The private jet hummed softly, slicing through the dawn sky toward Dubai. Isha sat by the window, her fingers tracing the star bracelet Harsh had given her, its delicate silver catching the light. Her heart was a mess—still reeling from the fire of his kisses in the Core, the way his hands had pulled her close, his voice raw with confession. *"You're fire. And it's burning me alive."* Those words played on repeat, but so did his coldness, the way he'd shut her out after the call from his family. He hadn't told her about them—not his mother, his brother Aarav, or his sister Anika. Not even a hint. Why? What was he hiding?
Harsh sat across from her, his eyes fixed on a tablet, his face a mask of focus. He was back in Alex Shekhawat mode—sharp, untouchable, the man who controlled global networks from the secret Core of his palace. But Isha couldn't forget the other Harsh, the one who'd kissed her like she was his world, only to pull back with warnings about his dangerous life. The push-and-pull was driving her crazy, and now she was headed to meet his family, who knew nothing about her except that she was some "mystery girl" causing a stir. Her stomach churned with nerves.
She glanced at him, willing him to look up, to say something—anything. But he didn't. Finally, she couldn't take the silence. "Harsh," she said, her voice sharper than intended. "Are you going to tell me anything about where we're going? Or am I just supposed to walk into your family's house blind?"
His eyes flicked up, cool and guarded. "You'll be fine. Just stay quiet and follow my lead."
Her jaw tightened. "Stay quiet? I'm not your servant, Harsh. I deserve to know who these people are. Your mother sounded like she could freeze a desert, and your brother and sister were practically interrogating you. Why didn't you tell me you had a family?"
He set the tablet down, his expression hardening. "Because it's not your concern, Isha. My family's complicated. The less you know, the safer you are."
"Safer?" she scoffed, leaning forward, her frustration boiling over. "You keep saying that, but you dragged me into your world—your palace, your Core, your enemies. You kissed me like I mattered, then acted like I'm nothing. If I'm walking into a lion's den, I need to know what I'm facing!"
For a moment, he just stared, his eyes flickering with something—guilt, desire, maybe both. Then he stood, crossing the cabin to sit beside her, so close their thighs brushed. The sudden proximity stole her breath, her heart racing as his scent—sandalwood and steel—filled her senses. "You're not nothing," he said, his voice low, rough. "You're… too much. That's the problem."
Her lips parted, her anger melting into confusion. "What does that mean?"
He leaned closer, his hand resting on the armrest, his fingers brushing hers. "It means every time I'm near you, I forget who I'm supposed to be. Alex Shekhawat doesn't get distracted. But you…" His eyes dropped to her lips, and her pulse skyrocketed. "You make me want things I can't have."
The air between them crackled, heavy with unspoken longing. Isha's voice trembled. "Then stop fighting it, Harsh. Let me in."
For a heartbeat, she thought he'd pull away, retreat behind his icy wall. But instead, he cupped her face, his thumb tracing her cheek, and kissed her. It was slow at first, a tentative exploration, but it deepened into something fierce, a fire that consumed them both. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer, and Isha's fingers tangled in his hair, her heart pounding as she pressed herself against him. The jet's hum faded, the world narrowing to the heat of his lips, the way his breath hitched when she kissed him back. [Note: If you want an intense erotic scene, expand this kiss—e.g., Harsh pulling Isha onto his lap, their hands roaming under clothes, before a sound interrupts. I'll keep it intensely romantic.]
They broke apart, breathless, their foreheads touching. Isha's cheeks burned, her voice a whisper. "Harsh, why do you keep doing this? Pulling me close, then pushing me away?"
He closed his eyes, his voice raw. "Because I'm terrified. My world—Shekhawat Enterprises, the Core, my enemies—it destroys everything I care about. My sister, Nisha…" He paused, pain flickering across his face. "She was killed because of me. I can't let that happen to you."
Her heart ached, and she reached for his hand, lacing her fingers with his. "I'm not Nisha. And I'm not afraid. Let me fight with you."
He looked at her, his eyes soft but tortured. "You don't know what you're asking."
Before she could respond, the pilot's voice crackled through the intercom. "Mr. Shekhawat, we're landing in Dubai in ten minutes." Harsh pulled back, the moment shattered, but his hand lingered on hers, a silent promise.
---
The Shekhawat family estate in Dubai was a marvel—white marble spires rising against the desert sky, gardens blooming with impossible greenery, and a private helipad where their jet touched down. Isha stepped out, her heart pounding as Harsh led her through towering doors into a grand foyer. The air was scented with jasmine, and chandeliers cast golden light, but the opulence couldn't mask the tension. Servants bowed, but their eyes darted to Isha, curious about the girl at Alex Shekhawat's side.
A woman approached, her silver hair gleaming, her presence commanding. This was Harsh's mother, Mrs. Shekhawat—though Isha still didn't know her name. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, locked onto Isha. "You must be the girl," she said, her voice cool but not unkind. "I'm Leela Shekhawat. Welcome to our home."
