Once Upon a Scandal (Il Cuore #2) by Shilpa Suraj

 

 

A moment of passion, a devastating scandal and a marriage between sworn enemies...

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 judgement, 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?

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Read an Excerpt from Once Upon a Scandal

She blinked at him. 

A sharp pang of amusement sliced through him at the sight of her stunned expression. It wasn’t often that Kanak was rendered speechless, and he meant to enjoy the moment for as long as it lasted. 

“Are you insane?” 

Five seconds. Well, it was five priceless seconds. He grinned. 

“What are you smiling about, you lunatic?” Kanak gaped at him. 

Her auburn hair glinted in the evening sunlight filtering through the window behind her. It made her look sophisticated, chic and poised. Strangely, he missed the purple and blue punk rocker look she usually sported. 

“Can we sit down?” he asked, gesturing to the lumpy sofa in the corner. It looked well worn, well loved, and rather well manhandled. 

Kanak didn’t move. She just continued to gawk at him like he’d grown a pair of horns. So, Aakash walked past her and sat down, hoping she’d follow. Something sharp and hard jabbed him in the butt. He sprang up again, pulling a metal back scratcher out of the depths of the brown monstrosity. 

“Oh,” Kanak mumbled. “That’s where that was.” 

“Of course,” Aakash replied, drily. “That’s where everyone stores their sharp objects. Under the cushions of their sofa.” 

Kanak just stared blankly at the back scratcher he handed her. And then…

“I need some wine,” she said, abruptly. 

“It’s only six in the evening.” 

Kanak stopped midstride and looked at him over her shoulder. “You just asked me to marry you.” 

Aakash considered that. “Bring two glasses.”

“I’m bringing the whole fucking bottle,” she informed him before marching over to the fridge. 

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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