Rebel Hard (Hard Play #2) Read online

  Her grandmother frowned. “Be careful, beta. I think he’s a good boy, but… I don’t want you to be hurt like Madhuri.”

  That was another thing they didn’t talk about; how Madhuri’s husband had abandoned her for another woman after two years while Madhuri was scraping by in a minimum-wage job. If Aji hadn’t sent through enough money for airfare, Madhuri would’ve been stuck on the far side of Australia with no way home.

  “I’ll be okay, Aji.” Nayna hugged her grandmother’s comforting form, the velour of Aji’s yellow tracksuit still not as soft as her grandmother’s skin. “I know you’ll always have my back.”

  She kissed her grandmother on the cheek… and caught a whiff of masculine aftershave. “Were you with Mr. Hohepa?” she asked on a gasp.

  Her grandmother’s eyes twinkled. “We took a walk through our gardens. He’s growing zucchinis the size of watermelons!” She waved a hand. “Shoo. Go have a walk with your young man. Every girl should have some romance.”

  Romance is for children.

  Nayna didn’t think Raj had been acting the bastard there—that was what he actually believed. While she had a stash of romance novels that kept growing. But she didn’t say anything to her grandmother and went out the back door. Unlike the front door, it didn’t squeak or make other betraying sounds. Probably the reason why her grandmother used it to sneak out with Mr. Hohepa after everyone else was in their rooms.

  Raj was waiting for her at the end of their drive, his body obscured by a tree until she was close to him. He stirred before she reached him, an intimidatingly large male silhouetted against the night. Nayna wasn’t afraid—not physically anyway. Raj didn’t strike her as the kind of man who’d ever hurt a woman.

  When they’d been together, he’d been rough but in a sexy way. Never hurting her even though he was so much stronger. His hands had been careful on her skin, on her breasts, and she thought if they’d gone all the way, he’d have taken care entering her.

  Her skin prickled, her thighs clenching.

  14

  Suburban Parks Are a Hotbed of Sin

  Despite her visceral and immediate reaction to Raj—would it always be like this, a conflagration?—Nayna managed to keep it together until they were in the privacy of the park. Since this was a suburban area filled with families, there was no one else there tonight, the children’s play equipment their only companions.

  “Here.” She thrust out the letter toward him.

  His hand came up instinctively to take it, the look he shot her hard in a way she was starting to realize didn’t mean anger. “You didn’t read it.”

  “Of course I read it,” Nayna said. “I’m a woman, not a paragon of self-control.” She folded her arms. “I just thought you should have it so you never have to worry that it might fall into someone else’s hands.” He’d shared an intensely private truth with her, and Nayna would never speak about it, but she wanted him to have this insurance as well.

  Folding the pages, Raj put them in the back pocket of his jeans. “Will it help if I apologize again? I was an ass. I’m sorry.”

  Nayna puffed out a breath. “Apology accepted.”

  Raj had opened a vein for her when he was a man who fiercely guarded himself and his privacy. It had crumbled her anger to the earth, left her floundering. And as far as apologies went, she liked his blunt way of accepting that he’d fucked up and needed to apologize.

  He stared at her for long minutes, as if trying to read the meaning beneath her equally frank words. “So, where does this leave us?” he asked, his muscles still tense and his gaze making her want to shiver for all the right reasons.

  Turning on her heel before she surrendered to the raw physical pull between them, Nayna went to sit down in a swing. It was meant for older kids, so her feet didn’t drag too much.

  Raj followed, coming to stand behind her. “Lift your feet.”

  When she did, he pulled back the swing and let go. Nayna whooshed through the summer night air, her hair flying back from her face and a smile creasing her cheeks. Raj pushed her when she reached him again and she flew a second time, then a third and a fourth, her smile turning into a grin of delight. “I haven’t done that in forever,” she said to him afterward, her legs a little wobbly as she got up. “It was fun.”

  Unsmiling, Raj cupped her cheek, and for the first time since she’d known him, his actions were tentative. When she didn’t pull away, he ran the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone and stepped closer until her breasts pressed up against his chest. She hadn’t put on a bra under her navy T-shirt, and her nipples felt like tiny bullets sizzling against the heat of him.

