Prologue

Her lips parted slightly, a whisper escaping before she could stop herself:

"Abhimanyu Singh Rathore..."

The man - Abhimanyu - looked up from her resume, his expression unreadable.

"Akshita Mehra," he said slowly, as if tasting her name on his tongue.

She sat straighter, pretending her heartbeat wasn't thundering in her ears.

"So you're from Rishikesh, huh?" He leaned back again. His eyes gleamed with coldness. "So tell me, Miss Rishikesh... why should I hire you?"

Her throat went dry, but she forced her words out. "Sir, my main focus will be on growth and development of the company-"

He raised one eyebrow, cutting her sentence like a blade. "By fighting with the CEO?"

A low chuckle slipped from his lips as he tossed the resume back on the desk. The sound made her blood boil.

"You know what I want to do right now?" His tone turned sharper, colder. "Kick you out of my company. But... but..."

He leaned forward suddenly, his elbows on the desk, his eyes boring into hers. Her breath hitched under the intensity of his gaze.

"I have an offer for you, Miss Rishikesh."

Her brows furrowed. "O-Offer?"

"Yes. An offer to work as my P.A."

Abhimanyu stepped out, steam clinging to his bronzed skin like a shroud. He was wearing nothing but a white towel slung dangerously low on his hips, held together by a prayer and sheer willpower. His torso was a masterpiece of ruthless discipline and elite genetics...six-pack abs so sharply defined they looked like they were sculpted from dark marble. His chest was broad, the muscles taut and glistening with leftover moisture.

A single, rebellious droplet of water escaped his damp, dark hair, traveling slowly down his firm neck, tracing the hard, rhythmic lines of his chest, navigating the valley of his stomach, before disappearing beneath the edge of the towel. It was a sight that could make a saint forget their vows.

She stood frozen, her lotion bottle fell from her hand. Her eyes were shamelessly, helplessly glued to the powerful swell of his biceps and his bare chest. The air in the room, already warm from the storm outside, suddenly felt twenty degrees hotter. It felt like the oxygen had been sucked out of the room by a vacuum.

The moment her survival instincts...and her modesty...finally kicked in, she let out a strangled gasp and spun around with the speed of a spinning top. Her back was to him, her face glowing like a red signal at a high-traffic junction.

"A-Aap a-aise k-kyu bahar aa g-gaye?!!!" she shouted at the wall, her voice cracking in a way that betrayed her panic. "Aapke paas tameez naam ki cheez nahi hai kya?! Kapde pehen kar nikalna chahiye na! Manners seekhiye, Mr. Rathore!"

("W-Why d-did y-you come out l-like that?!" she yelled at the wall, her voice cracking and giving away her panic. "Don't you have any sense of decency?! You should come out properly dressed! Learn some manners, Mr. Rathore!")

"I... I forgot to take my clothes inside," Abhimanyu replied. His voice sounded different...deeper, raspier, vibrating with the dampness of the shower. "This isn't exactly my usual five-star dressing room setup with a walk-in closet, Miss Rishikesh. Stop overreacting. It's just a body."

'Just a body?' She thought, her heart hammering against her ribs like a bird trapped in a cage. 'That's like saying the Taj Mahal is just a building!'

She heard his soft, damp footsteps on the plush carpet. They were approaching her. Her skin prickled with awareness. 'He's coming closer. Why is he coming closer?!' Every step felt like a drumbeat in the silence of the room. The scent of his soap...cool mint and dark cedar...wrapped around her, more intoxicating than the storm outside.

"Stay back! Don't move!" she warned, her eyes squeezed shut.

She instinctively spun back around to reinforce her boundary, but that was a big mistake. He was standing right there...barely a breath away. He was a towering wall of damp, radiating heat. His skin was glowing in the soft light, and he was so close she could see the slight rise and fall of his chest.

In a panic-fueled reflex, as if trying to push back a literal mountain, she thrust her hands out. Her palms landed flat and firm against his bare, rock-hard chest.

The contact felt like a literal lightning strike. The world narrowed down to the sensation of his skin under her fingertips. She could feel his steady, powerful heartbeat thundering beneath her right palm...it was fast. As fast as hers.

"Mr. R-Rathore... p-please s-stop... Wahin rahiye!" she breathed, her voice trembling so much it was barely a whisper. "K-Kya kar rahein hain aap? P-Pehle toh aap..aap aise baat-baat par paas mat aaya kariye,"

("W-What are you d-doing?" she stammered. "F-First of all, you... you shouldn't come so close like this over every little thing!")

Abhimanyu didn't move back. If anything, he seemed to lean into her touch. His dark eyes were locked onto hers, hooded and intense, swirling with an unreadable emotion. Slowly, deliberately, he began to lean in. His shadow fell over her, and his face descended toward hers. Akshita's breath hitched. Her lungs stopped working. 'Is he... is he really going to...?'

"M-Mr. R-Rathore…" she breathed out, "Please…"

Rainwater flew wildly off his dark hair in an arc as his body snapped toward her. The intensity in his gaze made her instinctively take a step back.

"WHY THE HELL DID YOU LIE?!"

