HIS INNOCENT BRIDE

TWENTY-TWO

"I-I..." What I could give him? "You have everything." I stated helplessly and I also didn't have the money to buy him anything. I would have to sell my kidney just to buy a lollypop according to his standards.

"I think I do." There was something in his voice that made me look at him to find those forest green eyes burning with intensity unknown to me. Everything about him was unknown to me. "But you have to give me something." He tsked his tongue as I gasped loudly when he grabbed me from my waist and made me sit on the aisle, closer to him.

"You can think about it until I finish it." I played with my fingers as I looked at him finding equipment he needed. His every move was sleek with the efficiency of a panther. He was fast but he was cautious with everything too. He could deal with multiple things at that time, I guess.

He put the spaghetti to boil as he made small slices of the chicken like a pro. I remembered when I first dealt with the meat, I became sick because of the smell but it looked like he had a practice to that or he was tough enough to deal with meat and stuff.

Dumbo. He is in mafia. He deals with blood and sweats.

My conscience mocked me as I shook my head in agreement with that. He could do anything as the only thing that could make him sick was some love and care and cheesiness. It was true if I thought about his face when Muzamil and Zaroon bhai teased him.

After preparing the chicken he took some mint to make mint margarita and that really made my lips to be in an 'o' shape. He really needed some praise but he was already very much arrogant. I couldn't do that and I also hadn't forgot that how he married me and what he did to me in the car without my permission just because of Jameel.

I could say that I loved him and since love is blind, I got manipulated by him and sneaked at midnight.

"But he would kill you the moment you use the word love." My conscience showed sympathy with me as all my excited evaporated in a second.

He put the margarita in the freezer as the spaghetti was almost done when he came towards me. The kitchen wasn't so big so when he towered over me it seemed even more smaller.

"Defeated." He smirked as he placed his hands on the aisle caging me in between. He used to just come close to me, touch me, talk to me like he owned me. Sometimes it made me feel like I belonged to him. Owing and belonging were two different things. My aunt owned me because she gave me shelter in my tough time but I didn't belong to her. I was on my own alone living as if paying my debt to her.

But with him it was something different besides everything he had done to me. It felt like if anything happened to me, he would come. I immediately shook my head realizing what I was thinking. I was just his slave and nothing more and he would come if anything happened to me because I was answerable to him. There was nothing else. There could be nothing else.

"We haven't tasted it yet." I whispered as my voice was barely audible but the way he smirked I knew he heard that.

"You have a smart mouth." His eyes fell on my lips as I was chewing them but stopped abruptly feeling his heated gaze on them. He chuckled, and this time he actually chuckled when I pressed my lips in a thin line.

He stepped back with a smirk as the spaghetti was done. He presented me that on the plate with the ketchup spread on one side. I loved ketchup.

He brought the margarita as he towered over me again and stood between my legs that he parted with his knees making me gulp.

Without saying anything he gave me the plate and I was so hungry that the aroma made me forget that he was this close to me. Yes, food had that effect on me.

I took the bite as the chicken melted softly in my mouth with the taste that blessed my taste buds. He was actually good.

"You want some?" I asked as I was about to take the second bite when I realized manners are something.

"I don't eat carbs at night." He was looking at me keenly when he answered carelessly.

"What are you a model?" Again, my mouth betrayed me. I wanted to cry at that moment when his smirk darkened.

"You got the tongue. Show me." He was leaning in against my mouth but I abruptly put my second bite inside my mouth so that he couldn't do what he was thinking about but he proved me wrong as he took the other strand of the spaghetti that was hanging down till my cheeks.

My eyes widened as he started eating that as until his lips touched mine. He sucked my lower lip softly making my toes curl at the tingling sensation at the pit of my stomach. I rubbed my heels against the cabinets to overcome the feeling.

"You said you don't eat carbs." I said as soon as finish my food inside my mouth.

"I wasn't eating that. It just came in my way." He smirked as his gaze kissed my lips making me squirm on the cold aisle.

"So, what are you going to give me?" His gaze still fixed there.

"Nothing." I mumbled with my mouth full. He just raised an eyebrow as he demanded explanation.

"You said fancy meal. This isn't fancy." I took the sip of my drink as he looked at me with shocked expressions. He didn't know it was coming.

"It is an Italian dish." He tried to make a point.

"But you made it in Pakistani style. It's not fancy." I made a point too while eating my food. If my aunt ever saw me talking like that she would go in shock. I had never talked this much in just one day. I didn't even know myself from where this confidence came from. I think the fear of getting humiliating and scolding wasn't there.

"It's a small dhaba. I had to use the current ingredients." He was looking pissed and amused at the same time. My food was almost finished.

"You failed." I put my plate down smiling as he just groaned while looking at me. He looked at me with amused expressions as he grabbed a tissue and wipe my chin making my smiling face vanish in the air.

"You are such a vixen."

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