Love : A Wicked Game

Chapter 20 : Hand In Hand

Samaira knocked on the drawing room door and when she heard an authoritative 'yes', she stepped inside. Her question that why he had asked for her presence died in her throat as the sight registered to her brain.

Almost all the space of the grand drawing room was covered with rows of hangers of groom sherwanis in different shades of pastel pink. Some lily, some pink flare, some light mauve. All were intented to contrast with her rosebud cherry dress, she realized with a soaring heart.

"You don't need permission to enter any room of the palace Samaira."

She whirled around to find him seated - more like sprawled on the plush velvet sofa with arms spread open on the back and right leg placed over his left knee. He looked like a king relaxing on his throne, and she would have called him a cruel one if not for his eyes looking softly at her. Filled with love and admiration.

"You called for me ?" - she asked, her tone calm and to-the-point.

He stood up from the sofa and walked towards her with grace.

"Yes, I did. I want you to pick up a sherwani for me."

His words were commanding but his tone held a request that shocked her.

"Please..." - his tone softened further as he put her hair back from her shoulder.

She kept staring at him in a trance. He was actually REQUESTING her! Even after knowing that he could easily have his task done through force.

"But it's your wedding day. You should wear something of your choice. Why do you want to wear my pick out ?" - she asked, her tone soft.

"Because you are wearing what I chose so it's only fair." - he said with a shrug. But his eyes spoke otherwise.

"And what if I don't wear the dress you chose ?" - she asked out of curiosity.

He smiled. "Then I'd still ask you to choose for me Samaira. As a great scholar has said : 'There's no competition with the one you love.'"

Silence reigned. If anything was audible to her, it was her ragging heartbeat. The rush of blood in her veins. And the sound of their breathing which was, surprisingly, in sync. He surprised her sometimes more than usual. A man, as dangerous as him, spoke a love language with her that had never been spoken before in the world. She couldn't believe how he was so soft with her and when she tried to talk him out of the marriage, he would turn his dominating, possessive self again. Apart from letting her go, he was ready to agree on anything and everything she would say or demand.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, she nodded at him and moved towards the first line of sherwanis. His eyes were making her lose focus and she wanted to leave the room as soon as possible. She didn't know if it was her desire to flee or a coincidence, but the first one in the first row grabbed her interest and she pulled it out to inspect.

It was a light mauve sherwani, lightly embellished with rosebud cherry coloured flowers that were sparsely distributed. Along with it was a rosebud cherry velvet stole - aptly matching the blouse of her dress - with an intricately thread worked border.

"And you still say that we don't agree on anything."

She turned to find him smiling satisfactorily at her.

"I also liked that one." - he said, moving towards her and taking it from her hands. "What do you think ? It'll look good on me ?" - he asked, placing it to himself.

"You don't look bad in anything Rajveer. And you know it." - she said crossing her arms and he smirked.

"I know. But hearing it from you feels amazing." - he said with a grin and earned himself her exasperated eye roll.