Bound to the Billionaire
"Is it worth the sore throat?" Meera jumped, nearly dropping the container. She turned around to see Aarav leaning against the kitchen island, his arms crossed over his bare chest, his silk pajama pants low on his hips. He looked incredibly smug, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips. "I... I was just checking if the freezer was working," she stammered, holding the spoon behind her back. Aarav walked toward her, the moonlight hitting the sharp planes of his face. He took the spoon from her hand, licked the chocolate off it, and then put the lid back on the gelato. "Back to bed, Meera," he said, picking her up effortlessly despite her six-month bump. "If you wake up with a cough tomorrow, Iβm calling your doctor and telling him exactly who the thief was." "You're a mean husband," she grumbled, burying her face in his neck as he carried her back to their suite. "And you're a terrible liar," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. "But you're my favorite one."
