The heavy oak doors of the dining hall slammed shut behind them with a final, echoing thud. Raghuveer carried Sarita as if she weighed nothing, his massive arms locked under her soft thighs, her silk sari already half-unraveling around them. The midday heat outside was nothing compared to the furnace building between their bodies. He didn’t take her to any bedroom. He simply turned and pressed her back against the nearest cool sandstone wall of the corridor, right where the jasmine vines climbed and the air still carried the thick scent of the courtyard.

His mouth crashed onto hers.