Rebel Hard (Hard Play #2)

by Nalini Singh

  “Look at this,” Shilpa Sharma had said when she got a message about one of the never-marrieds. “He’s a real estate man, owns that big apartment complex out by where Mina mausi lives.”

  Madhuri had been intrigued. “He must be loaded.”

  “Yes, but he’s also older than your father,” their mother had said, waving her hand. “Why do these wrinkly old men think they can get the pretty girls?”

  “Um, have you seen Nita’s husband?” Nayna had pointed out.

  Their mother had shuddered. “He’s going to be dead before she has her first child.”

  “I don’t think that’s in Nita’s plans.” Madhuri’s silky voice. “She’s waiting for him to pop off so she can live the high life with a stud.”

  Laughing at the wickedness of Madhuri’s words, Shilpa Sharma had moved on to the next offer. “You should go for this Rohan boy instead. The electrician with his own company. Electricians make good money—we had to pay five hundred dollars that time we had the problem! And he’s young and fit.”

  Madhuri, of course, was taking none of the offers seriously—and somehow getting away with it. Every time their parents began to push, she’d say she didn’t intend to be a two-time divorcée and planned to take her time choosing the right groom. “Don’t tell Ma and Dad,” she whispered now before turning her phone around so that Nayna could look at the photograph on it. “His name is Bailey.”

  Bailey was a surfer dude, complete with a surfboard under his arm and beach-blond hair. His smile was toothpaste white, his skin like a baby’s bottom. “How old is he?” Nayna asked. “Five?”

  Madhuri giggled. “Twenty-one,” she said. “I’m the sophisticated older woman who’s teaching him the ways of the world.”

  Nayna’s lips twitched. She had to hand it to her sister—Madhuri knew how to live life. “I’m guessing this one isn’t long term?” she said, taking in the pretty cottage behind Bailey the Surfer. It had a name—inscribed on the plaque beside Bailey’s right shoulder: Seagrass.

  Madhuri gave a liquid shrug. “Who knows? We’re having fun right now.” Shimmying around the kitchen, she added, “Lots and lots of fun.”

  “When did you go to this cottage? It’s pretty.”

  “Been there a couple of times now. Last was a month ago.”

  Nayna happened to glance out the window as Madhuri went to reply to Bailey’s message, and caught sight of Aji and Mr. Hohepa sneaking off with Pixie as their tail-wagging third. No doubt for a “walk.” Turning back on a surge of inexplicable emotion that built inside her like a wave an inch away from breaking, she caught Madhuri’s expression. “Don’t look at Bailey’s messages around the folks. You have the sex face on.”

  “I can’t help it. He makes me want to strip off my panties and do a pole dance.” Her phone beeped again before Nayna could respond.

  Leaving her sister to answer it, Nayna walked outside—to see that Raj had already beaten her there. He must’ve gone out the front door and walked back around the side of the house—as if he’d left to grab something from his truck.

  He glanced over when she exited the house, his dark gaze intent. When he raised an eyebrow in a silent question, Nayna wondered what her face betrayed. She shook her head, then carried on doing the small things that needed to be done to make sure this entire thing went off smoothly. It gave her a place for her hands, a way to settle the churning confusion that boiled within.

  But she couldn’t shut out how well her parents were getting along with Raj’s. The four of them were laughing together with an ease that said they were becoming fast friends. And with each burst of laughter, Nayna felt the chains tighten even further. Everything was being put into place, all the pieces slotting in.

  Her agreement was just a formality.

  * * *

  Raj could feel something was seriously wrong, but he couldn’t pin Nayna down long enough to figure out what. He was good at fixing things—but he couldn’t fix what he didn’t know was broken. He’d thought they were doing okay when she’d kissed him so passionately, but things had changed by the time he finally trapped her alone against the side of the house out of sight of their families. He couldn’t read her at all.

  “Less than a minute to go,” he said, determined to get to the root of this, determined to fight for his Nayna.

