Raj bracketed her feet between his sprawled-out legs. “After what you did to me in that cabin, Nayna with the sundar nayna, it can be whatever you like.” He was no poet, but she gave a delighted smile at his play on the meaning of her name.
“No one’s ever said I had pretty eyes before.” She batted her lashes.
“I think you mean ‘fine eyes.’”
Her smile turned into a grin at his reference to her favorite book, but their server returned right then with their drinks, and the next minute or two was taken up with getting the drinks placed on the table and taking sips.
“Raj.” Nayna’s tone had become solemn. “If you support me in moving out, it’ll turn my parents against you.” A hard swallow. “They love you right now.”
“Let me deal with that.” Raj had taken on tougher opponents than Shilpa and Gaurav Sharma—and his priority was Nayna. “The most important thing is to make sure you come out of this unscathed.”
Nayna’s face fell. “Never going to happen.” Raw words, not the least bit flippant.
Because Nayna Sharma loved deeply and unconditionally.
Raj wanted that fierce force of love in his life, wanted to be able to take it for granted. Not as her family did, abusing her generous nature. But in a way that was his anchor. Never worrying, because it was a constant.
Until then, until she trusted him enough to give him her heart, he’d hold her declaration about wanting to keep him always, at the surface of his thoughts. No old demons would get between him and Nayna; Raj wouldn’t allow it.
“My father will never forgive me for disrupting his plans,” Nayna added. “And my mother… she’s his wife. She’s always stood with him.” A deep breath. “Aji will stay in touch, I’m sure.” She gave a shaky smile. “She’s having a love affair of her own.”
Raj tried to imagine the pure-Hindi-speaking, white-sari-clad elderly lady he’d met having a love affair and hit a mental blank. Until he thought of what Nayna might be like at that age, and suddenly it wasn’t such a hard thing to visualize. Because Nayna would still be as lovely, as brilliant.
“The first thing we have to do is find you a place,” he said as their fish and chips arrived on the table.
* * *
However, getting into an apartment proved easier said than done. The rental market in Auckland was well beyond capacity. Laptop open in front of her as she sat in bed after dinner, Nayna called up landlord after landlord, only to be told there was already a waiting list for the advertised rentals.
Raj, who’d slipped down to lie on his back with one arm bent behind his head and his eyes on the screen of her laptop, frowned. “That’s too far out,” he said when she pulled up another listing. “It’d add two hours to your commute every day.”
“A long commute might be the only realistic option.”
Raj was silent for a minute before saying, “I have an idea.” After asking her to pass him his phone, which he’d left on the bedside table beside her, he called a number and said, “Ping, how’re you doing?”
Nayna listened as he asked the other man about a property that Ping had been rehabbing. “Is it ready for a tenant?” He listened while his friend spoke. “Yeah, I’ll vouch for her,” he said after about thirty seconds. “That’s all?” Another pause. “You give her the place and I’ll finish up the job for you at no cost.”
The deal was done two minutes later.
Hanging up, Raj said, “You have a one-bedroom unit in Epsom. Two-story place, internal garage below, everything else above. Entire complex only has eight units overall, most of them occupier-owned, and the landscaping is neat and easy-care. Good-sized lounge, tiny kitchen, approximately a ten-minute drive to your office.”
Nayna’s mouth was dry, her pulse skittering. “What did you promise your friend?”
“Nothing major.” He put the phone down on the bedside table on his side. “The deck’s unfinished. I can polish off the job on the weekend. Officially, you won’t be on the rental agreement until that deck is finished, but the house is safe and sound and warm, and Ping’s a professional. You won’t have to worry about a creepy landlord.”
Nayna put down the laptop. “I’m doing this,” she whispered, the reality of it coming down on her head like a ton of bricks.
It was time to see the sword fall.
* * *
Raj watched Nayna sleep that night and knew he might be the architect of his own heartbreak. The Nayna she was now wanted him, but the Nayna she became as she found her wings… that Nayna might decide a man so rooted in tradition and culture wasn’t the man she wanted by her side.
