Chapter 7 Deepak

Chapter 7 Deepak

Faking marriage as a non-Indian person would've required little to no effort on Deepak's part. But he was Indian, which meant that both he and Veera had a lot of cultural and religious ground to cover to make sure that their story

was believable.

With the hotel's support, they were able to stage wedding photos in designer bridal outfits. Because in their drunken haze

they had already purchased wedding bands and a red chuda bangle set, they didn't need much more jewelry other than Veera's

mangalsutra. After some debate and coaxing on his part to get her to spend his money, she'd chosen a simple black-and-gold

beaded necklace with three large solitaire diamonds in a grouping that rested against her collarbone. It replaced the beads

that the pandit had given Deepak to use during the ceremony. When Deepak helped her put it on for the first time in front

of the small oval table mirror in the jeweler's storefront, their eyes met and the reality of what they were doing slammed

into him like a semi.

They didn't talk about it after he finalized the purchase.

The night before they flew out, four mehndi women arrived at the suite to cover Veera's hands, arms, feet, and legs in intricate designs. They took pictures at every stage, documenting the entire process. Veera slept with the mehndi carefully covered and bandaged. When she woke in the morning, staff from the hotel arrived to help her remove the bandaging and rub an oil into her skin to preserve the color.

Now that they were on the plane headed toward New York, Deepak couldn't stop looking at the rich dark red mehndi on Veera's

hands as she twisted the champagne flute between her fingers. The designs swirled in paisleys and floral swoops from her fingertips

to the center of her forearm. The five-carat diamond ring that matched the solitaire shape of her mangalsutra necklace glittered

in the overhead light of the first-class cabin seat. They had a full-size flat-screen TV, two luxury recliner chairs, and

access to a full bar cart at their disposal, yet all he could focus on were her delicate hands with deep red staining all

of her fingertips.

Even now, he was so sure she was going to back out. With all the attention he knew that she didn't want, there was a very

real chance he would have a runaway wife on his hands.

Deepak leaned against the center armrest that divided their seats. "Are you okay?" he asked. "You've been gripping that same

champagne flute since we took off."

"You mean the one from the bottle that you conned our flight attendant into handing over?" Veera said blandly. "You don't

have to tell everyone that we're newlyweds who eloped in Goa, you know."

He grinned. "I don't have to, but it's good practice. And you and I both know that's not what's bothering you."

She shrugged, and it was such a soft, delicate familiar movement. "It's not. I was just thinking about how difficult it was

for me to say goodbye to Sana when she flew out to the UK."

Her twin. Deepak had watched the tearful farewell at the airport. Their bond was something he'd never understand.

"Haven't you been with her every day for like eight months?" he asked, as he leaned against the center console.

"Yeah," she replied. "But she's my sister. I'm still mad at her for pulling out of our business plan. I could've spend the

last eight months building a new career. But I'd rather be mad at her while she's... I don't know, with me." She twisted

the flute in her hand again, and her ring sparkled.

Deepak wanted to ask Veera about her plans for the business, but she was focused so intently on her drink. Three little lines

marred the center of her eyebrows as she turned to look out the small porthole to the night sky.

Every instinct in Deepak told him to loop an arm around her shoulders and pull her close. To press a kiss to the crown of

her head and tell her it was all going to be okay. As a friend, he wouldn't have hesitated to do just that, but now, things

were different.

Deepak had thought about her romantically once before early in their relationship. He'd quickly ignored his attraction when

she'd called him a friend out of respect for her feelings. Then, she had become his safe space, the person he turned to when

he needed help figuring out all the complicated details in his life. Before his engagement to Olivia, Veera was the person

he texted when he heard something funny, and she was the person he went to when he needed to rage about work. More importantly,

she was the one woman he'd wanted to spend all his time with.

Their friendship hadn't stopped him from noticing how beautiful she was. How her joy was guileless and gorgeous.

Their wedding was like a release valve, and now all he could think about was how he'd hurt Olivia and wasted time with Veera.

The only problem was Veera was definitely not on the same page as him. She'd kept her distance and was suspiciously quiet since they decided to follow through on their plan.

Which meant that he had to convince her that, together, they were a perfect fit. That their relationship could be more than

just a business arrangement.

Deepak tried to sniff her as discreetly as possible so he could get more of the soft sweetness of her hair. "Vee?"

"Mm-hmm?" she hummed absently as she adjusted the chuda on her wrist.