She flinched hard, her eyes tightly shutting for a split second as if his words were physical blows. But he wasn’t even close to being done. He stepped away from the car, aggressively advancing into her space.

"WHY THE HELL WERE YOU TRYING TO PROTECT HIM, AKSHITA?! HUH?!" his chest heaving as he stopped just inches away from her trembling form. "Kya rishta hai tumhara uske saath jo uske liye mujhse jhooth bola tumne?!"

(What is your relationship with him that you lied to me for him?!)

She opened her mouth, her voice cracking into a painful sob as she desperately tried to explain through the curtain of her tears.

"I-I… main sirf—Mr. Rathore, meri baat suniye!" she pleaded, reaching out a trembling hand toward him but not daring to touch him. "Main sirf maahol kharab nahi karna chahti thi—"

("I-I... I just—Mr. Rathore, listen to me!" "I just didn't want to ruin the mood—")

But right on cue, another massive flash of lightning illuminated the dark sky, followed immediately by a crash of thunder, and Abhimanyu’s voice cut her off, completely drowning out her desperate explanation.

"YA TOH TUMHE SACH MEIN KOI DIKKAT NAHI THI VOH...VOH DANCE KARNE MEIN USKE SAATH!!!" His eyes darkening to a near-black as the jealousy consumed him. "Ya phir tum uss kameene ko mere gusse se bachaana chahti thi!!! Which one is it, Akshita?!"

("EITHER YOU REALLY HAD NO PROBLEM DANCING WITH HIM... HIM!!!" His eyes darkened to near black as jealousy consumed him. "or you were trying to protect that bastard from my anger!!! Which one is it, Akshita?!")

Her eyes widened to their absolute limits in shock and deep hurt. How could he even think that?

"Nahi!! Bilkul nahi!!!" Her voice breaking with an intensity she didn't know she possessed. "Aap aisa kaise soch sakte hain?! Aapko lagta hai main..."

("No!! Not at all!!!"

"How can you even think like that?! Do you think I...")

She shook her head rapidly from side to side, her wet hair flying across her face as fresh tears poured out of her eyes, instantly washing away with the heavy rainwater streaming down her flushed cheeks.

He took another suffocating step closer, invading her breath.

"Toh phir jhooth kyun bola?!" Abhimanyu’s voice suddenly lost its loud, roaring edge, dropping into something deeply desperate. His gaze burning through her wet clothes. "Meri aankhon mein dekh kar kyun kaha ki tum apni marzi se wahan thi?!"

("Then why did you lie?!"

"Why did you look me in the eyes and say you were there of your own free will?!")

He paused, a ragged breath escaping his parted lips as he stepped directly into her personal space.

"Ek baar... bas ek baar mana kar deti," he whispered, his voice vibrating with protective possessiveness. "Tumhari kasam kha ke kehta hoon, main usi waqt uska wahan muh tod deta... I would have buried him right there. But what did you do? YOU CHOSE TO LIE TO MY FACE!"

("Just once... just once you could have refused," he whispered, his voice vibrating with protective possessiveness. "I swear on you, I would have broken his face right there at that moment... I would have buried him right there. But what did you do? YOU CHOSE TO LIE TO MY FACE!")

Her gaze dropped to the wet concrete ground. She wanted to scream the truth at him—that she was only trying to protect him, his reputation, and his best friend's wedding from a public scandal. But the words felt like lead, completely choking her throat.

Suddenly, before she could even process his movement, his arms shot forward, wrapping around her slender, soaked waist with bruising force.

A breathless, high-pitched gasp escaped her lips as her entire body was forcefully yanked forward, crashing heavily against his hard, rain-drenched chest. Her small, trembling hands instinctively pressed against the wet, dark fabric over his racing heart, trying weakly to push him back.

"M-Mr. Rathore... Aap.. Aap gusse mein hai..." she whimpered, her wide eyes locked onto his burning ones as she felt the manic beat of his heart beneath her palms. "Please... yeh sab abhi mat kariye! C-Chhodiye mujhe..."

("M-Mr. Rathore... Y-You... You're angry..." "Please... don't do this right now! L-Let me go...")

But he wasn't letting her go. He wasn't asking for her permission anymore.

He leaned his face down, his dark eyes boring straight into her soul, his grip tightening until there wasn't a single millimeter of space left between their bodies, their heavy breaths mingling in the freezing air.

"If you can let a him hold you like that on a crowded floor..." His voice dropping into a dark, gravelly whisper that sent a shiver straight down her spine. "Then what is stopping you from dancing with me?"

Her lips parted in shock, but no sound came out. Despite the freezing cold rain lashing mercilessly against her exposed skin, the places where his large, burning hands were gripping her felt as if they were being branded by liquid fire.

His intense gaze dropped to her parted, wet lips for a split second, his chest rising and falling rapidly against hers, before rising back to her wide, captive eyes.

"Let’s dance in this rain… Miss Rishikesh," A dark smirk finally playing on his lips as he tightened his hold, pulling her even higher against his frame. "Let’s see if you can lie to me when I am holding you this close."