The Bollywood Bride by Sonali Dev Read Free Book Online Page B

in half measures.
    “Aw, Vic, is that a proposal? You hopeless romantic, you!” Mira made a face at him and smiled into his eyes.
    “Is that a yes?” His answering smile was kind, amused.
    “What, and make it that easy for you?”
    He laughed. And his laugh sounded real.
    Ria stared at her, this girl with her messy curls, her flat shoes, and that unencumbered smile that swallowed up her eyes and made no pretty dents in her cheeks. Everything about her spoke of ease. And it seemed to seep into Vikram and relax him. Ria knew his smiles as well as she knew herself, and she knew the one he was smiling at Mira came from deep within. In a moment of startling clarity Ria knew walking away from him had been the right thing to do. He could still smile like that—like happiness lived inside him. Ria hadn’t taken that away from him.
    The relief made her sick.
    She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at the gleaming shard in her palm. A physical, tangible wound would do nothing to distract from the pain in her heart. She let the piece drop into the trash can.
    “You be careful with that.” The impossible familiarity of his voice slid over Ria like a beloved, well-worn scarf.
    She looked up at him, but he was looking at Mira. His eyes saw only Mira, the blue gray melting with concern. He cupped Mira’s hand in his own and plucked the piece of glass out of her hand with the gentleness of someone catching a butterfly and let it drop into the trash.
    Ria rose to her feet.
    Vikram’s eyes stayed fixed on Mira even as she looked away from him and gave Ria another apologetic grin. He was completely in control now. Ria felt the control stretched taut across his body and mirrored it.
    Mira opened her mouth, but Ria couldn’t take another apology. “It was nice meeting you, Mira.” This time her voice didn’t tremble. She blasted a Ria Parkar smile at her, the best one she could muster, pulled herself up to her full height, and with all the practiced grace of an Ice Princess she floated up the stairs without a backward glance.
    Behind her Mira sucked in a breath. “Stop it, Vic! What’s the matter with you? She can still hear us.” Mira’s breathless whisper turned into a throaty moan, painting pictures in Ria’s head. The Ice Princess melted around her. She sped up, running the rest of the way up to the door.
    “Why would I care?” His voice chased after her, hot and seductive and just loud enough to hit its mark before she made it out the door.

5
    R ia pulled the door soundlessly in place and moved away from the gleaming glass before she gave in to the urge to slam it so hard it shattered. Vikram’s voice lingered in her ears, burning graphic images into her brain. The heavy silk of her ghaghra swirled around her legs like tethers. Her ankles wobbled in her too-high heels. The beadwork on her halter clawed into her neck. She wanted to pull at it, but she couldn’t. She’d spent too many years holding her fingers back. She’d had too much practice—with uncomfortable clothes, with unbearable feelings. She had too much control.
    She pulled herself together, gathered up her ghaghra, barely lifting it a few inches off the floor, tugged her scarf around herself until it squeezed her shoulders together, and made her way across the kitchen. As long as no one spoke to her, she could handle this.
    The entire house was exploding with people. Cozy groups gathered everywhere like tangled-up human knots. Laughter rang through the air. It was like one of her movies playing out in real life. Colorful clothes, beautiful people, the thumping beat of shaadi music. The sizzle of warm memories buzzed through the air like an electrical charge.
    Her aunt and uncle had spent their entire lives collecting these people, building the right to gather so much happiness. At every path that converged they had made the right decision, made the right sacrifices, and held on to the right values. Nikhil was a culmination of all the good they had