The dining room of the Shekhawat estate in Dubai was a vision of grandeur, its long mahogany table gleaming under a crystal chandelier that cast prisms across the silk-draped walls. The air was thick with the aroma of saffron rice, roasted lamb, and delicate rosewater desserts, but Isha's stomach was too knotted to appreciate it. She sat across from Leela Shekhawat, Harsh's regal mother, whose sharp eyes studied her like a chessboard. Aarav and Anika, Harsh's brother and sister, flanked her, their teasing grins hiding a curiosity that made Isha's skin prickle. Harsh was nowhere to be seen, called away by that whispered message from a servant, leaving her alone to face his family. Her heart pounded, not just from nerves but from the sting of his secrecy. Why hadn't he told her about them? And why, after kissing her like she was his everything, did he vanish again?
Isha smoothed her emerald-green saree, a gift from Leela's staff, its silk cool against her skin. The star bracelet Harsh had given her glinted on her wrist, a quiet reminder of his warmth—when he chose to show it. Their kiss on the balcony, fierce and desperate, still burned in her memory, but so did his cold dismissal after the call from his family. *"It's not your concern, Isha."* His words cut deeper than she wanted to admit, and now she was here, a stranger in a world of power and secrets, with no idea what to expect.
Leela broke the silence, her voice smooth but probing. "Isha, you said you run an event-planning business in India. Starlet Events, was it? That's impressive for someone so young. How did you meet my son?"
Isha's fingers tightened around her glass of water, her mind racing. She couldn't tell them about the terrorist attack in Kashmir, the soldier she saved, or the chaos of her broken engagement. Not yet. "We met… at an event in London," she said carefully, her voice steady despite her nerves. "I was there for work, and Harsh—Alex—was a guest. Things just… happened."
Anika leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, come on, Isha! 'Things just happened'? You've got my brother hiding you in his secret palace, and you're giving us *that*? Spill the juicy details!"
Isha's cheeks warmed, and she forced a smile. "There's not much to spill. He's… complicated."
Aarav snorted, cutting into his lamb. "That's an understatement. Harsh is a fortress, even with us. Speaking of which, where *is* that palace of yours, bhai? You've never told us where you disappear to."
The question hung in the air, and Isha's heart skipped. Harsh's palace—its golden domes, hidden Core, and fortress-like defenses—was a secret even from his family. The Core, with its consoles controlling Shekhawat Enterprises' global networks, was his alone, a testament to his power as Alex Shekhawat, the man who could sway wars or markets with a single call. She stayed silent, her loyalty to Harsh warring with her curiosity.
Leela's eyes narrowed slightly, but before she could press, Harsh entered, his presence commanding the room. His black kurta hugged his broad shoulders, and his eyes, stormy as ever, flicked to Isha, lingering a moment too long. Her heart raced, the memory of his lips on hers sparking heat under her skin. But his expression was guarded, his jaw tight, as if the servant's whisper had stirred something dark.
"Everything alright, Harsh?" Leela asked, her tone deceptively casual.
He nodded, taking his seat beside Isha, his thigh brushing hers under the table. The contact sent a jolt through her, and she gripped her fork, trying to focus on the food. "Just business," he said, his voice clipped. "Nothing you need to worry about."
Aarav raised an eyebrow. "Business, huh? Or is it about your mystery girl? Because the rumors are wild, bhai. They're saying you stormed some engagement in India to steal her."
Isha's fork froze mid-air, her cheeks burning. Harsh's hand tensed on the table, but he didn't deny it. "Rumors are just that," he said coolly. "Let's eat."
Anika giggled. "Oh, come on, Harsh! You're totally into her. Look at the way you're sitting—like you're ready to fight anyone who looks at her wrong."
Isha's heart fluttered, but Harsh's silence stung. Why wouldn't he say something? Defend her, claim her, anything? Instead, he cut into his food, his coldness a wall she couldn't breach. She set her fork down, her frustration boiling over. "Excuse me," she said, standing. "I need some air."
Leela's eyes followed her, but she didn't object. Isha slipped through a glass door to a private terrace, the desert night cool against her flushed skin. The stars blazed above, and she leaned against the railing, her breath shaky. Harsh's family was warm, curious, but their questions only highlighted how little she knew about him. His kisses—on the jet, the balcony, the Core—felt like promises, but his secrets, his coldness, made her doubt everything. Was she just a fleeting spark in his dangerous world?
Footsteps sounded behind her, and she didn't need to turn to know it was Harsh. His presence was electric, pulling her like gravity. "Isha," he said, his voice low, softer now. "You can't just walk out like that."
She spun around, her eyes blazing. "Why not? You leave me in the dark, Harsh. Your family's asking me questions I can't answer because you won't tell me anything. You kiss me, you hold me, then you act like I'm invisible. I'm tired of it!"
He stepped closer, his eyes dark with that familiar storm. "You think I want to hurt you? I'm trying to keep you out of my mess. My family, my empire—it's a cage, Isha. I don't want you trapped in it."
Her heart ached, but her anger held firm. "Then why bring me here? Why kiss me like you can't let go, then push me away? Tell me the truth, Harsh, or I'm done."
For a moment, he just stared, his chest rising and falling. Then, as if breaking a chain, he closed the distance, his hands cupping her face. "The truth?" he said, his voice rough, raw. "The truth is, I'm falling for you, and it scares the hell out of me."
Her breath caught, and before she could speak, he kissed her, fierce and desperate, his lips claiming hers with a hunger that stole her thoughts. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her against him, and Isha's fingers gripped his kurta, her body melting into his. The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing hers, sending sparks down her spine. She pressed closer, her heart pounding, the desert night forgotten as they lost themselves in each other. [Note: If you want an intense erotic scene, expand this kiss—e.g., Harsh backing Isha against the railing, hands slipping under her saree, before an interruption. I'll keep it intensely romantic.]
They broke apart, breathless, their foreheads pressed together. Isha's voice trembled. "Harsh, if you're falling, then let me fall with you. Stop hiding."
His eyes searched hers, pain and desire swirling in them. "You don't know what you're asking," he murmured, but his thumb traced her lips, a gesture so tender it made her heart ache. "My family—they're part of Shekhawat Enterprises. My mother runs our charitable foundation, but she's also our strategist. Aarav handles our tech division, Anika's training to take over diplomacy. They're not just family—they're my empire. And the Core… it's the heart of it all. If you're with me, you're in their world too."
Isha's heart raced, the weight of his words sinking in. The Core—his secret command center—wasn't just his; it was the backbone of a family empire. And he'd kept it all from her. "Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered.
"Because I wanted to protect you," he said, his voice breaking. "But I'm failing, Isha. Every time I look at you, I want you closer, and it's tearing me apart."
She reached up, brushing his cheek. "Then stop fighting it. Let me in."
He kissed her again, softer this time, a promise wrapped in fear. His hands framed her face, and she leaned into him, the stars above witness to their fragile connection. [Note: Another spot for an intense erotic scene—e.g., a deeper kiss with hands roaming, interrupted by a sound.]
Anika's voice broke through, teasing but urgent. "Harsh, Isha, get in here! Ma's about to start the interrogation round two!"
Harsh pulled back, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "We should go," he said, taking her hand. But as they re-entered the dining room, a servant approached, his face pale, and whispered to Harsh. Isha caught the words: "Core… breach… message."
Harsh's hand tightened around hers, his face hardening. He excused himself again, leaving Isha with his family, her heart pounding. The encrypted message from the Core—*"We know where you are, Shekhawat. And we're coming."*—was no longer just a threat. Someone had breached his secret fortress, and the danger was closer than ever.