“Darling,” I whisper, voice thick, “My wife gets what she wants. When she wants it.” If I stay this close a second longer, I’ll lose all control. So, I step back, flexing my shoulders.
“Breathe, baby,” I tell her, my voice coming out thick as a small smirk sticks to my face. She gasps softly, clearly affected.
“I...” she stammers, lost for words.
I laugh gently, loving the flustered look on her face.
So cute.
“No buts,biwi ji. You want paneer tikka, and you’re going to get it. No arguments.”
Still holding her hand, I lead her to the kitchen. She follows without a word, cheeks glowing red. Once there, I gesture for her to sit at the island counter.
“Sit here, I’m going to make you the best damn paneer tikka you’ve ever had.”
“Do you like it spicy or mild?” I ask, already pulling out ingredients.
“Spicy. Always,” she replies absentmindedly, still watching me like I’m doing magic. As I marinate the paneer andprep the skewers, I can feel her gaze on me. Her eyes are wide, full of fascination. She bites her lip as I move efficiently, her focus almost too intense. I glance at her and smirk.
“Should I make the paneer tikka, or should I worry you’re about to eat me instead?” She blinks, startled, then blushes furiously. Red covering her, flushing her cheeks.
“W-what?” She stammers, flustered, and turns away from me. Her head slightly tilting as she hides that small smile of hers.
I chuckle, loving the way she reacts. “I asked if you’re watching me make food or just planning to devour me with your eyes.”
Her mouth opens and shuts, and finally, she narrows her eyes at me.
“You like teasing me, don’t you?” She states the obvious and then huffs aloud. While still narrowing her eyes, she crosses her arms under her chest, unaware of how the motion draws my eyes for a second too long.Shit.Look away, Malhotra. Stop being a pervert.
“I love it,” I grin. Reaching out, I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I love how quickly you blush, the way your lips part in surprise, how your eyes flit away when I catch you staring... I enjoy every bit of it.” Her breath hitches, her cheeks going even redder. She doesn’t meet my eyes; instead, she avoids it, her arms still crossed, chest rising and falling rapidly.
I lean in closer, my chest nearly brushing hers. My fingers trail lightly over her ear before I pinch her nose playfully and pull back.
“You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” I murmur with a crooked smile forming on my face.
A few minutes later, I walk over to her with a plate of spicy paneer tikka. I just finished preparing for her. “Here we go. Try this, baby.”
I offer her a piece, and she takes a tentative bite. A beat passes as she stares at me, chewing slowly, and then her eyes go wide in delight, a soft moan escaping her lips.
“Oh god, it’s so good,” she sighs, eyes fluttering shut with pleasure.
“Told you I could cook.” A grin takes over my face as I watch her eating it with delight.
She reaches for another piece but pauses. Her hand hovers over the plate, then drops to her lap.
She’s gone quiet again. I look at her face, and I know—she’s thinking about her body. About weight. About guilt. Quietly, I take her hand in mine. “Nope. You won’t gain weight from eating a few pieces of paneer tikka,” I say gently, my fingers brushing on the back of her thumb, and I assure her with everything I have got in me.
She looks up at me, eyes shimmering. Silently, she squeezes my hand and finally takes another bite. I don’t even like paneer tikka—it’s spicy and not my thing. But if this is what makes her feel comfortable enough to eat, I’d eat it every day. I’d drink the damn marinade if it helped. Her eyes soften as she watches me eat with her. There’s a quiet kind of gratitude in her gaze.
She’s opening up, bit by bit. And I know there’s still so much about her I don’t know, still walls to break through. But at this moment, I feel like I’ve earned a piece of her trust.
And I’ll always be there to hold her through every vulnerable moment that follows. She leans her head against my shoulder, paneer still in hand, and she sighs. Sigh full of relief. I don’t move. I just hold her hand tighter and find the bliss in the moment. She is it.She is my bliss.
29
SHIVANI
Rudraksh’s birthday is the day after tomorrow, and I still haven’t figured out what to give him. The man already has everything—whatever he doesn’t, he can just buy. After that night, he has earned more respect than before, and now it's my turn to do something that will really make him happy.