  The kiss was slow, deep, demanding, one of Raj’s hands in her hair, the other one plastered flat to her back to press her against him. The thick ridge of his erection pushed into her abdomen, causing inner muscles to spasm in need. A whimpering sound escaped her, her hands sliding up his chest to link around his neck as she rose on tiptoe in an attempt to get closer.

  Raj’s chest rumbled… and a car went past on the road, the beams of its headlights momentarily flashing past them. Jerking, Nayna put at least a foot of distance between them.

  “We can’t do this.” It wasn’t fair to Raj. “Not when I’m not even sure I want to be married anymore.”

  Lines forming on his forehead. “What’s changed?”

  Nayna told him the unpalatable truth. “I realized that my life isn’t mine. I’m allowing everyone else to drive it.” It was about damn time she took control. “And as for us…”

  Uneasiness bloomed in her stomach at the memory of his letter, of her understanding of his wariness against the kind of love and trust she’d need to have in a man to walk into marriage. “I don’t want to end up living the same life for decades to come. I don’t want to end up resentful toward my husband. I have dreams that don’t involve living in a suburban house and raising babies. At least not yet.”

  Hands on his hips, Raj watched her with those eyes, so serious and intent. “Will you trust me with your dreams?”

  Lips twisting, Nayna spoke quietly. “They’re nothing extraordinary. Things millions of people do every day. Travel, adventure, being free to make my own choices.” She pushed her fingers through her hair. “You know how my parents said I didn’t go to parties as a student?” Her breath came faster now, her chest heaving. “It wasn’t a choice. I haven’t had a lot of choice since I was fourteen and Madhuri ran away. Now… sometimes I feel as if I can’t breathe.”

  * * *

  Raj didn’t stagger under the weight of Nayna’s words. He’d braced himself for the worst, and though what she’d said wasn’t good, she’d kissed him back as passionately as she had at the party. So he hadn’t fucked up to the point that she found him repulsive now.

  Relief a cold rain in his blood, he said, “Meeting and kissing a man in a park after dark, does that count as adventure?” He needed direction here; Raj was used to laying straight lines and using a level to get it exactly right. But clearly Nayna wanted to go off-plan.

  She looked intrigued at his question. “It’s definitely not a good-girl thing to do.”

  “Then how about you give me—us—a chance to figure this out?” Raj was a builder, a fixer, and already his mind was trying to work out ways to fix this so that Nayna saw a future in them. “Don’t end us before we begin.”

  “Raj.” Her teeth sank into her lower lip, causing his body to harden all over again.

  He moved closer because she reacted to his body, and he’d use every advantage he had to fight for her. Whatever this was between them, this thing that had scared him with its potential power, it wasn’t a thing that came around every day. “I don’t want to be kissing any other woman. Do you want to be kissing another man?” The last words came out a growl.

  “Ugh!” With that infuriated sound, she hauled down his head and kissed him with a ferocious kind of fury. “Fine, I won’t call off the entire thing yet. But you should know you’re fighting an uphill battle.”r />
  “I know.” It had taken him a while to work through her words, but he got it now. Nayna wanted no more bonds after a lifetime of being held prisoner to the bonds of family.

  Yeah, he damn well knew the battle he’d have to fight. And fight it he would. Because this was a war he intended to win. He wanted Nayna to love him as fiercely as she loved the family for whom she’d swallowed her dreams. “I looked up Lizzy Bennet.” It had been an eye-opener.

  A blink, followed by a twitch of her lips. “Oh?”

  “Does that make me Mr. Darcy?”

  Nayna snorted. “You can only wish.” A glance at the night. “I should get back.”

  Walking her home, Raj said, “Do you like that book? Pride and Prejudice?”

  “It’s one of my absolute favorites,” she said before adding, “along with a zillion historical romances.”

  Raj took the blow she hadn’t realized she’d thrown. He had a very clear memory of telling her romance was for children. It was what he’d always believed—that it was commitment and hard work that mattered to hold a relationship together. Romance was fluff and daydreams and disappeared liked cotton candy under the first rain of reality.