It was possible that she might never fully trust such a man not to turn on her with rules and boundaries and demands that stifled her spirit. Nayna was a woman heading off into the unknown, excited and invigorated by what she might discover… while Raj needed roots, needed an unbroken line from the past to the future.
His chest ached, but he could no more stop helping her fly than he could stop breathing. “I love you, Nayna Sharma,” he whispered, the words a secret he couldn’t say to her when she was awake.
It would be another kind of pressure.
Nayna knew his deepest hurts, and it would go against every part of her nature to scar him any further. Her heart was too soft, her ability to be loyal too powerful. But even worse than Nayna flying away from him would be a Nayna who stayed only because of a sense of obligation and friendship.
So he would tell her of his love only in the midnight hours, when she slept in his arms. He’d help her fly… and hope she’d choose to fly to him.
31
Wedding Bells Ringing
Raj drove Nayna home.
He’d left his truck parked at the airport, and after they landed in Auckland around eight at night, he dumped both their bags in the back seat, then opened the passenger door for her. But before she could get in, he gripped her jaw and initiated a deeply demanding kiss that held all the need he couldn’t show her, all the hopes he had to keep under lock and key.
“Now,” he said afterward, “let’s go pretend we spent the time talking.”
She cradled his jaw in one hand, his stubble now more into scruff territory. “I’m so glad you’re mine,” she whispered and made the knot of tension inside him unravel a fraction.
Just enough that he could smile and say, “Me and my abs?”
“Well, duh.” Laughing, she pushed playfully at his chest before getting up into the passenger seat.
Raj closed the door and jogged around to get into the driver’s seat—and tried not to imagine what it might be like to do things like this with her every day. Shared rides, casual errands, quick trips. Sweet domesticity was his dream, not Nayna’s.
“Rock music okay?” he asked when his usual station came on after he started the engine.
She pretended to play air-guitar before launching into the rock ballad currently playing. Grinning, Raj joined in, and the two of them treated the truck as their own private karaoke studio until he turned into the street on which the Sharmas had their home.
Suddenly Nayna’s song cut off. She hugged her arms around herself. “How am I going to do this?” she whispered. “It’ll break their hearts.”
Raj ran the back of his hand over her cheek. “We’ll do it together.”
“No one’s ever said I had pretty eyes before.” She batted her lashes.
“I think you mean ‘fine eyes.’”
Her smile turned into a grin at his reference to her favorite book, but their server returned right then with their drinks, and the next minute or two was taken up with getting the drinks placed on the table and taking sips.
“Raj.” Nayna’s tone had become solemn. “If you support me in moving out, it’ll turn my parents against you.” A hard swallow. “They love you right now.”
“Let me deal with that.” Raj had taken on tougher opponents than Shilpa and Gaurav Sharma—and his priority was Nayna. “The most important thing is to make sure you come out of this unscathed.”
Nayna’s face fell. “Never going to happen.” Raw words, not the least bit flippant.
Because Nayna Sharma loved deeply and unconditionally.
Raj wanted that fierce force of love in his life, wanted to be able to take it for granted. Not as her family did, abusing her generous nature. But in a way that was his anchor. Never worrying, because it was a constant.
Until then, until she trusted him enough to give him her heart, he’d hold her declaration about wanting to keep him always, at the surface of his thoughts. No old demons would get between him and Nayna; Raj wouldn’t allow it.
“My father will never forgive me for disrupting his plans,” Nayna added. “And my mother… she’s his wife. She’s always stood with him.” A deep breath. “Aji will stay in touch, I’m sure.” She gave a shaky smile. “She’s having a love affair of her own.”
Raj tried to imagine the pure-Hindi-speaking, white-sari-clad elderly lady he’d met having a love affair and hit a mental blank. Until he thought of what Nayna might be like at that age, and suddenly it wasn’t such a hard thing to visualize. Because Nayna would still be as lovely, as brilliant.
“The first thing we have to do is find you a place,” he said as their fish and chips arrived on the table.
* * *
However, getting into an apartment proved easier said than done. The rental market in Auckland was well beyond capacity. Laptop open in front of her as she sat in bed after dinner, Nayna called up landlord after landlord, only to be told there was already a waiting list for the advertised rentals.