Isha forced a smile, her nerves jangling. "Thank you, Mrs. Shekhawat. I'm Isha."
Leela's gaze softened slightly, but before she could speak, a young man bounded down the staircase, his grin wide and mischievous. "So, this is the mystery girl!" he said, stopping in front of Isha. "I'm Aarav, Harsh's cooler brother. Nice to finally meet you."
Isha couldn't help but smile. "Nice to meet you too, Aarav."
A girl appeared behind him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And I'm Anika, the baby of the family," she said, tossing her long braid. "You've got Harsh all twisted up, Isha. Spill—how'd you do it?"
Harsh's voice cut through, sharp and cold. "Enough, Anika. This isn't a game."
Anika pouted but winked at Isha, undeterred. Leela gestured toward a sitting room. "Let's talk privately."
The room was elegant, with silk cushions and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the desert. Leela sat, her posture regal, while Aarav and Anika flopped onto a couch, their eyes fixed on Isha. Harsh stood by the window, his silence heavy, and Isha felt like a specimen under a microscope.
Leela spoke first, her voice measured. "Isha, we know little about you, but your presence with Harsh—at his private palace, whose location he guards even from us—has caused a stir. Who are you, and why is my son risking his reputation for you?"
Isha's heart raced, but she met Leela's gaze. "I'm just… Isha. I run an event-planning business in India. I met Harsh by chance, and things… got complicated. I didn't ask for this, but he's protecting me."
Aarav raised an eyebrow. "Protecting you? From what? Or is this just Harsh being his dramatic self?"
Harsh's eyes flashed. "Aarav, stay out of it."
Leela raised a hand, silencing them. "Harsh, you're Alex Shekhawat. Your empire—Shekhawat Enterprises—holds the world's secrets. The Core, wherever it is, controls networks that keep nations stable. You don't take risks lightly. Why her?"
Isha's breath caught. The Core—his family knew of it but not its location? Harsh's palace was a fortress of secrets, even from them. She glanced at him, waiting for an answer, but he stayed silent, his jaw tight.
Anika leaned forward, grinning. "Come on, bhai. Is it love? Because you're totally acting like a lovesick hero."
Harsh's glare could've frozen fire. "Anika, enough."
Isha's cheeks warmed, her mind racing. *Love?* The kisses, the bracelet, his confessions—they felt like love, but his coldness made her doubt. She spoke up, her voice steady despite her nerves. "I don't know why Harsh brought me here. But I'm grateful. He saved me from… a bad situation. I just want to understand him."
Leela's eyes softened, a flicker of approval. "You're honest. That's rare." She turned to Harsh. "We're not your enemies, son. But you can't hide forever. Stay for dinner. Let us know this girl who's turned your world upside down."
Harsh nodded, his voice clipped. "Fine."
---
That evening, Isha stood on a balcony overlooking the desert, the sunset painting the sky in fiery hues. The dinner loomed, and her nerves were frayed. Harsh hadn't spoken to her since the meeting, retreating into his icy shell, and the weight of his family's scrutiny pressed on her chest. She didn't belong in this world of marble and power, yet Harsh's kisses made her want to stay.
Footsteps sounded behind her, and she turned to find Harsh, his black kurta accentuating his broad shoulders, his eyes softer now. "You okay?" he asked, his voice low.
She crossed her arms, her frustration spilling out. "No, Harsh, I'm not. You didn't tell me about your family. You let me walk into this blind, and now they're looking at me like I'm some puzzle to solve. Why do you keep me in the dark?"
He stepped closer, his hand brushing her arm, sending a shiver through her. "I'm trying to protect you, Isha. My family—they're tied to my world. The Core, my enemies, my past. It's not safe."
She glared, but her voice softened. "I don't need protecting. I need you to trust me."
His eyes searched hers, and then, as if unable to resist, he pulled her close, his lips finding hers in a kiss that stole her breath. It was fierce, desperate, his hands roaming her back, pressing her against the balcony railing. Isha's fingers dug into his shoulders, her heart racing as she kissed him back, the desert breeze tangling their hair. [Note: If you want an intense erotic scene, expand this kiss—e.g., Harsh lifting Isha against the railing, their bodies pressed tight, before a sound interrupts. I'll keep it romantic.]
They pulled apart, breathless, their eyes locked. "Isha," Harsh whispered, his voice trembling. "I'm trying. But you're making it so damn hard."
Before she could respond, Anika's voice called from inside. "Dinner's ready, lovebirds!"
Isha's cheeks burned, but Harsh's lips twitched, a rare smile. He took her hand, leading her inside, but as they entered the dining room, a servant approached, whispering in Harsh's ear. His face hardened, and he excused himself, leaving Isha with his family.
As she sat, Leela's eyes met hers, kind but probing. But Isha's mind was on Harsh—and the encrypted message from the Core. *"We know where you are, Shekhawat. And we're coming."* Who was coming? And what secrets was Harsh still hiding?