  Her fingers brushing over the smooth line of his jaw. “I miss the stubble.”

  Rubbing his jaw against her palm, he said, “It’s growing already.”

  No smile, her eyes haunted when they met his. “How long do we have?”

  “Long enough to kiss at midnight.” Aditi was the official timekeeper, and he’d asked her to start the countdown two minutes late; his baby sister had been delighted to be part of the intrigue.

  “If someone sets off fireworks at midnight,” she’d whispered, “I’ll say they’re jumping the gun.”

  Bracing his body even more firmly into Nayna, holding her in the only way she’d let him, Raj said, “Why that look? Are you worried about our parents making plans?” He knew that was part of it, but not all. “I’ll handle that. No one will push you into anything until you’re ready.”

  He’d made a mistake in declaring his hand; he’d thought it would ease the obstacles in their path, the two of them no longer watched so closely, but all it had done was scare her. “I’ll fix it,” he promised her. “Let me.”

  No answer from Nayna.

  Sliding her hand to the back of his neck, she rose on tiptoe. “Hurry,” she whispered. “According to my watch, it’s three seconds to midnight.”

  Feeling as if she was water slipping out between his fingers, he kissed her with all the need in his heart, wrapping her in his arms and lifting her off her feet as the sky above them burst with fireworks set off by others in the street.

  A new year had begun, but the shadows of the past haunted them both.

  22

  The Role of the Dastardly Villain Is Now Taken

  Nayna expected to dream of Raj, her body ached so for him, even as confusion tangled her in a thousand knots. But when she did slip into sleep, she didn’t dream sexy, frustrating dreams about a certain hot man in construction. She dreamed of waking in darkness. Heart skittering and breath jagged, she began to walk with her hands outstretched, searching.

  Her palms hit a wall.

  She followed it, running now, only to hit an edge and another wall. Again and again.

  Trapped. She was trapped in a box without light. And now the air was going.

  Clutching at her chest, she continued to run, continued to search, but there was no way out and she was suffocating and she couldn’t breathe and—

  Nayna jerked awake, her heart thumping a million miles an hour and her breath coming in harsh pants. She stared at the door she’d closed before she went to bed and her pulse spiked again. She barely stopped herself from getting up and wrenching it open.

  That wouldn’t solve the problem.

  Throat dry, she grabbed the bottle of water she kept on the bedside table and took a long gulp. Then she sat there and thought of that dark, airless room where she’d been trapped. Her skin grew taut and pinched as her breath began to turn shallow.

  No, this wasn’t good.

  Even the gorgeous photos that Raj kept sending her couldn’t help. Nayna’s memory of warmth and safety when he held her in his arms didn’t help. But she couldn’t say no when he asked her if she’d meet him at a café the day after the new year: My brother and sister-in-law would like to say hello. But Nayna, if you’re not comfortable, I’ll put them off.

  Her throat got all tight, her eyes burning.

  I’ll be there, she wrote back, because he was wonderful and siblings were different from parents.

  She didn’t mention why she was going out when she left the house that afternoon, in no mood for the questions and speculation. When she arrived at the café, she found Raj waiting outside for her. He looked good enough to eat in those well-loved jeans he’d worn to the party, work
boots, and a gray T-shirt that hugged his pecs.

  He cupped her cheek with one hand when she reached him. “Thank you for coming.” Such serious words.

  “It’s important to you.” And he was becoming terrifyingly important to her.

  A brush of his thumb over her cheekbone, his gaze potent and unreadable. “Navin and Komal have grabbed a table inside.” Pulling open the door of the café, he placed his other hand on her lower back as they walked to the counter and ordered before joining his brother and sister-in-law.

  Navin Sen was more slender than his brother and had a bit more curl in his hair as well as a pristinely clipped goatee. His smile was wide when he extended his hand toward Nayna. “It’s nice to meet you at last.”

  “Same,” Nayna said, with a smile aimed at both him and his wife.

