Page 70 of Yes Boss
Ishani’s back pressed against her door as he crowded closer, his body a solid wall of heat against hers. Her hands abandoned his tie to explore the firm muscle of his shoulders, the strong column of his neck, the soft hair at his nape. He tasted like the wine from dinner and something darker, more essential.
When they broke apart to breathe, his forehead rested against hers, both of them panting slightly.
“Come inside,” she whispered, fingers already finding her keys again.
Raghav caught her wrist, stopping her. There was a restraint in the gesture. She saw it in the tightness of his jaw, the darkness of his eyes.
“If I come inside right now,” he said, voice rough with honesty, “I won’t leave until morning.”
“That’s the idea,” she replied, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
He groaned, arms tightening around her waist. “No. Not yet.” His hands framed her face, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You’re not a fling, Ishani. You’re not something quick and easy. When I come through that door, it’s because there’s nothing standing between us.”
She blinked, caught off-guard by the raw sincerity in his voice. “Nothing is standing between us.”
“Not yet,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But there will be. The moment my parents find out I’m refusing theirarranged match, there will be consequences. I need to handle that first.”
The irony of his words made her bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. If only he knew.
“When?” she asked, fingers tracing the line of his jaw.
“Tonight I will tell my parents the truth. That I’ve found someone.” His voice dropped lower, certain. “That no arrangement they’ve made matters because I’ve already decided.” His thumb brushed her bottom lip. “And that they’d better get used to the idea of you, because I’m not letting you go.”
The possessiveness in his tone sent heat pooling low in her stomach.
“Go,” she said, pressing one last kiss to his lips before stepping out of his arms. “Deal with the arranged marriage thing tomorrow. Then come back.”
Raghav took a deliberate step backward, his eyes never leaving her face. “Tomorrow,” he promised, the word heavy with intention.
Ishani unlocked her door, hiding her smile as she stepped inside. Let him believe he was fighting for her against some unknown arranged match. Let him prepare his arguments and strategies. The surprise waiting for him would be worth every second of this charade.
The door closed between them, but the heat of his kiss lingered on her lips long after his footsteps faded down the hallway.
Chapter 19
Raghav’s car sliced through Mumbai’s evening traffic as he rehearsed what he’d say. Simple. Direct. Clear.
He’d never talked about a woman in front of his parents. This was different. This was Ishani.
Khanna Sadan’s gates opened as he approached the gates. He parked beside his father’s vintage Mercedes, took a breath, and headed inside.
The front door opened before he reached it, the household staff ready as always.
“Good evening, sir,” the long-time family servant said with a respectful nod.
Raghav paused, scanning the foyer. “Where are Mom and Dad?” he inquired, his tone clipped.
“Everyone is in the dining room,” the servant replied, gesturing toward the elegant archway leading deeper into the house.
Everyone. So Vikram was here too. Good. His brother could provide some buffer if things got tense. Though Raghav doubted they would. His parents had always bent to his will eventually.
He handed over his jacket and made his way to the dining room. The scent of spices grew stronger as he approached—his mother’s favorite dishes were being served.
He paused at the entrance. His father sat at the head of the table, reading something on his tablet with casual interest. His mother was giving instructions to one of the staff, gesturing with herhands as she spoke. Vikram lounged in his usual spot, phone in hand, looking suspiciously innocent.
He cleared his throat. All three heads turned at once. For a second, there was genuine surprise on their faces.
“Well,” Vikram said, leaning back in his chair. “Look who remembers he has a house.”
