The kitchen was thick with the aroma of tempering spices and the stifling, electric heat between Rahul and Priya. Priya stood at the stove, her fingers trembling as she stirred the dal, but her mind was nowhere near the cooking. She was draped in a sheer, peach-colored chiffon saree that clung to her damp skin, the backless blouse revealing every shiver that raced down her spine.

Rahul was a wall of solid, muscular heat behind her. His hands—large and calloused—were buried deep in the folds of her saree at her waist, his thumbs hooked into her silver kamarbandh. He was a man possessed, his broad chest crushing her soft back as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.