  Komal Sen was… glossy. That was the perfect word. Lovely round face, pouty lips painted to perfection, sleek and shiny hair expertly colored in shades of bronze and brown. Her red dress fit like a glove when she rose to her feet and gave Nayna an air-kiss, and she had Madhuri’s kind of curves.

  She engaged with the men like Madhuri too, flirtatious with Raj without crossing the line—though from their body language, she seemed to be having a tiff with her husband. The giggles and admiring glances were all shot Raj’s way, the curled lip and snarky comments her husband’s. Komal’s behavior would’ve been off-putting to many women, but Nayna had grown up with Madhuri.

  Compared to Nayna’s sister, Komal was a novice when it came to capturing male attention. Nayna found her familiar in a way, and that relaxed her. “How was the party?” she asked after their drinks came.

  “Oh, fantastic!” Komal stirred sugar into her coffee. “I danced my feet off.”

  A tension at the corners of Navin’s mouth that told Nayna his wife hadn’t been dancing with him. She shot Raj a quick glance, not about to touch that with a barge pole. He gave the slightest shake of his head.

  Taking the cue, she ignored the mounting evidence of marital discord as they continued to talk. Raj had his arm along the back of her chair again, his fingers occasionally brushing her upper arm, and Nayna didn’t want to be anywhere else. For a short while, she felt only like a young woman out with her man, the two of them getting to know each other.

  No expectations.

  No burden of tradition.

  No tacit road for them to walk.

  “Excuse me for a minute.” Rising, Navin headed off toward the restrooms.

  Raj’s phone went seconds later. “It’s a client,” he said after a glance. “I’ll try to make it quick.” A brush of his hand over her ponytail before he stepped outside to take the call.

  “Nice to see Raj find someone.” Komal’s voice dragged her back.

  Nayna told herself she was imagining the sudden razored edge in it. “He’s an amazing man.”

  “Yeah, I chose the wrong brother.”

  Ohh-kay, now they were in incendiary territory.

  Nayna took a sip of her mocha, mentally telling both men to hurry up.

  “But wow, pretty big sacrifice for you to give up your career after all that work,” Komal murmured after another sip of her latte.

  Nayna frowned. “Excuse me?”

  Tilting her head to the side, Komal blinked innocently. “Oh, didn’t Raj tell you?” Syrupy voice, but the nastiness was there in the tilt of her lips. “Navin says his brother’s always been open about wanting the full traditional deal. Wife at home cooking the rotis and looking after the kiddies, man working.”

  Churning in Nayna’s gut. “There’s nothing wrong with that,” she said, not about to let this woman judge Raj; Nayna understood where his desires had been born, why that was his dream.

  “Oh Lord, no,” Komal gushed. “If Navin earned enough to keep me at home, I’d jump at the chance to join the ladies-who-lunch set. Not sure about the kids though. Raj wants them while he’s young, and I prefer keeping my figure.”

  Oh, thank God.

  “I wonder if they sell this coffee by the bag?” Navin said, sliding back into his seat. “It’s pretty good.”

  Raj returned a minute later, and the rest of the conversation was innocuous enough. However, by the end of it, when Nayna was alone with Raj again, she felt no compunction at all in saying, “Your sister-in-law is not a nice woman.” Bitch was the word that fit. Nayna never used that word lightly, but Komal had gone out of her way to discomfort her husband, and her digs at Nayna had been subtle but pointed.

  Whatever her issue was, it didn’t excuse her behavior. The way she was going, she could stand in for the melodramatic “evil sister-in-law” on that soap opera. All she needed to do was stand around reciting her nefarious plans aloud while ominous music built to a crescendo in the background. And the irony of her name being Komal—which meant soft, delicate—was just the icing on the cake.

  “No, Komal can be difficult.” Raj walked with her out of the café. “But she’s Navin’s wife, and my brother isn’t innocent in the problems between them—but those problems aren’t ours.” Wrapping one arm around her shoulder, he said, “Want to walk a little? There are a few construction projects going on around here. Competitors.”

