Katha's POV
Time: 2:30 AM
I was awake.
I was lying on the very edge of the mattress, my body rigid, terrified of moving even an inch. If I shifted, the sheets would rustle. If the sheets rustled, the beast sleeping on the other side of the pillow wall might wake up.
I stared into the darkness, the room lit only by the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains. My hand instinctively moved to my throat, clutching the gold necklace Dhruv had put on me earlier. It felt cold against my skin, like a talisman warding off the chill of the air conditioner-and the chill of this marriage.
Just close your eyes, Katha, I told myself. Force yourself to sleep.
I squeezed my eyes shut, counting my breaths. One. Two. Three.
"No..."
The sound shattered the silence.
It wasn't a word; it was a low, strangled gasp. A sound of pure, unadulterated panic.
My eyes snapped open. I held my breath, listening.
"No... please..."
The voice came from the other side of the pillow wall.
Suddenly, the mattress shifted violently. Dhruv thrashed in his sleep, his limbs hitting the mattress with a desperate force.
I pushed myself up on one elbow, peering over the bolster pillow.
Dhruv didn't look like the Shark. He didn't look like the cold, arrogant billionaire who had ordered me around all day.
He was sweating. In the freezing temperature of the AC, beads of perspiration were glistening on his forehead. His chest was heaving, rising and falling in jagged, uneven rhythms. His brow was furrowed in deep, agonizing lines.
He was trapped in a nightmare.
"Wh... what happened, Dhruv?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "Sir?"
I hovered my hand over his face, unsure if I should touch him. A single tear escaped his tightly squeezed eyelid, sliding down into his hair.
"Everyone..." he mumbled, his voice thick with distress. "Everyone expects so much... I can't... I am not perfect..."
His head tossed from side to side. "At least you cared... why are you leaving me? Don't leave..."
I froze.
Why is he like this? I thought, staring at his tormented face. I hate him. He bought me. He humiliated me.
But looking at him now, stripped of his suits and his arrogance, he didn't look like a monster. He looked like a man drowning.
I turned away, lying back down on my side, squeezing my eyes shut again.
I should not care, I told myself sternly. He doesn't like me. I am here for one year. Just a contract. I am nothing to him.
I tried to block out the sound of his ragged breathing.
But then, the darkness of my own mind played a trick on me.
A memory flashed behind my eyelids.
I was ten years old. The smell of cheap alcohol. The sound of a belt cracking. My uncle's shouting. I was hiding under the rickety bed in the old house, pressing my hands over my ears, crying silently into the dust. I was alone. No one came to save me. No one held me.
My eyes flew open. I stared at the wall, my chest heaving.
I knew that fear. I knew the terror of being alone in the dark while the monsters came for you.
I couldn't leave him there. Not even him.
I sat up, my jaw set. I reached out and grabbed the heavy bolster pillow-the wall he had built between us.
I threw it off the bed.
The barrier was gone.
I moved closer to him, kneeling beside his thrashing form. My hands hovered for a second, then I gently cupped his face. His skin was burning hot.
"I am here," I whispered softy, stroking his cheek with my thumb. "Don't panic. It's just a dream, Dhruv. Just a dream."
He didn't wake up. He was still trapped in the storm. Instinct took over.
He reached out blindly, his hand clawing at the air, seeking an anchor.
His hand found my arm.
He didn't push me away. He pulled.
"Ah!" I gasped as I was yanked forward with shocking strength.
I lost my balance and fell hard against his chest.
Before I could scramble away, Dhruv's arms wrapped around me like steel bands. He rolled over in his sleep, trapping me beneath his heavy body, burying his face in the crook of my neck.
He was shaking. His feverish heat soaked instantly through my thin cotton kurta, branding my skin.
"Don't go," he mumbled into my neck, his breath hot and frantic against my pulse. "Don't leave me alone... please... stay..."
I lay frozen under him. He was heavy, crushing me into the mattress, but I didn't struggle. His heart was hammering against my chest-thud, thud, thud-matching the frantic rhythm of my own.
I should push him off. I should yell. I should remind him of Rule Number One: Distance.
But his voice... it was so full of raw, bleeding pain.
He thinks I am her, I realized, a bitter taste rising in my mouth. He is holding me, but he is begging Tara.
But as I felt the tremors racking his large frame, the bitterness faded. It was replaced by an overwhelming urge to soothe the broken boy hiding inside the man.
Slowly, hesitantly, I raised my hands. I placed one on his sweat-dampened back and wove the fingers of my other hand into his messy, thick hair.
"Shh..." I whispered, my fingers stroking through his dark locks in a soothing rhythm. "It's okay. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
"Promise?" Dhruv choked out, his grip tightening on my waist until it almost hurt, his nose nuzzling against my neck as if trying to inhale my scent.
"I promise," I whispered softly into the darkness. "I am here."
Slowly, the tension began to leave his body. His breathing shifted from ragged gasps to deep, slow intakes of air. He stopped shaking. He slumped against me, his heavy arm draped over me, hugging me as if I were the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.
I wrapped my arms tighter around him, resting my chin on his shoulder.
I could feel his heartbeat slowing down against mine.
It isn't love, I thought, staring at the ceiling. I know that.
But as I lay there, enveloped in his heat, feeling the weight of his trust in his sleep, something inside me shifted. This was the first time in my life someone was holding me.
So this is what it feels like, I thought, a tear slipping from the corner of my eye. To be held.
I knew that when the sun rose, the spell would break. He would wake up. He would see me. He would be angry. He would probably yell at me for crossing the line, for daring to touch him.
