Page 68 of Yes Boss
His answer was to press her against the edge of his desk, hands sliding beneath her blouse to touch bare skin.
Neither of them heard the approaching footsteps until it was almost too late. A sharp knock at the door made them freeze.
“Boss? I need to discuss the marketing budget,” Samrat’s voice called through the wood.
Raghav pulled back, eyes dark with frustration. Ishani quickly adjusted her blouse, smoothing her hair with trembling fingers.
“One second,” Raghav called, his voice remarkably steady for a man whose hands had just been mapping the curve of her spine.
The door handle turned—and then, like a miracle, the shriek of the fire alarm cut through the office. Ishani nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden noise.
Through the door, they heard Samrat curse. “Perfect timing. We’ll talk later, Boss!”
Footsteps retreated quickly. Seconds later, Ansh’s voice came through Raghav’s private line.
“You have approximately forty seconds to look presentable before people start speculating why you weren’t out,” he said, sounding utterly done with the situation. “And you owe me for this. I had to pull the actual fire alarm.”
Raghav sighed, pressing a quick kiss to Ishani’s forehead before stepping back to straighten his tie.
“We’ll continue this later,” he promised, eyes still burning with unfinished intent.
Ishani nodded, tucking her blouse back into her skirt and smoothing her hair. By the time they stepped out of his office, the floor was already emptying, employees filing toward the emergency stairs with the resigned expressions of people who suspected this wasn’t a real emergency.
Near the elevators, she caught sight of Ansh standing with his arms crossed, face perfectly blank as he watched them emerge. Only the slight raise of his eyebrow betrayed his thoughts.
Ishani mouthed “thank you” as she passed. Ansh just shook his head, expression suggesting this was far beyond what his job description—or salary—covered.
Outside in the assembly area, Kavya found her immediately.
“Funny how you and the boss both disappeared right before the alarm,” she said, not bothering to hide her suspicion. “Almost like you knew it was coming.”
Ishani adjusted her watch, the diamonds catching the sunlight. “Pure coincidence.”
“Sure,” Kavya drawled. “Just like those matching watches are a gift from the match your parents found.”
Across the crowd, Raghav stood with the board members, looking every inch the composed CEO despite the slight disarray of his usually perfect hair. When his eyes met hers over the heads of their colleagues, the heat in them could have triggered actual fire alarms.
“So about this arranged match of yours,” Kavya pressed. “When do we get to meet him?”
Ishani smiled, watching as Raghav excused himself from his group and began making his way toward Ansh. “Sooner than you think.”
???
Friday evening, Ishani smoothed her black dress—conservative enough for a client dinner, fitted enough to make Raghav’s eyes darken when she’d changed into it.
The restaurant was only two blocks from the office, but her heart had been racing since they’d left the building, since Raghav’s hand had settled at the small of her back as they walked, his touch burning through the fabric like a brand.
Five days of stolen moments, heated kisses behind closed doors, and increasingly flimsy excuses had left her nerves raw, exposed. Tonight she had to be professional. Tonight the Singapore acquisition hung in the balance. Tonight she couldn’t afford to melt when he looked at her a certain way.
The restaurant glowed with understated luxury—soft lighting, crisp white tablecloths, servers moving like shadows between tables. The clients were already seated, two men and a woman from Singapore International, their conversation pausing as Raghav approached their table.
Introductions flowed easily. Handshakes. Polite smiles. Ishani slipped into her professional role with practiced ease, until Raghav moved behind her chair.
“Allow me,” he said, his voice carrying that slight rough edge only she could detect.
His fingers brushed her shoulders as he pulled out her chair, a touch so brief anyone else would miss it. But the heat of it lingered as she sat, as his hand dropped to rest at her back for one second longer than necessary. The woman from Singapore International—Sarah, VP of Operations—caught the gesture, her eyebrow lifting slightly.
“Shall we order?” Raghav suggested, taking the seat beside Ishani rather than across from her.
