Rediscover This Means Love—Read an Exclusive Chapter!

Friends,

Sometimes, I revisit my own books and honest to god, I have no recollection of what I wrote, or how I wrote it. But this scene from This Means Love was based on something that had happened and it struck me as funny and I thought you guys should read the excerpt at least, in case you haven’t read the book.

This is book 2 of the Khan Sisters Trilogy and I loved writing this book(I actually love writing all my books). It’s super steamy and it’s a slow burn romance as well.

Go ahead, enjoy!

(For context – Aliya and Jamal have just gotten married and for some reason, Jamal insists that they begin their married life in his Nani’s house which hasn’t been occupied in a long, long time. Jamal is also Aliya’s boss and this begins as a marriage of convenience but there’s chemistry and a shared past, so there’s that.)

It’s just us and I don’t know how to process how soon all of this has happened. Just four days ago, he saw me lose my shit in office over the proposal from hell, and we agreed to be fake engaged. And now we’re married, for real?

Jamal glances at me once, and I look back at him. It’s just us in this house. And maybe a dozen or so bhoots? I look up at the ceiling that had caught Amna’s eye and I shiver. But then I look back at Jamal who seems to be regarding me carefully. He walks up to me and each step he takes makes my heart pound like a drumbeat.

Taking my hand, he leads me to the sofa, and I sit down, but he doesn’t. Instead, still holding my hand, he kneels before me and my eyes go wide.

‘You’ll ruin your suit!’ I whisper.

‘And possibly bust my knees,’ he adds with a grimace. ‘But it felt like the right thing to do.’

‘Do what?’

‘Aliya, I’ve repeatedly asked you to trust me and I know it’s very unfair because I haven’t given you any reason to trust me. Instead, I’ve been doing a lot of sketchy things but this house…’ He looks up around the house and I wonder what he sees. Then he looks back at me. ‘This house meant everything to me when I was growing up. I don’t think Nani will be happy to see the state it’s in right now. But more importantly, I didn’t realise things were this bad here. I promise I will fix everything here until it’s perfect.’

‘That’s okay,’ I tell him. In fact, I almost tell him I’m low maintenance, but Amna has forbidden me from ever bringing that up and I stop myself in time.

Jamal leans forward and kisses my knuckles and my skin prickles warmly in anticipation.

‘We’re married now. For real. We can do more than kiss each other. Much, much, more,’ he says in that low sex operator voice, his dark eyes gazing at me intently, my tummy flipping and my blood turning hot in my veins. ‘But not tonight.’

Huh? I snap out of my lust-filled daze to look at him. Did he just say what he said?

‘Tonight, I’ll make up a room for you to sleep in, and I’ll sleep here on the sofa. I don’t want our first night to be so disastrous and…’

‘It already is,’ I interrupt him. His eyebrows go up, but he shakes his head.

‘I know. I’m sorry about that. Everyone has some sort of vague idea of how they want their first night as a married couple to be, and no one ever dreams they’ll spend it in a…’

‘…bhoot bangla?’ I supply the word and immediately regret it because his face falls.

He nods. ‘You’re right. This is like a bhoot bangla. But I promise you, it’s all going to change.’

‘But why can’t we…’ I trail off. I’m not a shy person by nature, but here I am, trying to ask my husband why we can’t sleep together on our first night as a married couple and the words dry up in my mouth.

‘I want you to enjoy every moment when we make love,’ he says, his voice lowering further. My skin prickles and my mouth turns dry. ‘And I can’t think of anything I want to do more right now. But this…this feels wrong. Our first night together should be special. There should be roses and flowers and dim lights and silk sheets on a plush bed.’

I want to tell him I don’t care about all that, but then I stop myself. Why don’t I care? I should. I should expect the best from everything and not settle for something that’s nowhere near it. And if my husband wants to give me a memorable night together, then I should let him. As disappointed as my lady bits are at this decision, I nod tentatively.

‘I’m glad you understand. I feel like a fool for not thinking this through,’ he says ruefully. ‘I mean, Ammi was mad we were doing this because I think she’d already decorated my room for us.’

I want to tell him it’s not too late and we can still go back there and we’ll have the roses and the silk sheets and all that, but I suddenly understand why some people in office call him The Rock. Not because he looks like the wrestler, but because he’s impossible to budge once he’s made up his mind about something.