"I think we need to talk. Maybe we should establish some rules for our relationship."

Her eyes went wide, and she shifted in her seat so she could look at him. "Rules?"

"Rules," he said. He had to hold back his smile. "The last few days have been hectic, establishing our story, but when we

land, we should know exactly what we have to do to sell our romance to everyone in our lives."

"Okay," she said, shifting in her seat to increase the space between them. "That makes sense. Should I take notes?"

An image of Veera sitting on his desk with a notepad flashed in his mind. She had a habit of chewing on the cap of her pen

and tilting her head, which exposed the long line of her neck. What if she took notes behind his desk? Would she put her heeled

feet on his desk pad, and—

Nope, no, he was not having his first real dirty fantasy when there was nowhere to hide.

"I think we can just talk," he said, as he shifted in his seat.

"Okay." She lifted the flute to her lips again and drained the glass. When she put it back on the tray, she turned to him,

her expression serious. "Where should we start?"

"With our housing situation."

Surprise lit her eyes. "I sublet my apartment and was planning on renting something until the sublet was over."

"We're married now, remember?" he said. "The expectation is that we live together. My town house is huge. If you want your

own space, you can have the entire guest floor to yourself. I rarely go up there."

Her expression went dreamy. "I really do love your house," she said.

"You do?"

"Of course," she said, then sighed.

He'd never thought of his town house as anything but a place to sleep, but he remembered the first time she'd come over for

a movie night.

Deeps, this is where you live? Why have we been bumming around the city in lecture halls and restaurants when we could've

done takeout and Lord of the Rings on your big cushy couch?

He smiled at the memory, his fingers automatically crossing the space between them to touch her red chuda. When she shifted

restlessly, he pulled away, curling his fingers into a fist. "If you like my house, then you should move in," he said.

"Fine, but I should pay rent. This is still a fake marriage."

Deepak bit back a smile. "The house is completely paid for. I'm not going to take your money."

"I can cook?"

"I have meals delivered on a schedule."

"Okay, what about keeping the space clean? I know you're a neat freak."

"And I know you don't have it in you to keep a place clean," he retorted.

"Hey!"

"Veera, I've seen your apartment, remember? Your shit is everywhere. Don't worry about it, I have a cleaner, too."

She pursed her lips, and his gaze zeroed in on her nude-colored lips coated in a thin layer of gloss. He wondered what it

would be like to kiss her. He was attracted to her, but did they have physical chemistry?

"Kissing," he blurted out. "Uh, public affection."

Veera smirked. The soft tension in her seemed to melt from her slender frame. "Kissing? Really? Deepak, we're Indian."

"Yeah?"

She motioned toward him with a wave of her hand. "So kissing is the last thing that anyone is going to expect from us in public."

"Okay, but I am in the news all the time. What if we have to really sell it that we're physically intimate?"

"Yeah, I don't think that's necessary," she said.

"We don't want to be taken off guard, do we?" he replied smoothly. "We have to consider all scenarios here, Veera."

Her fingers twisted together, and he watched as the mehndi designs flexed. "Fine, I guess we can kiss in public."

Deepak knew he was pushing his luck, but he had to know. "We should practice."

Veera gaped at him, then she let out a snort, and a high-pitched giggle.

"Okay, not the reaction I was expecting."

"How did you think I would react when you said that we should practice ?" Veera replied. Her giggle morphed into a laugh, and for the first time since he'd landed in Goa and seen her again, she

had uninhibited joy in her eyes. His stomach clenched at how beautiful she looked when she smiled. Had he always taken her

for granted? Taken their relationship for granted? He'd been such a fool.

"Look, it's probably been a while since either of us have had a proper kiss," he started.

"Speak for yourself," Veera said.

"Wait... who have you been kissing?" Deepak said. Of course, she would have had every opportunity, but that didn't mean

he liked it. Did she see someone regularly? He bet whoever had the privilege of touching her didn't know what they were doing.

They probably said they were six feet in their dating profiles, but they were four inches shorter in reality. They were most

likely a podcaster, too.

His stomach turned as his imagination ran wild. How could Veera even consider dating a podcaster?

Veera patted him on the arm as if she knew exactly what she was doing to him. "I was too busy trying to convince people to

give me their money to kiss anyone. But kissing is like riding a bike. A little wobbly at first, but we'll be fine."

"Oh, I mean if you're bad at it, you can just say so..."

