Rebel Hard (Hard Play #2)
Page 30
Her best friend was dressed in a half sari, the color a redhead-flattering vivid purple accented with blues, golds, and even a strip of green on the hem of the skirt. The dupatta, which picked up the accent colors, was made of netting and tucked in a way that complimented Ísa’s curvy form. She wore jewelry matched to the outfit, and hidden under her long skirt were pretty heeled sandals. Mehndi designs marked her palms.
Madhuri bustled in then, gorgeous in vibrant yellow. “Come on, Ísa, it’s time!” She grabbed Ísa’s hand, but Nayna’s best friend turned around to smile at her one more time.
“I’m so happy for you, Nayna.”
Then the music was playing and Madhuri and Ísa and the other younger members of the family were dancing down the open-air aisle under the soft darkness of dusk, all of them laughing as they pulled off an upbeat Bollywood dance number that had the guests on their feet, singing and dancing along. Someone whistled and a friend of Raj’s beat out a rhythm on a tabla set up in one corner for just this purpose.
Children ran out from the crowd to join in, and were joyously welcomed.
Aditi, on the groom’s side, technically shouldn’t have been in the group, but she was the one who’d choreographed the entire thing after Nayna told her what she wanted—and no way was she about to miss the big event. And this was Nayna and Raj’s wedding, with their rules. Dressed in an outfit of shimmering cobalt blue edged with intricate silver, her dupatta silver with a lacy silver pattern, Raj’s baby sister danced down alongside the others.
Madhuri had learned the steps while in her lounge in London, while several of Nayna’s Fiji-resident cousins had got together at an aunt’s house to do the same.
The rehearsal yesterday’d had them all in hysterics, but they were in fine form today.
Nayna, able to see them from her hiding spot, grinned. Yes, this was her and Raj’s wedding, nothing solemn or stiff about it.
Her parents paraded far more elegantly up the aisle, both with huge smiles on their faces.
Raj’s family—Aditi excepted—was already with him on the wedding pavilion built on the grass of the huge piece of land they’d managed to borrow thanks to Raj’s friendship with the owner. It was gorgeous, with mature trees all around the edges. Huge wooden buckets overflowing with cheerful flowers dotted the landscape, and fairy lights strung across the area created a twinkling ceiling.
The wedding pavilion was raised so all their guests could see the ceremony. Rather than glitz, they’d gone for wild and joyous. The structure was a creamy white, but waterfalls of colorful silk fabric dropped from the roof in fairytale abundance to tumble over the edges of the pavilion. Velvet-covered cushions and a thick Turkish rug finished off the decadent space.
People sat at tables dressed with more bright silks and centerpieces that were a spill of floral joy. The small sparkly bags filled with snacks to tide people over through the beginning of the ceremony had been Madhuri’s idea. Wait staff would soon begin circulating with more substantial eats.
Her parents and Raj’s had insisted on paying for the ridiculously huge wedding, complete with catering. She and Raj had the feeling they were hoping for payback in the form of grandchildren.
Smiling inside at the idea of making babies with Raj, she took a deep breath and got ready. Her escort was made up of “brothers.” Younger male cousins, all spiffed up in colorful sherwanis for the occasion and trying to be adult and serious.
Nayna had to fight the urge to pinch their cheeks and hug them close.
Her entrance music began.
Though hundreds of people stood watching her move up toward Raj, the wedding garland in her hands, he was the only one she saw. And then he was standing across from her and he was bending so she could place the garland over his head, and she was wearing the one he’d put over her head, and the ceremony had begun.
She knew it took a long time, but every time she glanced at Raj, he’d give her the smile that was just for her, and it was perfect. Their parents tried to glare at them to behave and be solemn, but their lips kept tugging up. Even the pandit just sighed and shook his head as he said, “Young people these days” and continued the ceremony.
During the part where the two of them were hidden under a heavily embroidered cloth so they were invisible to others, Nayna blew Raj a kiss, and he fleetingly touched his thumb to her lower lip. After which they had to behave and do what they were supposed to under the cloth, which was for Raj to put sindoor—vermillion powder—in the center part of her hair.
He did it with a gentle touch.
The rest of the ceremony passed by in joy after joy, but Nayna was never so glad as when she collapsed in bed with Raj that night. They’d managed to convince their parents to do away with the custom of “fetching the bride back.” Lying on his back beside her, wearing only his formal pants, Raj lifted up her hand and traced the lines of mehndi down her arm.
“There’s a secret hidden in the design somewhere on my body.” Mehndi patterns covered her arms past the elbow, her feet, and her legs up to her calves.
He continued to lazily trace the lines. “What?”
“Your name.”
A glance at her. “Really?”
“Yep.”
His eyes narrowed, determination on his features. “I’m going to find it.”
She ended up naked and sated and delighted as a result of his hunt. It was after midnight when he finally said, “There” and pressed a kiss to the crook of her elbow.
Nayna sighed, tugged him up so she could cuddle in his arms… and fell fast asleep in the embrace of the husband who’d always been meant to be hers.
51
Seven Years Later
Aarav glanced over from his position in the pack on Raj’s back. “Ma! Look!”
Nayna followed his small finger to see a colorful tropical parrot. “Good spotting!” She took a photograph, then plucked at her T-shirt. “I never realized marinating in my own sweat was a thing,” she said to her husband.
The heavens opened up as if on cue, the warm rain washing away the sweat before disappearing as quickly as it had come. Her hand locked with Raj’s by now, Nayna laughed along with him and their son. Three-year-old Aarav was as used to going with the flow as he was to trying strange new foods.
