The door shut behind him, leaving her in echoing silence.
Only his scent remained, rich and masculine and clinging to her like a kiss.
Nayna burst into tears.
* * *
Raj had no idea where he was going, but he turned left after he came out of the cabin and went down the path marked out by the beaten-down grass. A sign appeared about a hundred meters in. It indicated that this track led to a large waterfall and that it would take him an hour to make the return trip.
He set off, more than willing to burn off his emotions with the physical. Native birds sang around him, and the sun speared through the forest, but he saw none of the beauty, felt none of the calm. His heart was thunder, his skin so tight he felt it would burst if he clenched his muscles any harder.
Nayna had been a virgin. She hadn’t slept with anyone all this time—and he’d thought that she was choosing him. And she had, but only for her first time. Not forever. Fight for me, he’d begged her silently. But Nayna wasn’t trying to hold on to him any way she could; she was ready and willing to walk away.
Fuck, his throat was closing up.
Bending over with his hands on his thighs, he breathed through the burn at the backs of his irises, breathed through the tearing in two of his heart. He’d had to leave the cabin before he splintered right in front of her.
So what are you going to do, Raj? asked the part of him that had come here with the secret, beautiful dream of taking her home as his bride. Leave her? Try to find another wife?
Raj rose, shoved a hand through his hair. As if that was even an option. Nayna Sharma was his forever. No woman could make him so happy… or hurt him so badly. She was light and laughter and sinful smiles that held him captive. He couldn’t imagine doing with anyone else what he’d done in that cabin with her.
The idea of waking up next to her for a lifetime, it filled all the hollow places inside him.
But to Nayna, was he freedom and love and happiness… or was he a cage?
29
Nayna Sharma, the T-Shirt Thief
Nayna didn’t know what to do.
Her lower lip trembled every time she thought of Raj walking out.
Desperate not to be here when he returned in case he just picked up his bag and left—like she’d told him to—she cleaned herself up and put on a fresh pair of panties and her jeans, along with one of her own T-shirts. Raj’s T-shirt she folded and was about to put on the bed when she hesitated… and decided to hide it instead.
She didn’t care if it was pathetic; she needed a piece of him, needed his scent around her.
Lost afterward, she almost reached for her phone and called Ísa. But she wasn’t ready to talk about this, wasn’t ready to put this horrible sense of loss into words. Stuffing some money into her pocket, she walked out the door and toward Franz Josef town instead.
Sugar and carbs would help.
Wouldn’t they?
* * *
Raj returned to the cabin to find it empty. He wasn’t exactly surprised.
Leaving the cabin, he didn’t try to call Nayna but decided to walk into the town instead and see if he could spot her. While it wasn’t a tiny place, it was small enough that he could theoretically find her if he went in the right direction.
After reaching the edge of the commercial area, he saw that the restaurants and cafés were bustling. Plenty of people, most of them tourists and hikers. Way more people than he’d expected, but none of them a slender woman with sleek black hair and subtle curves, her eyes sparkling and her lips generous.
A moment’s thought before he went with his first instinct and aimed himself toward the bakery he’d seen as he drove in. Its sign—painted a bright pink—stood out against the dark green of the forest all around them. Nayna said he didn’t see her, didn’t know her, but Raj listened to everything she said—and the things she didn’t.
He found her seated outside, finishing off a mug of frothy chocolate. When he slid into the seat across from her, she gave him an unreadable look.
“So, when are you leaving?”
Raj’s gut clenched. “I’m not that easy to get rid of,” he said, ready to battle for her.
Lower lip quivering, she ducked her head and his heart, it kicked hard.
“Nayna, jaan.” Ignoring the others around them and driven by raw protectiveness, he moved faster than he’d ever before done. He hauled her up into his arms and cradled her tight, one of his hands cupping the back of her head and his other arm locking around her.
“Don’t cry. Please, Nayna. I’m sorry I left like that.” He’d apologize for anything she wanted if she’d just stop sobbing against him as if he’d walked on her heart with steel-toed boots. “I won’t ever do it again.” He’d been protecting himself, and in so doing, he’d hurt her. “I’ll stay and fight with you.”
A shuddering sniff, words mumbled out against his chest that he had no hope of understanding, she was still crying so much. Raj held her even tighter, shielding her from the curious gazes of others walking in or out of the bakery. It wasn’t too busy, but he didn’t like anyone seeing his tough Nayna brought down so low.
