Chapter 30: 30. Wits and hearts

The moment our lips parted, I saw the dazed look in Mayura's eyes. A sense of satisfaction settled deep within me. But as her gaze cleared, a flicker of defiance replaced the vulnerability.

She stepped back, straightening her clothes with a huff, and I couldn’t help but smirk. Her flushed cheeks and swollen lips were proof enough of the effect I had on her, but I knew my feisty wife wouldn’t let me off so easily.

“Do you always solve problems by kissing people?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, one eyebrow arched in mock seriousness.

I chuckled, stepping closer, forcing her to tilt her head up to meet my gaze. “Only when my wife tries to say foolish things like I deserve better than her.”

She rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed with my reasoning. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I’m your impossible husband,” I corrected, leaning down to nuzzle her neck where I had left my mark. She shivered under my touch, but I noticed how she tried to suppress it.

“You think you're so smooth, don't you?” she teased, pushing at my chest lightly, though her fingers lingered on my shirt, betraying her own desire.

“Smooth enough to make you forget what you were about to say,” I murmured against her skin, my lips brushing over the mark I had left earlier.

She let out a small laugh, the sound melodic and light, filling the room with warmth. “Don’t get too full of yourself, Mr. Shekhawat. You may have won this round, but the game is far from over.”

“Oh? Are we playing a game, Mrs. Shekhawat?” I asked, genuinely curious about what she had in mind. My fingers trailed down her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

She stepped back, giving me a mischievous grin that made my heart skip a beat. “Maybe. And you’re not as invincible as you think.”

I watched her as she walked over to the small sofa in the corner of the room, sitting down with a dramatic sigh. She patted the spot next to her, beckoning me over. “Come on, Abhimaan, let’s see how well you do without the kissing.”

Intrigued, I joined her, my eyes locked on hers as I sat down. “What’s the challenge, Jaana?”

She tapped her chin thoughtfully, pretending to consider her options. “Let’s see… how about we talk about your infamous ‘grumpy morning’ routine? I bet you can’t go a day without frowning before breakfast.”

I raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at my lips. “You think you can make me smile first thing in the morning? That’s a tall order, even for you.”

“Challenge accepted,” she declared with mock seriousness, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I’m going to make you smile so much, you’ll forget what it’s like to be grumpy.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. “And what’s your plan, Jaana? You’ve already got me curious.”

She leaned in closer, her lips dangerously close to mine, but just out of reach. “Oh, I have my ways. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Her playful tone and teasing smile were enough to make me chuckle. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Mayura.”

She laughed, leaning back and giving me a smug look. “You’re the one who started it, Abhimaan. Now, you’ll have to deal with the consequences.”

I shook my head, amused by her audacity. But the truth was, I loved this side of her. The fire, the wit, the way she challenged me—it all made her even more irresistible.

“What’s the consequence if I lose?” I asked, intrigued by where she was going with this.

She tilted her head, pretending to think. “Hmm… if you lose, you have to do something fun with me. Something you wouldn’t normally do.”

I raised an eyebrow, curious. “Like what?”

She grinned, leaning closer again, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Like dancing with me. In the rain.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the request. Dancing? In the rain? It was something I hadn’t done since I was a kid. But the thought of doing it with her, of seeing her twirl and laugh in the rain, was oddly appealing.

“Deal,” I agreed, unable to resist her charm.

She looked pleased with herself, clearly proud of her victory. “Great! And if you win… well, I’ll let you decide.”

I smiled, leaning closer until our noses nearly touched. “If I win, you’ll have to admit that you’re the lucky one for having me as your husband.”

She laughed, the sound filling the room with warmth. “Deal. But don’t get your hopes up, Abhimaan. I’m very good at making people smile.”

We sat there, close enough to feel each other’s warmth, and for a moment, the world outside didn’t matter. It was just us, in our little bubble of teasing and laughter.

But the moment was interrupted when she suddenly shifted, turning serious. “Abhimaan, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

I leaned back slightly, giving her the space she needed. “What is it, Jaana?”

She hesitated for a moment, biting her lower lip—an action that didn’t go unnoticed by me. “Why do you act so tough all the time? I mean, I get it, you’re a king and all, but… you’re different when we’re alone. Why?”

I was taken aback by her question. I wasn’t used to anyone digging this deep into my thoughts and emotions. But with her, I felt a strange urge to be honest.

“I suppose it’s because… I’ve always had to be tough. To protect myself, to protect those I care about. But with you…” I trailed off, searching for the right words.

“With me?” she prompted, her eyes softening.

“With you, I don’t feel the need to keep my guard up all the time,” I admitted, my voice low. “You make me want to let go, to just be… me.”

Her gaze softened even more, and she reached out to take my hand, intertwining our fingers. “I like that side of you, Abhimaan. The real you.”

I squeezed her hand, feeling an unfamiliar warmth in my chest. “And I like you, Jaana. Just the way you are.”

For a moment, we just sat there, holding hands, the silence between us was comfortable and warm. I could feel the bond between us growing stronger, and I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together.

But then, she pulled away slightly, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes. “By the way, you still owe me that dance in the rain.”

I chuckled, shaking my head in amusement. “You haven’t won yet, Jaana.”

“Oh, I will,” she said confidently, her smile infectious. “Just you wait.”

And as I looked at her, I realized that I didn’t mind losing. Not if it meant seeing her smile like that, full of joy and mischief. Because in the end, being with her, laughing and teasing, was worth more than any victory.

And maybe, just maybe, I was starting to understand what it meant to truly be happy.