
Kayra stood on the balcony, her fingers wrapped around a steaming cup of chai, the soft morning breeze teasing her loose curls. Dressed in a simple cotton saree, she looked nothing like the feisty woman Reyansh had known. And yet, she was still hisāMrs. Rathore.
A warm arm snaked around her waist, pulling her back against a hard chest. āYouāre up early, Pari,ā Reyansh murmured against her ear, his voice still heavy with sleep.
She tensed. āYou need to stop calling me that.ā
He chuckled, pressing a lazy kiss to her bare shoulder. āNot happening, Mrs. Rathore.ā
Kayra sighed, tryingāand failingānot to react to the way his deep voice wrapped around her new name. āI made tea,ā she offered instead, lifting her cup.
Reyansh reached over and stole it from her hands, taking a sip without hesitation. āHmm. Sweet, just like my wife.ā
She turned to glare at him, only for him to grind down at her, mischief dancing in his dark eyes. āReyāā
āHmm?ā He leaned in, brushing his lips dangerously close to hers. āWhat, Pari? Want something?ā
Kayra placed a firm hand on his chest, pushing him back. āYes. Space.ā
He tsked, shaking his head. āToo bad. You married a man who doesnāt believe in personal space.ā His grip on her waist tightened as he pulled her flush against him. āEspecially when his wife looks this tempting first thing in the morning.ā
She rolled her eyes, but the way her breath hitched didnāt go unnoticed. āDonāt you have work to do?ā
āI do.ā He ran a finger along her jaw. āBut right now, Iād rather spend my morning teasing my wife.ā
Kayra narrowed her eyes. āIf you keep this up, I might just move to the guest room.ā
Reyansh smirked, his gaze darkening. āTry it, Pari. See how fast I drag you right back into our bed.ā
Kayraās stomach flipped, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing. Instead, she turned back to the view, pretending to ignore the way her heart raced.
But she knew. And so did he.
Because Reyansh Rathore never lost.
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