Married My Enemy (#1 Rajput)

27- 'Crossing The Limit'

Jaanvi smiling/smirking sitting inside the car with Kiaan

Started Typing On - 24/11/2018

Chapter 27- 'Crossing The Limit'

Why should I say no? I mean, I'll be going to another country for free. What else do I need? Jaanvi thinks to herself walking to their bedroom. Kiaan or her in-laws will be paying for the trip but she doesn't care. "Papa held a lavishing wedding, they can do this much. After all, NRI'S." A slight part of her is hoping Kiaan will be paying so she can waste his money in satisfaction.

The strange thing is, he didn't even bother talking to her about the morning incident. Jaanvi didn't expect it either because he didn't text her but the least she imagined—something anyone will—was a 'how was home?' question.

Today's been a long exhausting day. Jaanvi wants nothing more than a good peaceful sleep. Her hand's gripping the doorknob as she begins to close the bedroom door shut but a hand—strong hand—pushes it open. She stumbles back from the unpredictable jerk.

Lifting her annoyed eyes she meets the most beautiful and mesmerizing smirk she's ever seen. Gor—he's Kiaan. Ew. Ew. Ew—

His dimples.

He has dimples.

She blinks. Once. Twice. Thrice. Shell-shocked and rubs her eyes. This is unbelievable to her. She doesn't remember him having dimples—wait. He did. He had them. They only appeared when he's in a goofy and carefree mood. Oh-oh. What's going in his head?

Don't nice people have dimples only? She wonders, staring at him like a creep unafraid of being caught ogling him.

He rolls his eyes—the easy-going eye roll that one takes in pure delight—and pushes her right shoulder carefully to annoy her, "I'm sorry, my stubborn cat but I'm not for sale. Though, I don't mind you gawking me, it builds my self-esteem, you know?" He looks ridiculously dashing with a lopsided grin. He shoves her head back with his palm—flat—and walks inside the bedroom, uncaringly.

He grabs a hold of his black Adidas hoodie. Unfolding it he slips his arms inside the sleeves effortlessly and puts his head inside the hood to wear the piece of clothing properly.

His muscles flex, the veins popping from his arms look a magical blend of blue and green colour and shoulders broad. His body physique is like a proper V. It's large—his biceps aren't huge-huge like a body-builder but they're there. They're there. And visually appealing to anyone. Well, I do admire the beauty. I can't be biased because I hate him.

He pushes his hair back—as if he's inside the shower—turning around. His facial expressions are nonchalant in a—good way. It's not long before he's smiling at her in a silly way. "Stop eye raping me, Ariel."

Her aggrieved and grossed out expressions—she makes a sound and gesture of puking at him—forces her husband to chuckle heartily at her.

"Trust me—" I was eye raping you but that's not the point here. I'm going to follow Dadi's advice to lie sometimes for my good. She bats her eyelashes dramatically, as if she's a queen or princess, "—self-obsession is harmful." She leers at him mockingly and brushes her shoulder with his, arrogantly.

She settles herself on the bed when Kiaan replies. "It gives me immense joy—"

"—to be married to me? Yes, yes, I know." She interrupts with her theatrical voice, hands dismissively waving at him like he's a servant. Lower than her. Legs crossed at the end of the bed, hands flat on the bedsheet on her sides.