get this bloody evening over with.”

And there was the man she’d married.

Taking a deep breath, Aadhya moved away from him. “Let’s go,” she said, throwing her pallu over her shoulder and slapping him in the face with it. “I’m done admiring myself.”

She didn’t wait for him to respond, walking out of the room and towards the large staircase that led to the ground floor, where his parents were waiting.

“Good evening.” Her father-in-law looked up at their arrival. “Thank you for finally gracing us with your presence.”

“You’re welcome.” Ram’s sardonic voice from behind her had Aadhya fighting a smile. She bent at the waist to touch her in law’s feet. Her mother-in-law, as always, looked ethereally beautiful.

“You look tired.” Her Athama frowned at her.

“Yes, actually-“ Aadhya was about to launch into an explanation about her long, stressful day but was cut short when her mother-in-law handed her a small tub of makeup.

“It’s concealer,” she said. “One of the best in the market. You want to use it here or in the car?”

Bemused, Aadhya stared down at the small tub in her hand. “Umm, I’ve already done my makeup.”

“Not very well,” the older woman’s gaze roved her face critically. “You still look very tired. Come, I’ll do it for you.”

“She’s fine,” her father-in-law interrupted. “We’re late already. We don’t have time for this.”

“Arrey, but look at her!” Dhanvantri Gadde would not be deterred. “The lipstick is also the wrong shade. This doesn’t work with her dusky skin tone at all. She’s too dark for this colour.”

Aadhya’s face tightened, the insult slicing through her already frayed composure.

“I said she looks fine.” Ram’s father had clearly had enough.

“ She looks better than fine.” Ram’s voice cut through the rising argument. “She looks beautiful. And her name, for those of you who seem to have forgotten it,” he added mildly. “Is Aadhya.”

Silence fell around the little group. Aadhya shut her mouth, her perception of her marriage making the ground under her feet shift a little.

“Let’s go, Nanna.” Ram swept a hand towards the door. “I thought we were late. Either we leave now or I’m going back to my room to get into bed. Take your pick.”

With a muttered huff, his father walked out, with his mother trailing behind. Ram held out his arm to Aadhya.

“Shall we?” he asked. “If you still want to go that is.”

As she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, Aadhya was surprised to realise that yes, she really did want to.