Raj, who’d slipped down to lie on his back with one arm bent behind his head and his eyes on the screen of her laptop, frowned. “That’s too far out,” he said when she pulled up another listing. “It’d add two hours to your commute every day.”
“A long commute might be the only realistic option.”
Raj was silent for a minute before saying, “I have an idea.” After asking her to pass him his phone, which he’d left on the bedside table beside her, he called a number and said, “Ping, how’re you doing?”
Nayna listened as he asked the other man about a property that Ping had been rehabbing. “Is it ready for a tenant?” He listened while his friend spoke. “Yeah, I’ll vouch for her,” he said after about thirty seconds. “That’s all?” Another pause. “You give her the place and I’ll finish up the job for you at no cost.”
The deal was done two minutes later.
Hanging up, Raj said, “You have a one-bedroom unit in Epsom. Two-story place, internal garage below, everything else above. Entire complex only has eight units overall, most of them occupier-owned, and the landscaping is neat and easy-care. Good-sized lounge, tiny kitchen, approximately a ten-minute drive to your office.”
Nayna’s mouth was dry, her pulse skittering. “What did you promise your friend?”
“Nothing major.” He put the phone down on the bedside table on his side. “The deck’s unfinished. I can polish off the job on the weekend. Officially, you won’t be on the rental agreement until that deck is finished, but the house is safe and sound and warm, and Ping’s a professional. You won’t have to worry about a creepy landlord.”
Nayna put down the laptop. “I’m doing this,” she whispered, the reality of it coming down on her head like a ton of bricks.
It was time to see the sword fall.
* * *
Raj watched Nayna sleep that night and knew he might be the architect of his own heartbreak. The Nayna she was now wanted him, but the Nayna she became as she found her wings… that Nayna might decide a man so rooted in tradition and culture wasn’t the man she wanted by her side.
It was possible that she might never fully trust such a man not to turn on her with rules and boundaries and demands that stifled her spirit. Nayna was a woman heading off into the unknown, excited and invigorated by what she might discover… while Raj needed roots, needed an unbroken line from the past to the future.
His chest ached, but he could no more stop helping her fly than he could stop breathing. “I love you, Nayna Sharma,” he whispered, the words a secret he couldn’t say to her when she was awake.
It would be another kind of pressure.
Nayna knew his deepest hurts, and it would go against every part of her nature to scar him any further. Her heart was too soft, her ability to be loyal too powerful. But even worse than Nayna flying away from him would be a Nayna who stayed only because of a sense of obligation and friendship.
So he would tell her of his love only in the midnight hours, when she slept in his arms. He’d help her fly… and hope she’d choose to fly to him.
31
Wedding Bells Ringing
Raj drove Nayna home.
He’d left his truck parked at the airport, and after they landed in Auckland around eight at night, he dumped both their bags in the back seat, then opened the passenger door for her. But before she could get in, he gripped her jaw and initiated a deeply demanding kiss that held all the need he couldn’t show her, all the hopes he had to keep under lock and key.
“Now,” he said afterward, “let’s go pretend we spent the time talking.”
She cradled his jaw in one hand, his stubble now more into scruff territory. “I’m so glad you’re mine,” she whispered and made the knot of tension inside him unravel a fraction.
Just enough that he could smile and say, “Me and my abs?”
“Well, duh.” Laughing, she pushed playfully at his chest before getting up into the passenger seat.
Raj closed the door and jogged around to get into the driver’s seat—and tried not to imagine what it might be like to do things like this with her every day. Shared rides, casual errands, quick trips. Sweet domesticity was his dream, not Nayna’s.
“Rock music okay?” he asked when his usual station came on after he started the engine.
She pretended to play air-guitar before launching into the rock ballad currently playing. Grinning, Raj joined in, and the two of them treated the truck as their own private karaoke studio until he turned into the street on which the Sharmas had their home.
Suddenly Nayna’s song cut off. She hugged her arms around herself. “How am I going to do this?” she whispered. “It’ll break their hearts.”
Raj ran the back of his hand over her cheek. “We’ll do it together.”