I’m not sure I like being married to someone so stubborn, but well, too late for that. And maybe he has a point, and I should be touched that he’s actually asking me to wait before we consummate our marriage and not rush into sex like most guys would want to. I mean, would many guys even think about my comfort and all that? They’d do it on a dusty floor if they got the chance.

Even though I’m disappointed and my body is confused by the mixed signals (why get on his knees to tell me that he’s not going to be ravishing my body tonight?), I nod.

‘Great,’ he gets up and I watch out to see if his knees pop like mine sometimes do but they don’t.

Now what?

He seems to read my confusion, so he points at a doorway on one side of a dark corridor.

‘That used to be my room when I lived here,’ he says. ‘It still has a bed and everything. Let me clear it up for you and see if we have clean sheets.’

This entire thing is leaving me rather bemused but I get up too. The door to the room is partially shut and the darkness beyond is a bit scary.

I’m not normally a scaredy cat but this house is super creepy.

‘Come, I’ll show you around,’ he says as he walks to the room where I’m supposed to sleep tonight. Any moment, a ghostly form is going to whoosh past us. I just know it.

But nothing of the sort happens and he pushes open the door and switches on the light. I follow him, feeling aware of how it’s just the two of us in his huge house and he’s being all noble and everything instead of…

I don’t know, really. Taking me against the door? The wall? This bed will also do just fine. There are a LOT of surfaces in this house. But he’s going to make me wait for silk sheets and roses.

Fine.

I’m miffed now, but I don’t say anything as I look around the room. It’s pleasant (relatively) and in much better condition than the living room outside. But it could all do with a huge paint job and dusting and god know what else.

‘There’s an ensuite bathroom here,’ he indicates with his hand and I’m relieved. At least I can pee in peace.

He walks up to the wardrobe and opens it. The creaky sound the door makes feels like chalk scraping on a blackboard. He seems to not notice it as he picks up a large sheet from the lower shelf, and he makes my bed for me.

‘I can do it,’ I tell him, suddenly feeling embarrassed that he’s doing this. I mean, not that I believe in traditional wifely roles or what women should do and what men should do, but it feels odd somehow.

‘I’ll do it, no problem,’ he says as he tucks in the corners of the sheet under the mattress, and when he finishes making the bed, he even fluffs up my pillows. Watching him do this is not at all unsexy. In fact, if anything it only makes him seem hotter to me.

‘Okay, you’re all set,’ he says, brushing his hands. ‘I’ll be outside if you need anything.’

You. I need you.

But before I can get the words out, he strides outside, leaving me alone in this room. The room is nice but I honestly couldn’t care what it’s like. I just didn’t want to be alone tonight.

But then I should have been careful about what I wished for.

It takes nearly an hour for me to finish washing up in the bathroom, and changing my clothes into one of the cotton dresses that thankfully Ammi has packed for me in the suitcase. I can spot a satiny negligee as well but I don’t even bother looking at it.

Irritated, I settle into bed and try to fall asleep, all the while wondering what he’s doing outside. The nightlight in this room is a strange shade of blue that throws odd shapes on the walls whenever I twist and turn. I can’t hear a single sound from outside, and my overactive imagination is telling me that he’s left me here alone as some virginal sacrifice, and I’ll wake up to faces peering down at me, daggers in their hands.

Frantically, I look around to see if there’s anything I can use as a weapon, not because I’ll potentially become a ritual sacrifice, but what if he hasn’t locked the door properly and there’s a burglar waiting to pounce on me? There’s nothing. I weigh my phone in my hand. I’ll just lob this at them. It did hit Jamal hard enough the other night.

Clutching my phone in my hand, I finally fall into an uneasy sleep when I feel fingers creeping up my sternum.

Did Jamal change his mind? Why didn’t he wake me up? What’s all this sleepy seduction he’s aiming for? I’d like to be fully awake when I’m seduced and…

Wait a second. When did Jamal’s fingers become so crispy?

Hope you enjoyed this excerpt! And do drop me an email if you’ve read the book or you’re wondering what happened next. Would love to hear from you!

Meanwhile, my regular email will go out to you guys next month with more details about upcoming books and everything else.

Love

Andaleeb