  His brother, Navin, was a case in point. He’d fallen head over heels for Komal in college, sending her roses and chocolates, writing bad love songs that he recorded for her, spending hours mooning over her on the phone. Navin had waited only until he and Komal had both graduated and he had a job before he asked her to marry him.

  Raj’s parents had been surprised, but since there was nothing objectionable about Komal, a nurse who had a position at the city’s major hospital, they’d celebrated the wedding with fanfare. Raj had been happy for his brother too, had cheerfully helped with anything the couple needed for their wedding.

  Two years on and Navin was ducking his wife more often than not.

  As for Komal, she’d become impossibly more shrewish.

  Raj was glad every single day that he didn’t live in the large family home with the rest of the Sens. The flat he’d built for himself at the far end of the garden was close enough to his parents and sister that he was there for them whenever they needed him, but far enough from Navin and Komal that he didn’t get caught in the cross fire of their disdain for each other.

  Poor Aditi often hid out in his flat too.

  “Romance doesn’t last,” he said to Nayna, unable to be dishonest about something so fundamental. “It fades. Loyalty lasts. Fidelity lasts.”

  Nayna stopped at the end of her drive, her dark eyes holding his. “Do you know what my father did a month ago? He drove an hour to find the perfect cream buns my mother was craving. Romance lasts if you want it to last.”

  Raj scowled. “That’s not romance. It’s just listening to your wife and being a good husband.”

  Tilting her head to the side, Nayna gave him a considering look. Then, without warning, she walked back to him and crooked a finger. Frowning, he bent his head… and she kissed him all soft and slow, her hand on the back of his neck. A hand with bones far more delicate than his, but he couldn’t have broken her hold if his life depended on it.

  He was still standing there on the sidewalk long minutes after she’d disappeared into the house, utterly befuddled about what he’d done that had earned him that kiss. Whatever it was, he had to figure it out quickly. Because he wasn’t about to lose a woman who looked at him that way, who touched him that way, who knew his secrets and hadn’t used them to hurt him.

  15

  The Male Point of View

  Nayna went into work on Saturday to clear a few final things before she shut down for summer vacation. It felt strangely quiet after the emotional upheaval of the previous day, so she was glad to pull into her drive around three to see her grandmother and Mr. Hohepa heading off for a walk, Pixie happily nosing about in front of them. Aji wore a blue velour suit with white racing stripes while Mr. Hohepa wore tan slacks and a light blue polo shirt, the hat on his head rakishly perched and his cane a glossy black.

  As if the two had coordinated their outfits.

  Aji was chattering away animatedly to him, and every so often, he’d laugh a big belly laugh, his light brown skin glowing under the summer sunlight.

  “Go, Aji.” Nayna smiled, but it didn’t last long—she spent most of the next two hours avoiding her parents’ attempts to question her about Raj. Going out into the garden to hide out on the swing, she stared up at a sky lit with summer sunshine, missing being held against a big, warm body and kissed with an erotic intensity that said Raj was focused on her and only her.

  She shivered, thought about calling him, but no, the ball was strictly in his court now. Her lips quirked at the memory of the baffled look on his face after she’d kissed him last night. The poor baby hadn’t had any idea what he’d done. But the way he’d scowled and said that it was all about listening and being a good husband, that had hit every one of her romance-hungry buttons.

  It had also chipped away at her walls.

  The idea of a husband who listened and gave her what she needed… it was a seductive one. But could Raj give her freedom in the long term, or would the rules change over time? The idea of feeling trapped, of slowly suffocating all her life… No, Nayna couldn’t, wouldn’t do it. Raj had more than an uphill battle ahead of him—he was also fighting to push up a giant two-ton rock while engaging in that battle.

  “Nayna!” her mother called out from the back door. “Come and get ready. We have to go to Pinky’s!”

  “Coming!” Nayna called back, glad to have the distraction of the pre-wedding ceremony tonight. She knew her mother and grandmother had been attending wedding festivities throughout the week, including the ceremony where turmeric paste was rubbed all over the bride.

