Anchored in you

Chapter 62: The Tropical Glitch

If yesterday was about the "Hibiscus Incident," today was about total psychological warfare.

I woke up at 7:00 AM to the sound of tropical birds performing what sounded like a complex jazz fusion set. The light in Ubud is different-it's thick, gold, and smells like damp earth and frangipani. Beside me, the "Formidable CEO" was still deep in a restorative sleep cycle, his arm thrown over his head, looking far too smug for a man who had been hot pink only twelve hours ago.

I watched him for a moment, admiring the sharp architecture of his jawline. But then, the Consultant in me took over. A baseline had been established; it was time for a disruption.

I slid out of bed with the stealth of a cat, heading into the massive open-air bathroom. I had found something in the local market yesterday while Harish was distracted by a "very important" espresso-a small, realistic-looking rubber gecko.

In Chennai, Harish is unfazed by anything. He handles boardroom vipers and digital viruses without blinking. But I had discovered a hidden data point during our first year: Harish Kesavan has a very specific, very un-CEO-like startle reflex when it comes to "unexpected biological units" in his personal space.

I placed the gecko on the edge of the stone vanity, right next to his toothbrush. Then, for the finishing touch, I took his high-end, noise-canceling earbuds and hid them inside an empty coconut shell on the veranda.

I crawled back into bed, opened a book, and waited for the system to boot up.

"Morning, Sami," Harish groaned about twenty minutes later, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep. He reached over, pulling me into a one-armed hug and kissing the top of my head. "You smell like... mischief. What's the agenda?"

"Just breakfast and maybe a walk to the rice paddies," I said, my voice a marvel of flat, professional neutrality. "You should go freshen up. You look like you've been through a jungle merger."

"Funny," he muttered, stumbling toward the bathroom.

I counted. One... two... three...

"SAMAIRA!"

The shout echoed off the ravine walls. I buried my face in my pillow to stifle the shriek of laughter as Harish emerged from the bathroom, his eyes wide, holding the rubber gecko by its tail with two fingers, looking absolutely betrayed.

"A reptile, Sami? We're using fake reptiles now?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Harish," I gasped, finally sitting up and letting the laughter spill out. "Maybe it's a local deity. You shouldn't offend the wildlife."

He walked over to the bed, the gecko still dangling. He dropped it on my lap and leaned over me, his hands pinning my shoulders to the mattress. The "CEO" was back, but there was a dangerous, playful glint in his eyes.

"You think you're so clever," he whispered, his face inches from mine. "But you forgot the first rule of engagement: never leave your flank unprotected."

"Is that so?" I challenged, grinning up at him.

"Yes," he murmured, his gaze dropping to my lips. "Because while you were playing with rubber toys, I was busy recalibrating the 'Sensual Threshold'."

He didn't tickle me. He didn't prank me back. Instead, he began to kiss the sensitive skin just below my ear, his stubble grazing me in a way that made my toes curl.

"Harish... wait... breakfast..." I whimpered, my blush already starting to rise.

"Breakfast can wait," he rasped, his hand sliding under my silk nightgown, his palm hot against my skin. "The wildlife requires... immediate attention."