Incense and Sensibility (The Rajes #3) - Sonali Dev Page 0,54

going to find these boxes if we throw a blanket over them.”

“A blanket.”

“Yes.”

“That’s actually brilliant.”

“Thanks. Also, we can still talk even if we stop moving the boxes. I’m strong, but I think I might need to rest my arms now.”

“Sorry.” He was such an ass.

“Don’t be.” She smiled and touched his hand, then pulled away when something zinged between their bodies. Something bright and electric that made his entire existence matter and burned away the usual discomfort that surfaced when women flirted with him. His entire being was seized with urgency. Not being able to speak to her again felt like too big of a risk.

“I have to go and get henna on my hands, otherwise someone’s going to come looking for me.”

He picked up her hand, another zing, and studied how wondrously beautiful it was.

You’re twenty-eight years old, he reminded himself. Get a grip. This does not happen to grown-ass adults. Doubt nudged inside him, but with the way her hand felt in his, as though he were holding it with his entire being, he didn’t let any other thought form. “How long does henna take?”

“I’ll ask for very little.”

God, how was she so perfect?

“I’ll wait for you in the gazebo.”

“Okay.”

“You’ll come, right?”

She nodded. “I’ll try my best.” Then she left.

He sat in the gazebo, the ball of anticipation in his gut fighting for space with the fear that she might not return.

She did.

They talked all night. Gazes clinging, fingers tangled, studying each other’s lips as words they’d never said to anyone else formed on them. Childhood dreams and misadventures. Adult insecurities and missteps. All that they hoped to accomplish with their lives.

He had never wanted to kiss someone so badly. There was such an inevitability to it, and yet when he imagined it, the hunger and wonder of it terrified him. He didn’t let the terror take form. Fear had controlled him for too long. It had locked him up. What he was feeling now was too precious to stay locked away from. So he pushed down every memory that had torn up the connection between his mind and his body.

He let himself imagine kissing her. Somehow he knew how kissing her would feel. It could erase everything ugly inside him. Hope was a magnet. It tugged him forward, then pulled him back to slow down, to not mess things up.

As they talked, their gazes returned again and again to skim lips, desire glowing in the air around them. He took her to all his favorite places on the estate, exposing parts of him he’d let no one else see. But he couldn’t bring his lips to hers.

When she left him the next morning just as the sun peeked over the house because they had to get dressed for the wedding, he told her he’d wait for her near the pool house after the wedding ceremony.

“You’ll come, right?”

She dropped a shy kiss on his cheek, sending heat coursing through his body. “I’ll try my best.” Then she left.

A mix of fear and anticipation churned inside him all morning as he got dressed, all afternoon as he smiled at the guests, struggling to remember their names.

Seeing her again was a burden slipping off his shoulders, but also a breath caught in his lungs. The silk that wrapped her body was neither pink nor blue. A color he could swear had never existed before this moment. The brown of her eyes brightened when she caught the way he drank her in.

They snuck around catching moments, exchanging whispered words, stealing glances across the crush of wedding guests. Just the two of them in a celebrating crowd. It wasn’t until much later, after the rituals were performed, the meals eaten, that they found each other in an isolated spot behind the pool house where the music from the reception wafted over. They found their way into each other’s arms and danced, holding each other and swaying under the brightly lit night. That’s when it happened.

After twenty-four hours of yearning, India went up on her toes and kissed him. It was soft at first, slow, then they fell into it body and soul. Reaching for each other with their lips, hungry for what lay beyond the heat of their skin, beyond the wet melding of their mouths.

Everything Yash was made of turned into that kiss. Weightless and searing and wide-open. His existence turned new and untouched. For a moment he thought he could hold on to it. Then the sound of faraway guests