Her lips curved. “Ji, Hukum.”
He glared.
Before he could reach for her, she turned and ran, the first light rising along the eastern wall.
She did not look back.
In her room, she set her dupatta aside. Picked up the anklets. Fastened them around her ankles, her hands not entirely steady.
She lay down, but sleep did not come.
Three o’clock was already waiting.
Morning Two
He waited on the stone platform, legs stretched, eyes fixed on the doorway.
She walked toward him. Before she could sit, his hand closed around her wrist and drew her forward.
Onto his lap.
A startled sound escaped her. His arm came around her waist, keeping her there, settling her against him as if this was the only position that made sense. “Tell me something.”
“What?”
“Anything… Something from yesterday.”
She thought for a moment. “Naina measured my waist four times. The number kept changing.”
His chest moved against her in a suppressed laugh.
“The fourth time,” she continued, “she looked at the tape as if it had personally betrayed her.”
He laughed properly then, head tipping back.
She felt it settle deep inside her.
“And you?” she asked softly. “Yesterday?”
“A two-hour call about London.” His hand moved over her waist. “Spent most of it thinking about this.”
She tilted her head. “This courtyard?”
“About you.”
The simplicity of it pulled her eyes away. She looked up at the sky, light growing stronger.
His attention moved over her neckline. “Naina showed me the wedding sketch.”
Her head turned at once. “She showed you?”
“I asked,” he shrugged, amused. “I have opinions.”
“You absolutely do not.”
“Deep red,” he went on, ignoring her protest. “With gold.”
His hand brushed her shoulder, as if placing the fabric there. “She’s right about that.”