But my heart was racing in a way that had nothing to do with fear. My body betrayed me; I didn't want to move. I wanted to stay like this with him forever, in this stolen moment of peace.
I should leave him, I thought drowsily. I should crawl back to my side.
But my limbs felt heavy, melted by his warmth. It was a painful, yet terrifyingly beautiful feeling.
"I know you will yell at me tomorrow," I whispered into his hair, closing my eyes. "But at least for some time... let me feel loved."
I stopped fighting. I let myself sink into the warmth of the husband who wasn't mine.
And with his arms wrapped around me, for the first time in years, the darkness didn't feel so lonely.
Dhruv's POV
The first thing I registered wasn't the sunlight or the sound of the birds. It was the heat.
I was usually a light sleeper. I woke up cold, alone, and instantly alert, ready to tear the business world apart. But this morning? This morning felt heavy. Warm. Soft.
I felt drugged with sleep, a lethargy in my bones that was completely foreign to me.
I tried to move my arm, but it was pinned. No, not pinned. Wrapped.
I cracked one eye open.
The world was a blur of cream sheets and... dark hair. A lot of dark hair.
My vision cleared, and my heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it might wake the person sleeping on top of me.
Katha.
She was plastered against me. Her head was resting on my chest, rising and falling with my breathing. Her legs were tangled with mine, a knot of limbs that defied physics.
What the hell?
I tried to lean back, but that's when I realized where my hand was.
My right arm wasn't just around her. My hand had somehow found its way under the hem of her cotton kurti. My wide palm was resting directly against the bare skin of her waist.
I froze.
Her skin was... God, it was soft. Warm. smooth like silk, but alive. My thumb, acting on some traitorous instinct I didn't authorize, brushed back and forth against the curve of her hip.
Move your hand, Dhruv, my brain screamed. Move it now.
But my fingers didn't listen. They curled slightly, gripping her waist a fraction tighter. It felt... right. It felt like my hand had been carved specifically to hold this exact spot.
I looked around the bed, panic rising in my throat.
Where is the pillow?
I scanned the mattress. The heavy bolster-the "Great Wall of Rathore" that I had so confidently placed between us last night-was lying pitifully on the floor, kicked off the bed entirely.
Did I kick it? Or did she?
I looked back down at her.
She was fast asleep. Her face was turned toward me, lips slightly parted, letting out soft, rhythmic puffs of air against my shirt. Her eyelashes cast long shadows on her cheeks.
She looked... peaceful.
And she looked pretty.
Too pretty.
It was annoying how pretty she was. Without the heavy makeup Suhana forced on her, without the fear in her eyes... she looked like an angel. A clumsy, frustrating, beautiful angel who had invaded my bed and dismantled my defenses in her sleep.
A stray lock of hair had fallen across her face, sticking to her cheek.
Without thinking-without checking with the ruthless businessman who lived in my head-I lifted my free hand.
I gently caught the strand between my fingers. I brushed it back, tucking it behind her small ear. My knuckles grazed her cheek. She was warm.
A slow, unwanted smile tugged at the corner of my lips.
You are in trouble, Rathore, I thought, watching her sleep. Big trouble.
Suddenly, Katha stirred.
She didn't pull away. She hummed-a low, contented sound that vibrated against my chest. She shifted, nuzzling her face deeper into the crook of my neck, seeking my warmth like a heat-seeking missile. Her nose brushed against my throat, her breath hot on my skin.
My breath hitched. My entire body went rigid.
Don't wake up. Don't wake up.
But her lashes fluttered.
Slowly, groggily, her eyes opened. They were hazy with sleep, unfocused. She blinked once. Twice.
She looked up.
Her brown eyes met mine.
For three seconds, there was silence. Just the two of us, tangled in a knot of limbs, my hand on her skin, her face in my neck, staring at each other.
Then, clarity hit her.
Her eyes went wide. She looked down and saw my arm under her shirt. She felt her leg thrown over mine.
"Ah!"
She scrambled backward as if I had turned into a cactus.
"I... I..." she stammered, her face turning a violent shade of tomato red. She pulled her kurti down frantically, trying to cover the skin I had just been touching.
I sat up quickly, running a hand through my messy hair, trying to look dignified despite the fact that my heart was racing at a million miles an hour.
"The pillow," I blurted out. My voice was hoarse. "Where is the pillow?"
Katha looked at the empty space between us, then at the floor where the bolster lay defeated.
"I... I don't know," she whispered, refusing to look at me. She was hugging her knees to her chest, hiding her face. "It must have... fallen."
Fallen. Right.
"You kicked it," I accused, trying to regain the upper hand.
"I did not!" she squeaked, looking up defensively. "You... you toss and turn! You must have kicked it!"
"I sleep like a soldier," I lied through my teeth. "I don't move."
"Well, I don't move either!" she countered, her cheeks still flaming pink.
We stared at each other. The air was thick with the memory of how good it felt to hold her. The ghost of her warmth was still on my palm.
I cleared my throat, looking away toward the window. My neck felt hot.
Why am I blushing? I am a billionaire. I own this city. I do not blush.
"Whatever," I muttered, swinging my legs off the bed to hide my flustered state. "It fell. It happens. Physics."
"Yes," Katha whispered, her voice tiny. "Physics."
I stood up, grabbing my towel, desperate to escape to the bathroom before I did something stupid-like hug her again.
"Get ready," I grumbled, not looking back. "And tonight... I'm using two pillows. Heavy ones."
I slammed the bathroom door shut.
I leaned against the cool wood, sliding down until I was crouching on the floor. I buried my face in my hands.
"Physics," I whispered to myself, a hysterical laugh bubbling in my chest. "Yeah. Gravity. She pulled me right in."