"I hate you!" She shrieked at him while stepping out of the pool. Her clothes were completely drenched, all thanks to him, and the cold December breeze was nipping her wet skin, making her shiver frenziedly. She sauntered around the pool, unaware of her now transparent white dress, and stopped in front of him. "I hate you, Arnav Singh Raizada!" She shouted again, her voice echoing around the slightly-dim garden. "The feeling's mutual, sunshine." He smirked callously, looking thoroughly entertained at her current state. She took a step forward and stood on her tippy-toes. "Don't." She poked him in the chest. "Call me that!"
She yelped in surprise as he grabbed her hand and twisted it around to the small of her back, yanking her flush against his form in a swift motion. She looked into his eyes, those striking, warm-caramel orbs that always invited her in, drew her closer, left her begging for more. Eyes that spoke volumes, spoke things that his mouth could not put into words.
She'd always hated and loved those eyes.
"I'll call you whatever I want, Khushi." He sneered. She opened her mouth to retort, but it seemed the words had died in her mouth. And all she could do was look into his eyes, unblinking and feral. As she gazed into those honey depths, the intensity and untamed glint that she saw made her insides churn in anticipation and longing.
He tucked a wet strand of hair that was sticking to her cheek behind her ear, his fingers felt feathery and light against her skin, his touch lingering there far too long. She shivered as he stroked her cheek with his thumb.
And it wasn't because of the cold.
His hold on her hand tightened, and his eyes, filled with an unrestrained fervor and vehemence so deep that it nearly made her knees buckle, trailed down to her lips.
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