~ Book 1 of "Mine" series
A Russian guy named Dmitry arranged in marriage with an Indian girl named Geet.
She was introvert and shy
while - he was ( not so) less talkative and cold with Everyone except her.
family from both side fixed wedding des...
As I approached the stage, his gaze finally met mine, That fleeting eye contact sent my heart into a flutter, though it remained a hidden unrest within me. A warm smile graced his lips, and I couldn't resist responding in kind, lowering my gaze bashfully.
Upon my arrival at the stage, Dmitry's mother approached me with kind words, saying, "You look stunning." Her compliment was met with a gracious smile from me.
My mother then directed both of us to take our seats on a well-appointed sofa. Soon after, they placed a red dupatta over our heads and began performing traditional rituals.
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Dmitry's pov :
These people proved to be quite entertaining, engaging in light-hearted conversations about our respective countries. However, my attention was abruptly diverted when I noticed the collective focus of the crowd fixed on a single point. I followed their gaze and, I'm not ashamed to tell that I actually gasped there . In that moment, I forgot the conversation I was engaged in and simply found myself captivated by her presence. A smile naturally formed on my lips, causing her to blush in shyness, a reaction I found rather endearing.
Approaching her closely, I had the chance to admire her from a close vantage point. Her attire, hair, and makeup were flawless. Her large, expressive eyes and shy demeanor only added to her charm.
As her face remained partially concealed beneath the red cloth, her eyes sparkled with anticipation. Leaning in closer to her ear, I whispered softly, "You are truly beautiful." She met my gaze with a smile, she was not noticing our closeness but I did.
Her mother said her to exchange the rings. She selected a ring from the plate, and I extended my hand. With a graceful movement, she slid the ring onto my finger, eliciting cheers from the gathered guests. It was now my turn. I chose a ring, and she offered her hand. As I gently held her soft hand, I couldn't resist a playful inquiry, "Are you sure, Geeta, that you can handle me?" Her eyes met mine, and she nodded in affirmation. I couldn't help but smirk inwardly, thinking, "No, babygirl, you can't," though I had to keep my thoughts to myself in the midst of a hundred watchful guests.
