Aakash Thakkar knows his path. Family, duty, responsibility, tradition. His path does not lead to madness, chaos, wild passionate steamy nights, and her. Or so he tells himself.
Kanak Shourie lives for the present. Friends, fun, work, life. Her present does not include the weight of other people’s judgment, stuffy societal mores, discovering desire with uptight businessmen, and him. She refuses to believe otherwise.
What happens when the one you hate is the only one you want? What happens when you try to right a wrong but end up in something that feels more right than anything ever has?
Can Aakash and Kanak bury a lifetime of distrust and forge a life together? Or will the reasons that had them battling each other for years bury their tentative new beginning?
Read an Excerpt from Once Upon a Scandal
Kanak gasped as his lips trailed a slow, sensual line of kisses down her neck. Her eyes closed and her head fell back giving him better access.
He growled in approval, the sound thrumming through her. She fumbled with the buttons of his white shirt, her hand slipping through the gap and finding hard, firm, muscled skin. Her fingernails did a slow circle around his flat nipple making him nip her on her shoulder.
Her dazed eyes met his stormy ones, disbelieving, intense and confused. He lowered his head and took her lips in a kiss that solved her confusion, once and for all.
She wanted this man, more than she’d ever wanted another. And she couldn’t deny it anymore. She fisted her hands in the thick, rough silk of his hair and pulled him impossibly closer.
Their tongues met, dueled, and stroked making her moan, the breath of sound disappearing between his lips. He ground his hips against her, the movement making her legs fall apart, the better to cradle him with.
The rough concrete behind her back scraped her skin but she couldn’t have cared less. But his hands slipped between the wall and her and flipped her over so his back was against it. She landed against the hard length of him, her hips doing an unconscious roll that had his head falling back.
She unzipped his pants, her fingers slipping in, searching and finding the hot silken steel of him. He cursed brokenly, his hips arching into her touch. She smiled, the heady rush of power over such a powerful man spooling through her.
Until his hands cupped her breasts and her eyes rolled back in her head, pleasure swamping her and making it hard to focus. He dipped his head and took her breast in his mouth, the material of her flimsy dress damp in seconds from his attentions. His other hand pinched, fondled, and stroked the other breast until her legs quivered.
Kanak stroked harder, desperate for him to not stop what he was doing. He didn’t seem to want to anyway. He pulled her dress up, above her hips, the cool night breeze caressing her thighs and making her shiver.
Kanak shoved frantically at his pants, pushing until she got what she wanted. It sprang free and she wrapped her hands around it, fisting it.
The flash when it came lit up the darkness around them. Their small corner is suddenly blindingly bright. He reacted with startling swiftness, spinning her so she was covered by the bulk of his body, unseen by whoever was out there.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he growled over his shoulder, his furious laser-like gaze sending a shiver down Kanak’s spine even though it wasn’t directed at her.
Nervous laughter was the only answer. And then, another bright flash.
“I am going to kill you,” he said conversationally to the person behind him.
In a matter of seconds, he tucked himself back into his pants and straightened Kanak’s dress with deceptive calm. When he turned, still keeping Kanak hidden behind him, she heard the photographer squeak.
“Give me your camera.” The words were soft, calm, and deadly. The tone is usually what you heard before you died.
“No.” The man with the death wish giggled and moved back, out of his reach. “This is going to make me rich. And not just the photographs man. I got video too and it’s not on this camera. It’s with my friend who is already gone. You can’t catch him.” Another giggle.
And before either of them could react, he disappeared into the dark.
Ice slid through Kanak’s veins. What had she done? What had she allowed to happen? A sex tape of her on the internet, splashed across the tabloids, a sex tape with him…
“I will fix this,” he said, the same ice in his voice except his was directed at the mystery photographer. “I promise you.”
She wanted to believe him. She almost did but Kanak knew that some things were out of even his control.
A sex tape. Her head spun at the enormity of this fiasco. A sex tape with Aakash Thakkar, big shot industrialist, rising political power, and her number one enemy.
She was screwed and she knew it.
About the Author:
Shilpa Suraj wears many hats – corporate drone, homemaker, mother to a fabulous toddler, and author.
An avid reader with an overactive imagination, Shilpa has weaved stories in her head since she was a child. Her previous stints at Google, in an ad agency, and as an entrepreneur provide colour to her present-day stories, both fiction and non-fiction.
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