RISHTAA: An Arranged Love (IPKKND AU) **ON HIATUS**

Chapter 5: Khushi

Khushi quickly collected the used cups, hoping to hide in the kitchen and catch her breath. Her heart was pounding and her cheeks were constantly heating up. He'd ignored her for the first few minutes, but his attention had sharpened after she'd handed him a cup of tea. She'd felt his eyes burning through her as she'd struggled through conversations with his family. He'd answered his own questions quietly and confidently, his eyes flicking to her again and again.

She'd tried to watch him discreetly but was sure he'd caught her a few times. Her heartbeat reacted oddly, speeding up and sending her emotions spiralling out of control.

Hai Devi Maiyya, what's happening to me? What's he doing to me? My heart ...

She hadn't reacted like this to any of the other men. Five others had sat where he sat, making the same circular but polite conversations with her father as the families sized one another up. She'd rejected three of them – one was rude to her father; another had leered at Jiji when he thought no one was looking; and the third had tried to hold her hand in the shadows of the kitchen – and been rejected by the other two.

But this man, this tall stranger with darkness in his eyes, he made her pulse race and her palms itch. He was electric, magnetic, dangerously desirable in a way the others hadn't been.

Maybe it's not him, Khushi thought with sudden clarity. Maybe it was my tea. Or the sweets. Yes. Yes. I have acidity. It was the barfi. I must have made a mistake, it was my first time making a sugar free sweet. Oh Devi Maiyya, he'll get sick! He'll never say yes to me now.

Something akin to sadness pulsed within her. She closed her eyes. 

You don't want him, Khushi, she reminded herself, He doesn't smile. He won't laugh at your jokes and count stars with you. He won't smile when you dance to your favourite songs, and he certainly won't join in. He won't let you hang up your stars, he won't bring you jalebi when you're sad, he won't buy you channa just because he thought of you on the way home from the office.

Bua-ji's words, overheard one night after dinner, came to her unbidden.

"There's no reason to worry about Payalia, Shashi-babua. She'll make an ideal wife. Hundreds of boys will line up for her. Worry about this Sanka Devi. Who will marry her, Nand Kishore, with her wildness and penchant for trouble?"

Babu-ji is starting to worry. He hasn't said anything, but I can tell. I can always tell.

A soft knock disturbed her racing thoughts, and Khushi turned to find him standing in the archway. Her tummy gave a little flip-flop.

"May I have some water?"

Her inexplicable dhak-dhak returned at the sound of his voice, now directed solely at her. Nodding, she poured a glass from a copper vessel and handed it to him, using every drop of her courage to meet his eyes. She drowned in their honeyed depths, only coming back to herself when he took the steel glass from her. 

Flushing, Khushi turned away and busied herself by tidying the kitchen. She washed the cups and the pot before turning to the countertop. He was still standing there, watching her every move as he sipped. Her hands shook slightly as she replaced the canister of tea on the shelf, and their silence stretched, becoming uncomfortable.

Explain about the barfi.

"The barfi ... it was sugar free," she began, reaching up to replace the canister of sugar, "and ... you see ... I--" 

Khushi stretched and stood on her toes, confident in her ability to reach the highest shelf, but the burn of his gaze on her back made her stumble.

His hand was suddenly there, holding the canister in the air as she gripped the countertop to regain her balance. She closed her eyes, cursing her clumsiness.

"Careful, Khushi," his voice was soft and his warm breath tickled her neck. 

She shivered.