BOOK 1 OF THE UNEXPECTED SERIES
In a world where tradition clashes with modernity, Vaidehi is a modern-day princess bound by society's rigid expectations.
Saransh, a brooding prince with a shadowed past, one he's not keen to reveal. Despite his nobl...
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The dress I wore for tonight was a soft, blush-pink satin piece that clung perfectly to my curves. It was strapless, and flawlessly hugging my torso. Flowing down, the skirt opened into cascading ruffles on each side. The hem floated just above my ankles, revealing pink satin heels. I'd paired the look with a bold perfume, and a hint of gloss that made my lips look as kissable as I felt.
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(Outfit Inspo:)
To finish the look I put on the diamond necklace that had my initials, a 'V', the same one Saransh gifted me on the first day of our marriage saying his mom has got it for me. Later that day when I thanked maa saa for it, she was completely surprised and then we figured out that it was her son who brought it and gave it to me using her name because he was probably 'too shy' to give it to me himself.
Her theory not mine. My theory is that back then he wanted to hate me so much that his conscious refused to accept that he brought a gift for me.
I felt a little sore from what we did earlier in the shower, but I had never been happier. A natural blush coated my cheeks, one I didn't bother to cover it. Saransh had gotten ready a while ago and was waiting for me. I just needed a few final touches because tonight, I wanted to look my absolute best.
When I finally stepped out of the closet area of the suite, he didn't look up at first, busy with his phone. But the sound of my heels on the floor caught his attention. His head lifted, and then our eyes met, and I felt like I was melting into a puddle.
He was wearing a crisp white shirt and khakhi colour trousers. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, giving me a generous view of his chest—though after earlier, that view was tame in comparison.
His gaze moved slowly, reverently, over my face... then down. And then—he choked.
"You..." he started, coughing on his own breath. "You look—"
He couldn't finish it, too busy sputtering. I quickly crossed the room, heels clicking, and handed him a glass of water from the nightstand. He took it with a murmured thanks and drank it all in one go, his throat moving in strong swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing with every sip. My lips parted unconsciously, dry, watching him like I was hypnotized.
