Forbiddenly Bound To You
Chapter 42: Want A Kiss

Chapter 42: Want A Kiss

Zamian’s pupils narrowed as he noticed Mira’s subtle attempt to ignore his presence. Her body language was closed off, distant, and for someone like Zamian—used to being in control of every situation—it didn’t go unnoticed. His eyes darkened with concern. Mira, who usually met his gaze head-on, now seemed to be shrinking away, lost in her thoughts.

Before he could respond or even ask what was wrong, she turned and began to walk away, her steps hesitant but determined. The cool air brushed against her skin, a chilling contrast to the heat she felt radiating from her thoughts. Without a second’s hesitation, Zamian reached out, his large hand wrapping gently but firmly around her arm. The sensation of her cold skin made him frown slightly.

"Mira, are you okay?" he asked, his voice low but unmistakably laced with worry. He bent down to her level, his usually impassive face etched with concern. His voice, though calm, held a depth of emotion that Mira hadn’t heard before. She paused, but her eyes remained distant, as though she were seeing something far beyond their current moment, something only she could comprehend.

"Mira..." he called again, this time a bit softer, coaxing her back to reality.

"I can hear you..." she murmured after a beat, her voice flat and almost lifeless. Before Mira could say more, her breath caught in her throat as Zamian, without warning, wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. It wasn’t the rough, dominant gesture she would have expected from him, but a tender, almost hesitant embrace.

Zamian—cold, distant, and expressionless Zamian—was hugging her.

Her mind raced. His arms, strong and steady, encircled her, enveloping her completely in his warmth. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her back, the subtle tension in his muscles as if even he wasn’t sure what he was doing or why. His large frame seemed to swallow her small one, and for a brief moment, everything felt suspended, like they were the only two people in the world.

"I’m sorry," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a softness in his tone that Mira had never heard before. "Don’t take out your anger on yourself. Pour it on me instead."

Mira’s heart skipped a beat. Zamian had never spoken to her like this, with such vulnerability. His words were like an unexpected gust of wind, sweeping away her defenses. She couldn’t comprehend it—why was he acting this way? Why now? She remained frozen in his arms, her mind racing to catch up with what was happening. Was this really Zamian, or was she dreaming?

If their embrace were to be immortalized in a painting, it would have been one of those rare masterpieces that captured raw, unfiltered emotion—an image so poignant and intimate that it could stir the hearts of even the most indifferent observers. It was as though time itself had paused, and in that moment, they were no longer Mira and Zamian, bound by a contract and distant expectations, but two souls locked in an unscripted display of tenderness.

"It’s getting cold; let’s go inside," Zamian finally said, his deep voice breaking the fragile spell that had settled around them. He released her slowly, almost reluctantly, and Mira stood there for a moment, as if tethered by an invisible thread to the warmth he had just provided.

****

Inside dining room, Mira’s senses were assaulted by the sight and smell of a lavish spread of food. The table was covered with dishes that ranged from vibrant fruits to rich, savory meals and decadent desserts. It was almost overwhelming. Mira’s eyes widened in surprise—how could they possibly finish all of this in one sitting?

Zamian, ever composed, pulled out his phone and slid it across the table toward her. On the screen was an image of a chic, elegant ensemble—a long maxi skirt paired with a crisp, well-covered white top.

"This is the new dress code for our company," he said, watching her reaction closely. "What do you think?"

Mira blinked, processing the sudden shift in conversation. The drastic change in the dress code was the last thing she had expected him to show her. Her mind, still reeling from the earlier embrace, struggled to adjust. After a long pause, she finally managed a response. "Good," she replied, though her tone was colored with mild shock. She tried to mask it, but the surprise lingered in her voice. Had this decision been made only hours ago? She couldn’t recall.

Zamian’s eyes flickered with what might have been amusement as he took back his phone, placing it away as if the image had merely been an afterthought.

"We’ll be leaving tomorrow afternoon," he said, his tone casual but firm. The change in plans caught Mira’s attention. They had originally intended to leave in the morning, but now, it seemed he had reconsidered. It dawned on her that Zamian, as stoic as he was, had made this decision with her well-being in mind. He was giving her time to rest and prepare. Her body still felt tense, but the gesture didn’t go unnoticed.

Earlier, after Mira had taken a hot bath, Zamian instructed the staff to turn off all the air conditioners. He had noticed her shivering, with the mansion’s warmth restored, he felt a sense of quiet satisfaction when he saw her emerge from the bathroom, her skin no longer pale from the cold. She looked more like herself again, though her usual fiery spirit was tempered by the weight of the day’s events.

As they continued to eat, the silence between them was not uncomfortable but rather peaceful, the tension of earlier slowly melting away. They shared the meal in quiet companionship, each bite a reminder that they were no longer at odds, at least for now. When they were finished, both stood to leave, and it was the second time they both entered the elevator.

Zamian broke the silence this time. "The cookies you made... not bad."

Mira’s eyes widened in surprise, a slow realization dawning on her. So he had tried them after all. Her lips twitched upward in a smile before she quickly caught herself, feeling self-conscious. But the warmth of his compliment lingered, making her feel unexpectedly pleased.

Zamian, noticing her reaction, tilted his head slightly. "Do you want to cuddle tonight?" he asked, his voice gentle but with a teasing undertone that sent Mira’s heart racing.

Her cheeks flushed as she quickly turned away. The memory of their earlier embrace still lingered in her mind, and now, here he was, teasing her about something so intimate.

"No thanks," she muttered, trying to sound firm as she lay down on the bed, her face still pink with embarrassment.

"You don’t have to be shy," Zamian’s voice came from behind her, calm and reassuring.

Mira’s blush deepened as she raised her head to glare at him. But when she did, her breath caught in her throat. His face was only an inch away from hers, their lips so close that any small movement would close the gap entirely.

"Do you want a kiss?" Zamian asked, his voice low, almost taunting.

Mira’s heart thundered in her chest, the intensity of the moment taking her completely by surprise.

And for once, she didn’t have an answer.