Chapter 19: Khushi

"Khussi! Show Arnav-babua where to put the gifts!"

"Yes, Bua-ji."

Khushi wiped her hands on a towel, trying to smile at Anjali-ji – no Di – as Arnav-ji approached.

"Anj—Di, you don't have to help," she protested for the third time, "Jiji and I can handle this."

"Well, I'll help Payal-ji while you show Chhote where to go," his sister smiled cheekily.

Huffing, Khushi tried another tactic.

"I can take them, Arnav-ji, you can go back to the sitting room."

He's already held my hand in front of both of our families. Who knows what he'll do when we're alone.

Her pulse raced at the thought of being alone with him now, when fire zipped through her veins and she wanted nothing more than to bury herself in him.

Stay away from him, Khushi.

"No, I'll take them inside," he smiled, "but I'll need you to show me where."

Pouting, she opened the door that led to the rest of the house and ushered him through before turning into the bedroom she shared with Jiji. He stopped in the doorway to look around, and Khushi looked with him, trying to see it as he would.

Family photos hung on the walls, kept company by posters of Salman-ji, with fairy lights strung haphazardly between them. A cupboard in the corner, a chest of drawers, and a study desk lined the edges of the room, with a four-poster canopy bed taking up most of the available space. Plastic stars hung from its frame, alongside a wind chime and other trinkets that she'd used to brighten up the space.

"Is this your room?" he asked softly.

"Y-yes. Mine and Jiji's."

"You share a room? Damn."

"What?"

"Nothing. Where do you want your gifts?"

Khushi pointed at the study desk, still frowning over his words, and didn't notice him return to her after carefully depositing the gifts on its surface. The door clicked shut at his touch.

"So, Khushi Kumari Gupta," he murmured, stepping closer and closer until she could reach out and touch him, "All these gifts mean that you belong to me now."

"No," Khushi was startled into objecting, "I'm not one of your commodities Mr Raizada. You can't buy me."

"And yet," he took a step closer, "that's exactly what the Shagun is, isn't it? A deposit of sorts. We give you gifts and you're off the market ... so to speak."

"Y-yes," she admitted as she stepped backwards.

"So ..." his voice lowered as he took another step forward, "you're mine now."

"No," Khushi whispered, stepping back.

"Don't you want to be mine, Khushi?" his voice was warm and honeyed, and she shivered in response to it.

"I didn't mean ... That's not what ..." her thoughts scattered as he trapped her against the bedroom wall.

"Mmmm," he hummed, taking a final step so his clothes brushed hers, "What was that? I didn't hear you."

Her mouth opened and closed but words failed her. All she could hear was the pounding of her heart as she focussed on the buttons of his waistcoat.

"Look at me, Khushi," he whispered.

She complied reluctantly and wondered at the fire that burned in his eyes. Not anger, but something akin to hunger that left her breathless.

"I have something for you. Close your eyes."

No.

Yes.

Her eyelids fell as her other senses worked in overdrive, alert for his next move. Khushi wondered what he saw – did he see the heave of her chest as she struggled to draw breath? The flicker of her eyelids as she tried to keep them closed? The tremble of her lips as she waited for him to complete what he always started in her dreams? But he surprised her by chuckling.

"Relax. I'm not going to do anything you don't want, I promise."

But I want you to.

He took her hand and raised it to his lips, holding her fingers there before pressing them to her own lips. A kiss ... and yet ... not a kiss. Khushi shuddered as he placed something into her hand.

"Open your eyes," he whispered, his breath disturbing her fringe and causing it to tickle her forehead.

The package was small but heavy. Arnav-ji nodded at her when she glanced up at him, so Khushi opened it carefully to reveal four bangles in red and gold. She gasped at their beauty.

"They'll match the sari Di gave you."

"The one you chose," she remembered, "I'll wear them on Teej."

A blush rose to her face as she realised that this year, for the first time, she'd be keeping a fast for him rather than the idea of the perfect man and a perfect marriage.

Her man.

Her marriage.

"I like you in red," Arnav-ji confessed in a whisper.

One at a time, he slid the bangles onto her wrists, unravelling something inside her with every touch. He admired his handiwork when he was done.

"I'll send over a sari for you to wear. A red one to match these."

"I can wear the one you gave me."

"No," he said gruffly, still standing so close that she inhaled his scent with every breath she took, "Only I get to see you in that one."

Khushi nodded, her voice failing her again as she imagined dressing up for him.

"Khushi ..." he murmured, "All those gifts were for you."

"Wh-what?"

"No one took me off the market. Aren't you going to give me a gift? Make me yours?"

"I don't ... I didn't ..."

"I'm sure you can think of something," his whisper sent a shiver of longing through her.

I can think of a hundred things. But to be brave enough ...

Khushi thought of their collision in his home ... of her hand in his as they walked around the lake ... of the kiss he never gave her in her dreams. Gathering her courage, she slid her arms around his waist and hugged him for the first time. He was warm and solid and hers. For a time, she was content to snuggle into him, but she frowned when she realised that his arms hadn't come up to hold her. When she began to move, shy and second guessing her boldness, she felt a gentle touch to her head.

Is he ... patting my hair?

He was.

She smiled against his waistcoat as he ran his fingers through it, and they stayed like that until someone knocked on the door.

"Khushi," came Jiji's voice, "Bua-ji is looking for you."

They broke apart with reluctance, her hands lingering on his jacket for as long as they could.

"Don't make a habit of this," Arnav-ji teased, "I won't tolerate you leaving me when you're Mrs. Khushi Singh Rai-"

Khushi clamped a hand over his mouth. "-Shhhhh! It's a bad omen! I'm not yet yours!"

He arched an eyebrow - oh Devi Maiyya how she wished she could do that! - before glancing pointedly at her hand. Khushi snatched it away as if burnt.

"You're not mine?"

"I am yours, but after the Roka ... " she trailed off as she registered the victorious glint in his eye.

Time seemed to stand still as Arnav-ji smirked at her. She blushed deeply.

"It's red," his smile became wider.

"What is?"

Her eyes opened wide as he flicked her nose with a gentle finger, "Your nose."

He stepped away and disappeared through the door, leaving her standing against her bedroom wall with a hand to her nose, cheeks still pink. Khushi smiled.

Laad Governor.