“It’ll dry soon enough,” said the man who was her everything. “I think you’re steaming already.”
“It’s funny because it’s not even a joke.” She reached up to ruffle their baby’s wet hair. “Hungry?”
When Aarav nodded, she dug out a kid-friendly fruit bar from her pack, unwrapped it, and passed it over. The three of them continued on along the path in one of Indonesia’s dense forests. It was far from their first adventure. They’d begun small only a year into their marriage, a couple of days here and there exploring their own backyard. New Zealand was a land full of chances for wonder and excitement.
It had helped that Navin and Komal, ensconced in their own home and weirdly happy considering their past, had slowly become reliable members of the family. Aditi, of course, could run rings around them even back then.
Then Raj’s deputy had “graduated” his training and they’d been able to take off for a week at a time. Not more because Sailor’s company was growing like crazy, and Nayna, as its chief financial officer, was working insane hours. But she met Raj in the middle as they’d promised one another, and they came out of that manic period whole and happy and rooted in one another.
A breather, her longed-for trip to the Amazon, before Aarav settled in her womb.
Their families had been horrified when they started traveling with a one-year-old, but Aarav was an adventurer at heart. He knew Maddie mausi and Sunny mausa lived in London with his twin girl cousins, while his aunt Adi was working on an engineering project in Australia, and he also knew that he liked guavas but not pawpaw. Lychees continued to be up for debate.
All their travels, every work challenge or opportunity, each family decision, Nayna and Raj had talked over and han
dled as a team. Nayna had begun this trip as CFO of a brilliant ethical-cosmetics company, but after talking it over with Raj the previous night, she’d decided to hand in her notice on her return.
It was time for her to jump into another start-up, help create their financial foundation. She’d spent four years as Sailor’s right hand, left only when his company was rock steady and thriving. After three years with the cosmetics company, she felt it was in the same strong position. Her skills would be better utilized elsewhere.
Raj, meanwhile, continued to grow his family’s business with slow, steady patience. It was a legacy he’d leave not only to Aarav but to Navin and Komal’s son and daughter and to any children Aditi might one day have.
He was, and always would be, her anchor, her love, her heart.
“What’re you thinking, Nayna with the sundar nayna?” asked her gorgeous husband who sent her half-naked selfies when she was least expecting them.
“That Mr. Darcy has nothing on Raj Sen.” Rising on tiptoe, she kissed him to the sound of their son’s laughter. “I love our happily-ever-after, and I love you.”
“And me!” Aarav cried.
“And you,” Nayna confirmed for their smiling baby.
Her man with the dark eyes full of intensity smiled, and his gaze held no shadows, no hollows, no whispers of pain. All she saw was love so deep and true that Nayna knew it would be there for her. Always.
Thank you for reading REBEL HARD. If you missed CHERISH HARD (Ísa and Sailor) and ROCK HARD (featuring Sailor’s rugby legend brother, Gabriel), both are now out. To stay up to date with my releases and get exclusive access to deleted scenes and short stories, please join my newsletter at: www.nalinisingh.com And if you feel like leaving a review, that would be wonderful!
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If you’re curious about the Hindi language words used in this book, it’s a dialect/form specific to Fiji, so some words/spellings may not be as you’ve seen them previously. The food described in it comes from the same tiny cluster of islands in the Pacific—it tends to be simpler than dishes you would usually find in an Indian restaurant, not as heavy with creams and sauces, most likely because of the tropical climate. (I stole all the mentioned recipes from my mum, who is an incredible cook.) Also, yes, I have tasted kava and, as with Nayna, it made my tongue go numb.
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—xoxo Nalini
About the Author
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Psy-Changeling, Guild Hunter, and Rock Kiss series, Nalini Singh usually writes about hot shapeshifters, dangerous angels, and sexy rock stars. With the Hard Play series, she decided to write about a sinfully gorgeous set of brothers and their friends, all of whom will make your blood pump and your heart melt.
Nalini lives and works in beautiful New Zealand, and is passionate about writing. If you'd like to learn more about the Hard Play series or her other books, you can find excerpts, behind-the-scenes materials, and more information on her website: www.nalinisingh.com.
Other Books by Nalini Singh
The Rock Kiss series
Rock Addiction
Rock Courtship: A Novella
Rock Hard
Rock Redemption
Rock Wedding
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The Hard Play series
Cherish Hard
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The Psy/Changeling series
Slave to Sensation
Visions of Heat
Caressed by Ice
Mine to Possess
Hostage to Pleasure
Branded by Fire
Blaze of Memory
Bonds of Justice
Play of Passion
Kiss of Snow
Tangle of Need
Heart of Obsidian
Shield of Winter
Shards of Hope
Allegiance of Honor
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The Psy/Changeling Trinity series
Silver Silence
Ocean Light
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The Guild Hunter series
Angels’ Blood
Archangel’s Kiss
Archangel’s Consort
Archangel’s Blade
Archangel’s Storm
Archangel’s Legion
Archangel’s Shadows
Archangel’s Enigma
Archangel’s Heart
Archangel’s Viper
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For detailed descriptions of these books, as well as additional titles, visit Nalini’s website: www.nalinisingh.com
Copyright Information
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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Copyright © 2018 by Nalini Singh
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All rights reserved.
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
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eISBN: 978-1-942356-66-0
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Cover design by: Croco Designs