She and Connor had lived together now for eight months, first in The Hague and then in their new place on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, near the United Nations Plaza where she worked. His life with her was good, better than he’d imagined life could be. He had no doubts, no second thoughts, no regrets. But he wanted the ceremony to go well. He wanted this to be special for Shanti and their families.
He had worried that his parents might not approve of a secular ceremony with Hindu elements, but they had taken it in stride. His father and Devesh had hit it off from the start, talking about the economics of farming and acting like old friends. His mother and Shanti’s mother, Susan, got along well, too, despite having little in common beyond an unrelenting desire for grandchildren.
Which reminded Connor…
“Hey, Tower, when is that baby due? Aren’tyouthe one who should be nervous?”
Tower’s wife, Jenna, was very pregnant. She sat with Shields and Holly, the three of them smiling and laughing together.
“She’s due in the middle of August—and, yeah, Iamnervous.”
“I’m still trying to wrap my head around that—you a father.” Corbray shook his head, chuckling. “How times have changed.”
That was the truth, and Connor couldn’t be more grateful.
But he’d had enough of this.
“If you boys will excuse me, I want to spend some time with my bride.”
Shanti slow-danced with Connor,a bit tipsy from champagne and more than a little turned-on. “I wish we could sneak away from the party. I want you naked. I miss you. It’s been five long days.”
“Only five? It feels like a month.” He kissed her—and inspiration struck him. “Hey, I could get us a room here in the hotel. We could be quick, discreet.”
Warmth rushed to her belly. “You want to pay for a room for the night just to get it on for fifteen minutes? Brilliant. Let’s do it.”
“I’ll go first. I’ll text you when I’ve got the keycard. You slip away and join me at the elevator.”
Shanti watched him leave, wetness gathering between her thighs, the muscular mounds of his ass looking incredible in his dress pants, his shoulders broad. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on him—all of him.
Taj walked up to her, a drink in his hands. “Where’s Connor going?”
“Oh, I, uh, don’t know. The restroom?”
“There are restrooms over there.” Taj pointed with a nod of his head.
“Maybe he has to make a phone call. The music is pretty loud.”
Taj seemed to buy that. “When I heard you’d gotten together with a guy who’d been a soldier, I didn’t like it. I knew he’d saved your life, but I couldn’t see you with a man like that. He’s nothing like I imagined. I think he’s perfect for you.”
“Thanks, Taj. I’m so glad you feel that way. He makes me very happy.” As much as she appreciated what Taj had said, she hoped her brother would walk away. If he saw her head in the same direction as Connor, he’d put two and two together.
Not that it mattered. The whole not-sleeping-together thing was for the benefit of Connor’s family, not hers.
But Taj kept talking. “I think he’s cool.”
Shanti stood on tiptoe, kissed her brother’s cheek. “He likes you, too. I’m going to see if there’s any cake left.”
She walked away from her brother—and her cell phone buzzed. She left the ballroom by a side door and hurried down the main hallway toward the reception area.
Connor stood near an elevator. “I can’t wait to get you alone.”
Shanti fought to keep her hands off him in the elevator, knowing there were security cameras, secrecy adding to her arousal.
When the door to the room closed, he dragged her against him, kissed her hard, backed her across the small space to the bed. “I want to be inside you.”
“God, yes.” It couldn’t happen fast enough.
He’d had lots of practice with saris now and knew where she hid the safety pins, removing them quickly before pulling the silk from the waistband of her petticoat, spinning her in a circle, and dropping the sari onto the floor.