  Nayna wondered if sophisticated “mineral water only” Pinky had enjoyed being turned yellow by gleeful aunties and cousins. Grinning, she walked into her bedroom and pulled out a vivid green sari with gold detailing that wasn’t so heavy that she couldn’t put it on by herself. The task of turning meters of fabric into an elegant ensemble was one in which Nayna was yet a novice.

  Ísa called mid-wrap, and Nayna ended up confessing that she’d kissed Raj. She simply couldn’t help herself around him. It was a sickness—and no, she didn’t want to be cured. Her heart pounded at the thought of how he’d tasted her with slow deliberation; her skin flushed. Hanging up the call with Ísa before she gave away her current state, she took a couple of minutes to calm down before ensuring her makeup was up to scratch.

  She decided to add gold eyeshadow and thicker mascara to jazz things up.

  Last was the jewelry. Today she stuck with bangles that matched the gold in her sari as well as dangly gold earrings. At the last minute, she added a gold bindi.

  As a single woman of a certain age, she had to go armored.

  Yesterday at the Mehras, the assembled aunties had all squeezed her cheeks and told her she was a pretty girl. Then had come the questions about why she wasn’t married. “Youth won’t last forever” was the sage advice, after which they’d complimented her on her career.

  Today Madhuri came to her rescue with one particularly insistent auntie who was crossing the line from nosy to hurtful. “I’m so sorry,” Madhuri said sweetly, “but my sari’s coming loose at the back and I need Nayna’s help.”

  “You young girls.” A shake of the head. “Don’t you know how to use safety pins? You have to get the big strong ones. Go, go, fix it!”

  After leading Nayna out of sight, Madhuri turned and winked at her. Her pale pink sari with white crystals on it was wrapped perfectly around her tall and voluptuous body. Nayna could tie a sari, but she’d need an hour and at least two boxes of safety pins to put on the slippery, heavy creation Madhuri was wearing. And even then she’d be scared she’d step on it and unravel the entire thing.

  “Auntie Babita’s such an old bat.” Madhuri rolled her eyes. “Even her face is kinda batty looking, don’t you think?”

  Nayna
grinned because this was her slightly wicked older sister, and no matter what, Nayna loved her. “Now I’m going to think that every time I talk to her.” She hooked her arm through Madhuri’s. “Thanks for the rescue, Maddie.”

  “What are sisters for?” Madhuri nudged her shoulder. “Ma told me about this Raj guy. He sounds hot.”

  A sudden, awful lurch in Nayna’s gut. Raj hadn’t met Madhuri, she suddenly realized. She couldn’t help but imagine his reaction when he did. Her sister genuinely looked like a Bollywood movie actress. Fair skinned; shiny, tumbling hair with tousled curls; height enough to match Raj’s; and a lush sensuality that drew men like moths to a flame regardless of her status as a young divorcée.

  “He is supremely hot.” Nayna tried not to feel nauseated at her belated realization, at the knowledge that the man who’d called her beautiful had never met the other Sharma daughter. “But why don’t you tell me about your new job?” she said, desperate to get off the painful topic. “We haven’t had much of a chance to talk since you started there.”

  Madhuri squeezed Nayna’s arm. “Seriously, Ninu, I love it so much.” A glow in her features that made her impossibly more stunning. “I think it’s my thing.”

  Nayna nodded and listened and hoped her sister was right. So far Madhuri hadn’t stuck with anything for more than a year. She managed to pay her rent and keep her finances stable only because their parents and Nayna topped her up. Nayna knew Aji gave her the odd monetary gift too. As an accountant, Nayna was well aware they should let Madhuri sink or swim on her own so she’d learn better financial management, but it was highly unlikely Madhuri would do anything but drown.

  Her older sister had never been able to handle money.

  It felt terribly unfeminist to even think it, but Madhuri had been born with the kind of beauty that usually led to a rich husband who took care of everything. That could still happen; regardless, Nayna would never leave her sister to flounder and drown. “Anyone you liked in the most recent proposals?” she asked.