“I told you to go,” she said, and this time he heard. “I was being self-sacrificing.” A hiccup, more tears. “It was stupid.”
Wrecked though he was, he felt a smile burn to life on his lips. “You don’t want me to go?”
A fierce shake of her heard. “I want to keep you forever.”
With those words, she sealed the break in his heart, made it stronger than new. That was the only thing he’d ever needed from her. “Then we figure this out,” he rasped against her ear, stroking his hand over her hair. “We make it work. Our way. No one else’s.”
Another sniff, Nayna rubbing her face against his T-shirt. “I can’t walk through town like this.”
“Just tuck yourself against me. I’ll protect you.” Always he’d protect her.
* * *
Nayna’s ravaged face ripped at him when they reached the cabin.
She took one look at his own face and said, “One minute” in a voice that had gone husky as a result of the emotional storm.
A few steps and she closed the bathroom door behind herself.
When she emerged, he was seated in one of the lived-in armchairs in front of what looked to be a gas fireplace but might’ve been electrical. He hadn’t ever put in one of these models on a project, didn’t know the brand name. But he’d worked out how to turn it on, and it was running when Nayna stepped out of the bathroom, as, despite it being summer, the rainforest air was cool.
She’d washed her face, brushed her hair back, and looked bright-eyed.
For him. Because she’d seen what it was doing to him to watch her in distress.
Lifting an arm in invitation, Raj said, “Come here.”
She came, curling onto his lap, a small armful of woman who fit him perfectly. The fire crackled next to them in an excellent imitation of a wood-burning unit.
“This cabin is very well built,” he told her, finding his anchor in the familiar. “Look at how carefully the beams have been placed, the metal brackets they’ve used. It was done by a master carpenter on-site, not prefabricated in a warehouse somewhere.”
“I’ve been here over a week and I never noticed any of that,” Nayna murmured. “Tell me more of what you see.”
So he did, and she asked questions that told him she was really listening and appreciating his point of view. He’d never actually thought about the conversations they might have after marriage—when he’d been hell-bent on marriage—but he should have; Nayna was a white-collar professional, Raj a blue-collar tradesman at heart. He ran the family business, but his passion was in the work itself.
Only his scent remained, rich and masculine and clinging to her like a kiss.
Nayna burst into tears.
* * *
Raj had no idea where he was going, but he turned left after he came out of the cabin and went down the path marked out by the beaten-down grass. A sign appeared about a hundred meters in. It indicated that this track led to a large waterfall and that it would take him an hour to make the return trip.
He set off, more than willing to burn off his emotions with the physical. Native birds sang around him, and the sun speared through the forest, but he saw none of the beauty, felt none of the calm. His heart was thunder, his skin so tight he felt it would burst if he clenched his muscles any harder.
Nayna had been a virgin. She hadn’t slept with anyone all this time—and he’d thought that she was choosing him. And she had, but only for her first time. Not forever. Fight for me, he’d begged her silently. But Nayna wasn’t trying to hold on to him any way she could; she was ready and willing to walk away.
Fuck, his throat was closing up.
Bending over with his hands on his thighs, he breathed through the burn at the backs of his irises, breathed through the tearing in two of his heart. He’d had to leave the cabin before he splintered right in front of her.
So what are you going to do, Raj? asked the part of him that had come here with the secret, beautiful dream of taking her home as his bride. Leave her? Try to find another wife?
Raj rose, shoved a hand through his hair. As if that was even an option. Nayna Sharma was his forever. No woman could make him so happy… or hurt him so badly. She was light and laughter and sinful smiles that held him captive. He couldn’t imagine doing with anyone else what he’d done in that cabin with her.
The idea of waking up next to her for a lifetime, it filled all the hollow places inside him.
But to Nayna, was he freedom and love and happiness… or was he a cage?
29
Nayna Sharma, the T-Shirt Thief
Nayna didn’t know what to do.
Her lower lip trembled every time she thought of Raj walking out.
Desperate not to be here when he returned in case he just picked up his bag and left—like she’d told him to—she cleaned herself up and put on a fresh pair of panties and her jeans, along with one of her own T-shirts. Raj’s T-shirt she folded and was about to put on the bed when she hesitated… and decided to hide it instead.
She didn’t care if it was pathetic; she needed a piece of him, needed his scent around her.
