Rebel Hard (Hard Play #2)(30)

Madhuri tucked and wrapped and pleated with quick fingers, all the while keeping up a running commentary. “Remember when we used to dress in Ma’s saris when we were young? You had the yellow one you loved.”

“And your favorite was the sparkly pink.” Nayna smiled, a poignant sadness in her heart for the past that would never again come. “I’m glad we’re all family again, Maddie.”

Her sister looked up from her pleating. “Me too, Ninu.” A wink, no echoes of the past in Madhuri’s voice—she had an enviable way of setting bad things aside and “forgetting” them. “Next time I get married, I’ll expect you to walk down the aisle in front of me in a circulation erasing sari.”

Nayna laughed and the two of them worked together to finish dressing her. To make it easier on herself, Nayna went for the classic look with the end of the sari pleated neatly across her chest and pinned to one shoulder to fall all the way to her calf. The peacock blue shone against the orange.

“Hair up I think,” Madhuri said and fashioned Nayna’s hair into a bun at the back of her head with tendrils framing her face. “Unless you want curls? I brought my hair iron in case I needed a touch-up before we left.”

“My hair still doesn’t hold curls, doesn’t matter what product I use.” Nayna made a face. “This is nice.” Simple but soft. “Let me do my makeup and you hunt for some bangles.” As Nayna, Madhuri, and their mother all had the same size wrist, they had a shared collection of bangles in every conceivable color. It had just kind of built up over the years.

Madhuri chatted along about her new job and her crotchety neighbor and how she was in love with the guy on The Bachelor.

Nayna stuck out her tongue. “No way. He’s so plastic.”

“Whatever, Ninu. You have no appreciation for a nice pack of abs.”

Nayna’s fingers tingled in sensory memory of a certain chest she’d explored, of the ridged outline of a very nice six-pack that she really, really wanted to touch again. Embarrassingly damp between her thighs, she finished putting on her eyeshadow and began with mascara. Behind her, Madhuri gave an exasperated sigh. “You go too light on the makeup.”

“I can’t stand too much on my skin.”

“I’ll do it for you next time,” Madhuri said before extending her hands. “Here, I found silver bangles, orange ones, and blue. You want to color block or mix and match?”

Nayna went for the silver, adding silver bells to her ears to match and a silver bindi with a center of peacock blue. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt pretty damn good. She was no Madhuri, but she looked sleek and, dare she say it, elegant. “Thanks, Maddie,” she said while her sister added another safety pin to ensure the sari stayed in place.

“There. Done.” Madhuri came up beside her, looking in the mirror to fix her own hair just right. “The Sharma girls are ready. World won’t know what hit it.”



* * *



When they walked into the grand wedding hall side by side, Nayna saw all eyes go to Madhuri. She wanted to smile. That was the way it had always been and would probab— Her thoughts cut off mid-word, her eyes locking with those of darkest brown across the room.

What was Raj doing here?

“Who is that smoking-hot hunk of deliciousness?”

Madhuri’s whisper had Nayna jerking. “Raj,” she said through a dry throat, her pulse a panicky beat. Because she knew what happened to men when they saw Madhuri. She knew.

“Oooooh.” Madhuri’s tone was intrigued. “I see what you mean about you two not suiting. He’s what, six three?”

It wasn’t a dig, was just Madhuri being Madhuri. And it wasn’t as if her sister would attempt to poach Raj. Men asked to be with her—she didn’t have to steal. Stomach churning and cheeks hot at the scene surely to come, Nayna walked with her sister to take a seat at one of the tables. The centerpiece was created of tea candles and exotic blooms floating in a fishbowl, each place setting perfectly arranged.

There was no assigned seating, but every one of the six hundred guests was guaranteed a seat. This was a very expensive wedding. And the back of her neck was prickling. Just her imagination. Raj was unlikely to be staring at her when Madhuri was right next to her.

“Good evening, ladies,” a deep male voice said just as Nayna put her purse on the table.

“Hello.” Madhuri glowed up at him, her smile luminous. “I’m Madhuri, Nayna’s sister.”

“Raj.” He slipped into the chair beside Nayna, his expression as solemn as always and his body clad in a black suit that was criminal in how it highlighted his rough-edged sexiness. “This wasn’t taken, was it?”

“My mother was going to sit there.” Nayna scowled at him instead of curling up into a self-defensive ball.

“Oh, Ma can sit by me,” Madhuri said airily.

Raj nodded and stayed put, his large body emanating a heat that made Nayna want to cuddle into him and sniff at his scent from the curve of his neck. He rose to his feet only when her parents arrived after making their way through all their friends and greeting everyone. Shaking her father’s hand and smiling at her mother, he then sat back down. His own parents soon joined them at the table.

Oh. My. God. The man wasn’t just playing dirty, he had declared no-holds-barred war.