Reunion

Chapter seven

They showered quickly, forgoing their usual teasing, instead working efficiently to wash themselves and each other. He helped her shampoo and condition her hair and she helped him scrub his back. They dressed and packed as quickly as they could and he called to arrange for their checkout and transportation while she did her makeup - just a light dusting of powder, a flick of mascara, and a tinted lip balm today. She had on a silky camisole with a sheer shirt over it and loose, floaty pants. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. He thought she looked like a flower or a fairy, something ethereal blown in by the summer breeze. Seeing her like this, so composed, made her complete abandon of the last few hours even more precious. 

He watched as she ran her fingers down her neck to the mark he'd left. It was flushed a dark red and was likely to get darker. "Aren't you going to cover that?" he asked. She'd always hidden his marks with makeup. 

She shrugged. "No," she said. "Let people see."

He felt his heart begin to pound. He walked over to where she was sitting in front of the mirror and wrapped his arms around her shoulders before bending and kissing her neck. "Are you sure?" he asked, voice gravelly with emotion. The collar of her shirt would hide the mark to some extent but anyone looking at her for any length of time would see it and know it for what it was. 

She nodded and placed a hand on his cheek. "I'm sure," she said, holding his gaze in the mirror. He turned her towards him and was about to kiss her when there was a knock at the door. "That must be the concierge," she whispered, caught by the way he was looking at her. 

"Must be," he whispered back, staring at her glossy lips. 

"I should answer it," she said, unable to move. 

"You should," he whispered as he ran his fingers into her hair and bent his head.

She fought to keep her eyes open. "I should... I..." She gave up and kissed him. She whimpered in complaint when he tried to pull away. She followed his lips and used her hand in his hair to pull him closer. He sighed and kissed her deeper briefly before pulling back. She opened her eyes, dazed.

"The door," he whispered. 

She sighed and rose from her seat. "Right," she said, squaring her shoulders and almost marching over to it. She opened it and a man in a crisp three-piece suit stood there accompanied by a porter in the hotel uniform. "So sorry to keep you waiting, sir," she said.

"It's no problem at all, madam," he said, stepping into the room. He took in the used plates at the breakfast table, the robes folded over a chair, and the mess of feathers spilling from the bed with an unflappable glance. The porter was young and not as well trained. He looked from the bed to Ranveer sitting at the dressing table to the mark on Deepika's neck. Deepika saw his eyes widen and blushed. The concierge frowned at him. "Rico, please take our guests' bags to the basement car park. Your driver is waiting for you there, madam," he said to Deepika, who was still blushing. 

Ranveer walked up to stand beside her and slipped his arm around her waist. The porter blushed and stopped staring at her and went to do as he'd been asked. Ranveer couldn't blame him, really. She was astonishingly beautiful, and that was on a regular day. Today, freshly showered, happy, relaxed, sated and blushing, she was mesmerising. Especially with her lips still dewy from their kisses and her cheeks reddened by her blush. He realised he'd been staring at her and she was blushing more. He shook himself and forced himself to turn back to the concierge, who was looking faintly amused.