Veera gaped at him. "I'm not a bad kisser," she said. "I'm a great kisser. I mean, I've never had any complaints."

"Neither have I."

She gave him a bland look. "Do we need to pull up Olivia's video again?"

"Ouch, but fair. Look, all I'm saying is that we shouldn't have our first kiss in public. That's a recipe for disaster. People

will definitely question us."

Veera rolled her eyes, then drained her champagne glass, and put it on the small ledge next to the TV where it was out of

her way.

Before Deepak realized what she was going to do, Veera gripped his head between her palms, pulled him forward, and planted

a kiss directly on his mouth. She made a loud smacking sound, and then let him go.

He fell back in his seat and burst out laughing. Even though the wonderful, tingling feel of her mouth on his had his heartbeat thumping faster in his chest, the quick, brazen move was so out of character for Veera. She delighted him.

"There, now we've kissed," she said. She brushed her hands against her thighs and went to settle back down in her chair. He

heard the slight hitch in her breath and saw the rise and fall of her shoulders.

"Not so fast," he said. He gripped her arm and tugged her out of her seat until she tumbled into his lap.

Before she could say another word, he cupped the back of her neck and pulled her forward until her mouth landed on his. This

time the kiss wasn't playful and friendly. His eyes drifted shut as his mouth fit against hers like a perfect puzzle piece

snapping into place. Her lips parted in surprise, and he opened with her. When her tongue grazed his, he heard the softest,

sweetest, most delicious sound and swallowed it.

Oh god.

The earthy scent of her mehndi-stained hands cupped his face as he gripped her thigh and shifted her closer. Their mouths

slanted over each other and Deepak was consumed by her. Then her fingers sunk in his hair, and he urged her to open for him

again by pressing a thumb against her chin. When she gasped at the focused, firm brush of his tongue, he stopped and pulled

back. Their eyes met, and hers went wide as she realized their predicament. Their breaths were shallow as she leaned against

him, and his hand clenched on her inner thigh.

Wow. Just... wow .

When Veera climbed off his lap, she nearly banged her head against the ceiling of the plane and stumbled back into her seat

just as someone knocked on the door of their cabin.

"Come in," he said after shifting to adjust his dick.

The flight attendant opened the door and smiled at both of them. "It's our newlyweds! I'm so sorry to disturb you, but would

you like to order dinner?"

"Can we get a minute?" Veera said, her voice a bit thready. "I just finished the delicious champagne you sent over, and I

haven't looked at the menu. I'm so sorry about that, Lisa."

Their flight attendant smiled. "That's no problem at all, Mrs. Datta. I'll come back in a few moments."

When the cabin door closed again, Deepak smiled at her, praying that his voice sounded normal. "Mrs. Datta. It has a nice

ring to it, don't you think?"

Veera's eyes narrowed on him. "You kissed me."

"I did."

"Like really kissed me."

"Yup." He couldn't keep the satisfaction from his voice. "Now if we do it in public, we'll know what to expect, right?"

There was something about the way that Veera watched him that had him shifting in his seat again. It was a mix of heat and

something dangerous.

"Look, if you'd like to try it again until you're comfortable—"

"No, thank you," she said. Then she tried to remove the menu from the small card slot against the wall. Her fingers trembled

so it took her a few tries before she was able to yank it free. "It's not like it was special enough for a repeat or anything."

Then she turned away from him and busied herself with the dessert list.

Deepak could only laugh again, and despite all the chaos that awaited them back in the states, he was so happy to have Veera

at his side.

"You're a brat, you know that?" he said, as he retrieved his own menu.

"Thank you," she said primly. Then she tapped him on the arm. Her bangles clinked with a musical chime. "Hey, their TV has

all the Lord of the Rings movies."

"I'll watch if we skip The Hobbit ," he replied. "The last time you made me sit through that one, you wouldn't stop comparing it to the book."

Veera gaped at him. "That was almost two years ago! You still remember that?"

"Our first movie marathon? How could I not?"

"Fine," she said. "No Hobbit . But it feels wrong, Deepak."

"Pretend you've already watched it, and you'll be fine."

At that moment, Lisa returned to take their order. Then as Veera settled in, Deepak enjoyed the movement of her bridal mehndi

hands, the wedding ring that sparkled, and the relaxed smile on her face for Legolas. For the first time in way too long,

they slipped into their familiar companionship that had become an important part of his heart.

The rest of their complicated relationship could wait for New York.