  Nayna slid her arm around his waist and decided to live in the dream. “Yes. Let’s go spy on them.”

  The two of them had far too much fun over the next two hours, with Raj grumbling about how he could’ve done a better job on the various projects and Nayna playfully saying, “I know, honey” until he kissed her smiling mouth. He was scowling at her teasing, and his stubble prickled, and it was wonderful.

  But she had to know if Komal had been telling the truth. The other woman had been attempting to stir trouble, no doubt about that. Which was why Nayna wasn’t about to make any assumptions until she had an answer direct from the source. “Raj, did you dream of a homemaker wife and lots of children?”

  “I didn’t know you then,” he said simply. “Now when I think about my future, I see you.” A kiss that was rough and tender both, Raj’s arms coming around her. “What I wanted before no longer matters.”

  But it did, Nayna thought as she drove home. Raj’s dreams mattered. Being abandoned, it had left wounds in his heart that even the love of his parents hadn’t fully healed. That cruel letter had reopened what had healed. Raj’s dream of a wife content to focus on their home, happy little children, and a husband who provided, it was both simple and profound.

  Even more important—above all else, beyond the specifics—he needed absolute, unflinching commitment from the woman who was his. He needed to know she was in this all the way and for the long haul. And for him, that meant marriage. It meant tradition. It meant following the well-trodden path because that path led to community and roots and certainty.

  There was nothing wrong with that.

  But Nayna had no idea what she wanted from life. Him, she wanted him. But not the tradition that had begun to feel like ropes around her, cutting off her air. Not the implicit defined patterns of behavior. Not the rigidly limited choices. The very things that centered Raj were her worst nightmare.

  Nayna had no right to put her dreams over his.

  23

  Everything’s Better with TEQUILA!!!

  Nayna went in to work again on January third. She’d fibbed and told her family the firm needed her to handle an urgent client request, but she’d just been desperate to be out of the house. She’d come in to work part of yesterday evening too, her intent to keep her mind occupied with things other than Raj and the mess she was making of her life.

  When she’d returned home, her sister had been sitting at the kitchen table chatting with their father, both of them laughing and smiling. Madhuri had been waxing lyrical about how her landlord had given her permission to paint a feature wall.

  Nayna’s stomach tightened.

  Putting down the pen, she glanced at the clock. It was seven and she should probably go home. Instead, she picked up the phone and spoke to the married couple who were her b
osses. Then, laptop and purse slung over her shoulder, she went on an emergency run to a mall that was still open, grabbing a bite to eat along the way. After which she drove to Ísa’s apartment building and parked in one of the external guest spots.

  And just sat in her car, staring at the steering wheel.

  Anger and frustration and sadness and raw need churned inside her.

  Tap, tap.

  Nayna jumped, looked up to see Ísa’s face outside the window. Heart thudding, she scrambled out of the car. “You gave me such a fright. I was away with the fairies.”

  “How long have you been waiting?” Her best friend was dressed in work clothes and carrying her satchel, so she must’ve only now returned home.

  “Not long, just five minutes,” Nayna said and the two of them chatted while going up to Ísa’s apartment.

  Once inside, Ísa made them a pot of tea as they continued to talk. Then her best friend’s face took on a stubborn cast. “Now sit,” she ordered Nayna. “Talk.”

  Nayna slumped into the sofa, Ísa beside her. “I need to get away.” She hadn’t understood that until she’d been sitting in her office, figuring out how she could avoid going home. “You know what I’ve realized? Raj is obstinate as hell in a quiet way. He’s decided on me and he’s not budging.” It felt so beautiful to be wanted that openly; if only that could fix everything.

  “And you’re not sure yet?” Ísa asked.

  “I want to strip him naked and jump his bones like a sex maniac,” Nayna admitted because this was Ísa, from whom she had no secrets. “Plus it turns out I like his brains.” She took a big gulp of the tea. “But there’s all this other stuff in my head that’s making it hard to think.”