Annika- The Scorned Wife

8. The Wedding Night

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Annika

Ranveer carries me up the stairs, and I can't help but notice how strong he feels, how secure his arms are around me. My heart pounds in my chest, and I wonder if he can feel it. Finally, we reach the room, and he gently places me on the bed. Too gently. Why the fuck does he smell so good? It is so masculine and so... him?

Our gazes lock, and for a moment, the world around us fades away. His hands are still wrapped around my body, and our breaths mingle. I can see the conflict in his eyes, the same conflict I feel inside. His eyes move to my lips. His face inches closer to mine, and I can feel the warmth of his breath on my lips. My heart races, and I find myself leaning in, closing the distance between us.

This is so wrong. Beyond wrong. But why does it feel so good?

I can feel his warm breath on my face. His hands are still wrapped around my body and he still hasn't made a move to retrieve them. It is like he is as lost as I am in the moment.

Just as our lips are about to touch, his phone rings, shattering the moment. He curses under his breath and pulls away to answer it. I can't help but feel a mix of relief and disappointment.

"What?" he snaps into the phone, his irritation evident.

On the other end, I can hear Vikram's voice, though I can't make out the words. Ranveer's expression darkens, and he runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Damn it, Vikram. You put what where?" he growls.

Curiosity piqued, I glance over to see a box of condoms sitting conspicuously on the bedside table with a note from Vikram. My face flushes with embarrassment, and I quickly turn away, mortified.

Ranveer hangs up, muttering a string of curses under his breath. "Damn that fucker."

By this time, I've regained enough composure to slip off the bed. "I'm going to change," I mumble, avoiding his gaze as I rush to the bathroom.

Ranveer's voice stops me at door. "Annika? Your clothes are arranged in the closet next to mine," his raspy voice reverberates around the room.

Without turning around, I make a beeline towards the adjoining closet and step inside.

Once inside, I close the door behind me and lean against it, trying to steady my breathing. The tension from the moment before still lingers, making my skin tingle. I take a deep breath and begin to change out of my wedding attire, my mind racing with conflicting emotions.

Why did he have to be so close? Why did I almost let him kiss me? And why does Vikram have to be such a meddling idiot?

I can't just let him kiss me again. It was a mistake last time. I was drunk. But I wasn't today and I would've still let him kiss me.

What the hell is wrong with me? I can't afford to forget what that man has done. I can't let this physical attraction or whatever the hell it is between us clog my mind. But, what I can do is—use this attraction in my favour. I know I have some kind of bodily effect on him. Maybe, just maybe that can come in handy to get close to him and I can find some information about his illegal activities?

This might not be the strongest strategy but it is the only one I have for now.

Deep breaths, Annika.

Calming my nerves, I look around the closet. It's an enormous space filled with expensive shit my husband owns, namely— suits and more fucking suits. Next to his clothes are mine, neatly kept. Everything is so neat and clean.