Lost afterward, she almost reached for her phone and called Ísa. But she wasn’t ready to talk about this, wasn’t ready to put this horrible sense of loss into words. Stuffing some money into her pocket, she walked out the door and toward Franz Josef town instead.
Sugar and carbs would help.
Wouldn’t they?
* * *
Raj returned to the cabin to find it empty. He wasn’t exactly surprised.
Leaving the cabin, he didn’t try to call Nayna but decided to walk into the town instead and see if he could spot her. While it wasn’t a tiny place, it was small enough that he could theoretically find her if he went in the right direction.
After reaching the edge of the commercial area, he saw that the restaurants and cafés were bustling. Plenty of people, most of them tourists and hikers. Way more people than he’d expected, but none of them a slender woman with sleek black hair and subtle curves, her eyes sparkling and her lips generous.
A moment’s thought before he went with his first instinct and aimed himself toward the bakery he’d seen as he drove in. Its sign—painted a bright pink—stood out against the dark green of the forest all around them. Nayna said he didn’t see her, didn’t know her, but Raj listened to everything she said—and the things she didn’t.
He found her seated outside, finishing off a mug of frothy chocolate. When he slid into the seat across from her, she gave him an unreadable look.
“So, when are you leaving?”
Raj’s gut clenched. “I’m not that easy to get rid of,” he said, ready to battle for her.
Lower lip quivering, she ducked her head and his heart, it kicked hard.
“Nayna, jaan.” Ignoring the others around them and driven by raw protectiveness, he moved faster than he’d ever before done. He hauled her up into his arms and cradled her tight, one of his hands cupping the back of her head and his other arm locking around her.
“Don’t cry. Please, Nayna. I’m sorry I left like that.” He’d apologize for anything she wanted if she’d just stop sobbing against him as if he’d walked on her heart with steel-toed boots. “I won’t ever do it again.” He’d been protecting himself, and in so doing, he’d hurt her. “I’ll stay and fight with you.”
A shuddering sniff, words mumbled out against his chest that he had no hope of understanding, she was still crying so much. Raj held her even tighter, shielding her from the curious gazes of others walking in or out of the bakery. It wasn’t too busy, but he didn’t like anyone seeing his tough Nayna brought down so low.
“I told you to go,” she said, and this time he heard. “I was being self-sacrificing.” A hiccup, more tears. “It was stupid.”
Wrecked though he was, he felt a smile burn to life on his lips. “You don’t want me to go?”
A fierce shake of her heard. “I want to keep you forever.”
With those words, she sealed the break in his heart, made it stronger than new. That was the only thing he’d ever needed from her. “Then we figure this out,” he rasped against her ear, stroking his hand over her hair. “We make it work. Our way. No one else’s.”
Another sniff, Nayna rubbing her face against his T-shirt. “I can’t walk through town like this.”
“Just tuck yourself against me. I’ll protect you.” Always he’d protect her.
* * *
Nayna’s ravaged face ripped at him when they reached the cabin.
She took one look at his own face and said, “One minute” in a voice that had gone husky as a result of the emotional storm.
A few steps and she closed the bathroom door behind herself.
When she emerged, he was seated in one of the lived-in armchairs in front of what looked to be a gas fireplace but might’ve been electrical. He hadn’t ever put in one of these models on a project, didn’t know the brand name. But he’d worked out how to turn it on, and it was running when Nayna stepped out of the bathroom, as, despite it being summer, the rainforest air was cool.
She’d washed her face, brushed her hair back, and looked bright-eyed.
For him. Because she’d seen what it was doing to him to watch her in distress.
Lifting an arm in invitation, Raj said, “Come here.”
She came, curling onto his lap, a small armful of woman who fit him perfectly. The fire crackled next to them in an excellent imitation of a wood-burning unit.
“This cabin is very well built,” he told her, finding his anchor in the familiar. “Look at how carefully the beams have been placed, the metal brackets they’ve used. It was done by a master carpenter on-site, not prefabricated in a warehouse somewhere.”
“I’ve been here over a week and I never noticed any of that,” Nayna murmured. “Tell me more of what you see.”
So he did, and she asked questions that told him she was really listening and appreciating his point of view. He’d never actually thought about the conversations they might have after marriage—when he’d been hell-bent on marriage—but he should have; Nayna was a white-collar professional, Raj a blue-collar tradesman at heart. He ran the family business, but his passion was in the work itself.
